Amanda McCabe - In the Tudor Court Collection

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8 ravishing Tudor romances that will transport you to another world of rakes, outlaws and pirates. Outlaw in the Tudor CourtRansom BrideOnce a galley slave, now a Venetian merchant prince, Lorenzo Santorini has sworn revenge on his captor. Until English beauty Kathryn Rowlands appeals for help in finding a friend lost to pirates and Lorenzo struggles to maintain his cool detachment. For Kathryn stirs deep feelings he had long forgotten and now he must take drastic steps to protect her from his sworn enemy…The Pirate’s Willing CaptiveCaptive on the high seas by pirate Captain Justin Sylvester, with nowhere to run, Maribel Sanchez had never felt more at liberty. For if she returned to rigid Tudor Society she’d become an old man’s unwilling bride. If she remained with Justin, he’d made it abundantly clear, she would become his more than willing mistress.Libertine in the Tudor CourtOne Night in ParadiseThough Queen Elizabeth I’s court at Richmond was a hotbed of illicit liaisons, beautiful Adorna Pickering remained unscathed. Yet the one man she couldn’t resist had a reputation blacker than sin. And though Adorna didn’t want to be just another easy conquest, she’d willingly forsake everything she held dear for one night in Sir Nicholas Rayne’s arms…A Most Unseemly SummerCapable and determined Lady Felice has had to learn how to take care of herself. So she is shocked when the surveyor of her family’s new home, Sir Leon Gascelin, forces her to accept him as her temporary guardian. Is it to stop tongues wagging because they reside under the same roof? Or has she deliberately been sent to this dangerously attractive gentleman to be well and truly tamed?Notorious in the Tudor CourtA Sinful AllianceDaughter of a courtesan and a lord, Marguerite was forced to fend for herself in the dangerous world of French nobility—as the king's most feared spy. Sent on a mission to the court of King Henry VIII, Marguerite found her only friend was her old enemy, the sensually tempting Nicolai Ostrovsky. And their sinful alliance seemed set to turn her from old loyalties to new desires!A Notorious Woman Beautiful perfumer, Julietta Bassano hides her secrets from the light of day, selling rose water and essence of violet rather than taking her rightful place in Venetian society. Until the seductive Marc Velasquez enters her world. But in the city of masks, plots spiral around Marc and Julietta—schemes that will endanger their lives and their growing love…Maiden in the Tudor CourtHis Runaway MaidenEscaping her cruel stepmother, Rosamund Appleby heads in disguise for London…until she is halted by Baron Alex Nilsson! He seeks to protect her as they journey together. But when Alex, who trusts no woman, finds himself conveniently married to beautiful Rosamund, he doesn’t know which is more treacherous: the enemies plotting his downfall or the seductive lure of a woman in his bed…Pirate’s Daughter, Rebel WifeWhen Captain Henry Mariner rescues a lone and vulnerable maiden from the sea, he has good reason to feel guilty about placing her in such a precarious predicament. But despite Bridget McDonald’s reserve toward him, he knows there is no other option. The only way to protect her life – and her virtue – is to marry her!

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‘Yet Suleiman Bakhar calls him friend.’

‘Suleiman is a man of enlightenment, as you know. He has only one wife, Eleanor, though his religion allows him to have several, and he adores her. They travel together and though she adopts Muslim dress when in his country, she wears English garb in ours. Suleiman says that if anyone can find Dickon, it is Santorini.’

Sir John nodded. ‘And that is the true reason you want Kathryn to accompany you, isn’t it? You believe that Dickon will need both you and her if he is found.’

‘What will he be like if he has survived?’ Lord Mountfitchet said, his face grey with grief. The abduction of his son had haunted him these many years, giving him no peace. ‘He is bound to have suffered terribly. He will need nursing and care if we are to teach him how to live again.’

‘Yes, I fear you are right,’ Sir John agreed. ‘Perhaps Kathryn is the only one who might help him. They were so close as children.’

‘I have not told her my thoughts on this matter,’ Charles Mountfitchet said. ‘It would make her feel that she ought to accompany us—but I would have her come only if she wishes it.’

‘Yes, it must be as she wishes,’ Sir John said. ‘I would not have it otherwise. Yet if she should want to marry…’

‘I shall write to you at once,’ his friend promised. ‘But Mary will have a care to her. We shall not allow some ruthless fortune hunter to snare her.’

‘Her fortune is adequate, but not huge,’ Sir John said. ‘I have my son to think of and, as you said, Catholics are not given the chance to rise these days. Philip will not be given a post at court as I was when Mary was Queen.’

‘That is why you do well to join me in my venture,’ Lord Mountfitchet said. ‘We may trade where we will, for the world is bigger than this country of ours.’

‘Yes, I believe you are right,’ Sir John said, ‘though for myself I would be loath to leave it as you intend.’

