as he dismounted and came to lift her down, but found that she was trembling with nerves.
‘Remember you are a lady and my betrothed.’
Maribel’s head went up at the reminder. A tall man with greying hair and a lined face moved towards them. He stared at her for a moment and then inclined his head.
‘You are Marguerite’s daughter. I can see her in you. Indeed, you are very like your mother, my child.’
‘Thank you. Forgive me, I do not know you.’
‘How should you?’ He held out his hand to her. ‘I am your Uncle Henry. My sister and I were close when we were young, but my father made a match for her with Don Miguel Sabatini and I lost contact with her. I wrote to her often, but she replied only a few times before she died—and your father wrote only twice to tell me of your birth and her death. I was grieved that she died so young. I would have come to visit, but duty kept me here. My father died and I was forced to repair our fortunes before thinking of my own wishes—but I thought of you often and I am so pleased that you have chosen to come to us until you marry.’ His steady gaze went to Justin’s face. ‘Captain Devere. I believe I once met your father, sir. It was years ago, but he spoke then of his son as being a fine young man.’
‘I thank you for your welcome, Sir Henry. Perhaps we may talk again later? I am hoping that you will take my lady into your home while I perform some necessary duties. I shall return for her as soon as I have visited the court.’
‘You wish to pay your respects to the new Queen.’ Sir Henry nodded. If he wondered why Justin did not wish to take his betrothed with him, he did not ask. ‘Please leave your horses to my grooms, sir. My wife is most anxious to greet Maribel. We have sons, but no daughters, and she hath always wished for one.’ His gaze returned to Maribel. ‘Come and meet Lady Fildene—she is anxious to welcome you to her home.’
Maribel’s nerves abated a little as she moved with him to meet the rather small, plump lady waiting to greet her. Lady Fildene smiled and embraced her warmly, clasping her to her ample bosom.
‘How beautiful you are, my dearest child. We are so glad to have you with us if only for a time. I know my husband wrote to your father asking that you might come to us for a while, but he received no answer to his letters.’
‘My father was not always kind, ma’am,’ Maribel said. ‘I think his marriage to my mother was not as happy as it might have been—for either of them.’
‘Henry told me that she did not wish to wed him,’ the lady said, placing a hand on Maribel’s arm and drawing her into the entrance hall of what was clearly a grand house. The ceilings were high; the walls were of stone, but covered with rich tapestries that gave the rooms a warmth and colour not always seen in older homes. ‘Your maid will be shown to your apartments, my dear. Everything is being prepared, though we had little notice of your coming.’
‘I think it was not possible to let you know sooner,’ Maribel told her. She was very conscious of the fact that it had been some time since she had left her home in Spain, and she was most certainly not the same girl. Her skin was no longer the pale olive it had been when she protected it by staying out of the midday sun. On the island she had become careless, allowing her skin to be kissed by the sun to a pale gold, a little freckling appearing across her nose. She was wearing gloves, but she knew her hands had not yet become as soft and smooth as they had once been. ‘I am sorry to be a trouble to you.’
‘You could never be a trouble to us, dearest girl. We are delighted to have you with us, even if only for a short time.’
‘I am happy to be here,’ Maribel replied, her fears falling away as she saw the genuine welcome in the lady’s eyes. ‘I shall enjoy getting to know my mother’s family.’
‘My sons Beavis and William are married and living in London,’ Lady Fildene said. ‘However, my son Michael is expected home any day now. He has been to the north on business for his father. We import wines, you know. Mostly from France these days, though it was because of the Spanish wines we once imported that my father-in-law entrusted his daughter to your father. I am sorry to learn that the marriage was not a good one.’
‘I think my mother may have been unhappy, but I do not remember her. My stepmother was kind to me and I was happy enough until she died soon after my husband.’
‘You were married? We did not know that. How sad to lose a husband at your age.’
‘I was sad—but then I met Justin,’ Maribel replied, her mouth curving. ‘I think I shall be very content as his wife.’
‘His family are respected and wealthy,’ her aunt said. ‘Everyone knows of Lord Robert Melford and the important family he founded. I believe they are all well connected and popular at court, though we do not often visit London ourselves. My husband was never one to seek royal favour, though we have recently been honoured by a royal contract for our fine wines.’
Maribel was not sure whether her aunt sounded regretful or a little jealous of those who had the royal favour. She sensibly kept her silence. Since she had only just learned Justin’s true name it would not do to pretend to knowledge about his family that she did not have.
Glancing back, she saw him talking with her uncle. He seemed at ease and gave no sign of being anything other than he claimed to be. Clearly he had put the memory of his time at sea behind him, and she must too. She would have to be careful when answering her aunt’s questions—she did not wish to reveal that she had been a pirate’s captive.
‘I shall return for you as soon as I can,’ Justin told Maribel as he took his leave two days later. ‘At least I know that you are safe here with your family. Your uncle is truly pleased to have you here, as he has made plain to me—and I believe his wife to be a good woman.’
‘Lady Fildene is both kind and generous,’ Maribel admitted. ‘I like her very well. She is a good chatelaine and she loves her family. Her son Michael is expected home soon and I think he must be her favourite. Even so, I would rather come with you if I could, Justin, but I know I may not for I should only hamper you.’
‘I am sorry I must leave you, but I know you are safe here. I shall travel faster alone, my love—but I shall think of you often. As soon as I am free to do so, I shall return and take you to my home, where we shall be wed.’
‘I pray that you will return to me safely. You know that I love you.’
‘As I love you. Take care of yourself until I come to claim you.’
Maribel went to his arms, clinging to him until he disengaged, pushing her back. ‘Be careful, my love. It is not seemly to show such passion. We may be observed and I would not have your aunt lose her good opinion of you.’
Tears crowded in her throat. It was on the tip of her tongue to beg him to take her with him, but she knew that he would refuse. He had decided that she must remain here in safety with her aunt and uncle and she could not make him change his mind. Parting from him would tear her in two, but she must bear it as best she could and pray for his safe return.
Reluctantly she drew away, ‘I should not like to shock her. I am very careful how I answer her for she would be shocked if she knew where I had recently been.’
‘Be patient for a while. We shall soon be together.’
Justin touched her face lightly and then turned away. Higgins was waiting nearby with his horse.
‘Farewell, Justin.’
‘Farewell, my dearest one. I shall return.’
Maribel watched as he rode out of the courtyard. A breeze had sprung up suddenly, bringing storm clouds from the sea. The dark sky looked ominous and she shivered as she turned and went into the house. The time would seem long while Justin was gone. She hardly knew how to occupy her time, because the pretty sewing she had once delighted in for hour after hour was not enough to fill her days. She disliked the damp coolness of the English weather, finding the grey skies depressing, and thought wistfully of the time