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will,” he assured her.
    “ No, no, no .” Antonia spun away but a
firm hand latched around her wrist, preventing her from trying to search
amongst the prisoners. He tugged and she lost her balance. Sprawled across his
chest, she tried to push away but he held her firm. “Take me to him!”
    But her words lost any impact as her knees began
to buckle. He tightened his grip around her. Darkness began to colour the edges
of her vision.
    “You’ll not be going anywhere today,” he said gruffly,
“aside from bed.”
    She felt herself being lifted and heard Henry
issuing orders to someone but his voice sounded distant. And this odd idea kept
fluttering through her mind, even though it made no sense to latch onto it. Was
he taking her to his bed?

Chapter
Three
    The
cold, limp woman in his arms made Henry’s heart throb a sickening beat. He’d
been trying to keep her awake and now she had fallen into a swoon. He only
hoped sickness had not taken hold. Not only had he lost a fine ship but he’d
seen no sign of the commander and now he might lose his daughter too.
    He urged the horse into a quick pace as they
reached the top of the hill that overlooked the sea. He peered back only
briefly to eye the spot where the ship had gone down. A few planks of wood
still lingered on the ocean surface. He shook his head. Antonia had been close
to drowning but he’d stopped her from going under. He’d be damned if she died
now.
    Which meant he wouldn’t tell
her about her father until he was sure she was well and able to take the news. If he
had been forced to jump with a broken leg, he thought it unlikely the man had
survived and there had been no sign of Will on the jetty.
    He followed the dirt road past the farm and
toward the village. Even from here, his manor house overshadowed the small
cottages that made up the bulk of the village. Built by his grandfather, the
stone building was modest by all accounts but large enough to ensure no one
doubted that the man who owned it had complete control of his lands.
    His lands. It had
been two years since his father’s death and yet he could not get used to being
the owner of all of this.
    By the time he had brought the horse across the
bridge that spanned the small moat, several servants awaited his arrival. No
doubt news of the capture of the Rosario had already reached them but
whether they knew of its loss, he knew not. He motioned to the stable hand who
aided him with Antonia. Thankfully the woman weighed less than a sack of
feathers so the young lad had no troubles handling her, though uncertainty was
written on his face. Henry bit back a laugh. It was probably the first time the
whelp had ever held a woman.
    Henry dismounted and took her from the boy.
“Take the horse down to the dock. They’ll have need of it,” he ordered. “The
ship sank,” he explained to the waiting servants. “This is Antonia. She will be
under house arrest until negotiations are made.” He motioned to the
housekeeper, a widow by the name of Kate who followed him into the front room.
“Have someone fetch the physician. She was in the water for some time. Then we
need clean clothes and a warm bath.”
    “What about you, sir?”
    “I’ll change in but a moment.” He pressed past
the dining table and carried Antonia into the hallway. “Is there clean bedding in
the rear bedroom?”
    “Aye, sir.” He
started up the stairs with Kate on his heels. “Will you be
wanting some hot food?”
    He considered this. He’d only been aboard the
ship for a matter of weeks but Antonia would have been on the Rosario for
much longer. Was she normally so slender or was that the product of rationing
and illness?
    “Aye, something warm for when
she awakes.” If she awoke. He
prayed she did. When Henry glanced down at those inky lashes
against skin that had been much duskier before her spill into the water, the
thought of her passing away in his house made bile rise in his throat. He could not let that happen.
    The