‘Perhaps I might have thought as you if…’ Lord Mountfitchet sighed and shook his head. ‘It does no good to repine. If Santorini can give me no hope, then I may accept that I shall never see my son again.’

Kathryn looked at herself in her small hand mirror. It had come all the way from Venice and had once belonged to her mother. She touched the smooth silver handle with her fingertips. The merchants of Venice were known for the quality of their wares, and it was from that city that the beautiful glass posset set, which her mother had treasured, had come.

It would be a great adventure to go with Lady Mary and Lord Mountfitchet. She had never expected to leave the shores of her homeland, for her father was not a great traveller. Yet she had read the histories in his library, those rare and valuable books and bound manuscripts that she was privileged to share, and her mind was open to new things. And of course Venice was renowned as a centre of publishing, particularly of the poets and of great histories. She thought that she would like to see new countries, new places—and there was always the possibility that they might discover something concerning Dickon’s whereabouts.

Her hair was hanging loose about her shoulders, a dark, shining red mass of waves that gleamed with fire when it caught the candlelight. She got up and went over to the window, gazing out into the darkness. She could see very little for there were no stars to light the sky that night. Her father had spoken of her finding someone she might wish to marry—but how could she ever do that when her heart belonged to Dickon? She had given him her promise as a girl and he had taken his knife and cut her initial into the back of his wrist. She had cried out in alarm, for it had bled a lot, and had given him a lace kerchief to bind it.

‘Does it hurt very much?’ she had asked and he had laughed, his eyes bold and daring.

‘It is nothing, for I know that this blood binds you to me for ever.’

She had kissed the wound then, tasting his blood, and had known that she would always love him. She would resist any attempts to marry her to a man she did not love. She would behave modestly when travelling and listen to Lady Mary’s advice, but she would not let them marry her to a man she did not respect or feel some affection for. Perhaps one day she would feel inside her that Dickon was dead. If that happened, she might consider marriage. If not…

Her thoughts seemed to come up against a blank wall, for she did not know what she would do if Dickon never returned to her. There was no alternative to marriage for a woman of her class, unless she wished to retire to a convent. Women married or became nuns, unless their male relatives had a use for them. Perhaps Philip would accept her as a dependent in his household if she grew old and past the age of being a wife.

It was a sad prospect, but what else was there for her? Laying down her mirror, Kathryn went to her bed, which was a heavy box base with four posts and a carved tester overhead. A handsome thing, it was piled high with soft mattresses filled with goose feathers, for the slats were wooden and hard. Slipping beneath the luxury of silken quilts, she wondered what life was like on board ship.

Yet she would put up with any discomfort if, at the end of the journey, she could find the man she loved.

The momentum was gathering, Lorenzo thought as he left the meeting to which he had been summoned. There had been talk of forming an alliance to fight a campaign against the Turks for a long time, but now, at last, it looked as though it might actually happen later that year. Pope Pius V had formed the Holy League with Spain and Venice, and it was hoped that others would bring their ships to help fight the menace that had haunted the Mediterranean seas and the Messina Strait for so long. Many had thought the talking would simply go on and on, and negotiations would probably continue for a while. However, after these latest threats against Cyprus and Rome itself, it seemed that His Holiness was determined to strike against the enemy that had for so long threatened the nations of Christendom.

Leaving the palace, Lorenzo was thoughtful as he walked, his mind dwelling not on the conference that he had attended, but on a letter that had reached him shortly before he left Venice. It was from an Englishman with whom he had done business in the past, telling him that he was coming to Venice and asking if he could help to trace a youth who had been abducted from the shores of his homeland over ten years previously.

Lorenzo frowned, for it was a thankless task. He knew as well as any man how unlikely it was that the youth had survived.

He would, of course, do what he could to help Lord Mountfitchet, for although they had never met he had heard good things of the gentleman. His father, Antonio Santorini, had visited England some years previously and had spoken of meeting Lord Mountfitchet, saying that he was both honest and decent. Therefore, Lorenzo would help him, but to trace a man who had been taken by Corsairs so long ago…

Lorenzo’s instincts remained alert even while his mind wrestled with his problems, and he was aware that he was being followed. So when the attack was made, he was ready for it, drawing his sword as he turned to meet the three ruffians who rushed upon him out of the darkness.

‘Come, my friends,’ he invited with a cold smile that only served to intensify the ice of his eyes. ‘Would you have my purse? Come, take it if you can…’

One of the three, bolder than the others, took him at his word. They clashed swords, contesting the fight fiercely, but the rogue was no match for a master swordsman and called for help from his comrades. The other two came at Lorenzo warily, for they had seen that he was no easy mark. Outnumbered three to one, he held his own for some minutes, slashing to left and right as each one attacked in turn, whirling out of reach, retreating, then advancing as he fought with the skill and ferocity his years as master of a war galley had brought him. Even so, the odds were against him and it might have gone ill with him in the end had not a newcomer joined in the fray, bringing his own skill and courage to Lorenzo’s assistance.

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