The Spanish Prize [antikvár]

Chapter One The wind had changed. Maria woke and wrinkled her nose and fresh herbs on the bare floors of the cabin by her duenna Consuelo Henriques. She sat up and reached for her pomander. The clove-stuffed orange failed to keep at bay the stench of sweat, human ordure, tar and bilge-water. It was the siesta hour and the heat almost unbearable. Before nightfall ttie galleass would be anchored m Cadiz harbour, the captain, Don Est^)an, had assured her. Maria's moudi curved in a wry smile as she turned to wh^ C(»isuelo sprawled on a cane day-bed, snoring contentedly. Nottung disturbed Consuelo's natural ability to sleep, not ev^ the chaos of their hurried departure from ibt estancia near Malaga and tiie unaccustomed hardships of the voyage. Evoydnng had been done to shield Maria from discomfort wheieva-possible. Don Esteban had umnediately placed his cahm at h^ disposal. It was die least he could do, he said, for the niece of Don Felipe Santiago y Talavera, especially since