Her eyes snapped up and she could barely breathe. “A l-lady? Why would you say that?” She faked a smile.
“Because I have spent a lot of time with ladies, and I ken how they act.”
“You? The grandmother of pirates? You’ve spent time around ladies?” She chuckled, thinking the woman was making this up.
“I most certainly have. Their names are Ladies Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, and they are the sisters of the Legendary Bastards of the Crown.”
The tankard slipped from her grip and hit the table, spilling ale. Everyone knew about the Legendary Bastards of the Crown. They once worked together posing as the Demon Thief, stealing from the king who was their own father. One of them was even a pirate if she remembered correctly. Nairnie surely got around!
Emmaline quickly righted the tankard, using her hand cloth to wipe up the liquid. Nairnie’s words shook her up so much that she didn’t know how to answer. Finally, she spoke. “Well, I’m not a lady,” she tried to convince the old woman, needing to keep her secret for now.
“Nay? Then ye’re a whore pretendin’ to be a holy woman,” said Nairnie, making Emmaline even more upset. Nairnie started to squint one eye and glare at her the way she’d looked at the serving wench.
“I most certainly am not a whore and I demand you stop calling me one!” She banged her hand down on the table, just like Nairnie had done earlier. Emmaline was getting very angry. She didn’t want anyone ever referring to her as a whore again. It was bad enough that all her late husband’s friends thought she was a loose woman because of that damned painting!
“Ah, so ye’re a noble after all, I see. I was right the first time,” said Nairnie, nodding her head. “Only a noblewoman would demand anythin’ from the grandmathair of a pirate.”
“Nay! You’re wrong.”
“I saw the way ye nibbled at yer food and dabbed yer mouth with a hand cloth. I also saw the lust in yer eyes when ye looked at my grandson, Mardon. No nun would ever act that way, lass.”
It was evident that Nairnie wasn’t going to stop until she got the answer she wanted. Her behavior was already starting to cause a scene. Several men glanced over in their direction. Emmaline didn’t want the attention. She needed to stay hidden in the shadows. This woman was going to ruin everything for her. She had to say something to satisfy her, or Nairnie was going to blow her cover.
“All right,” she finally said in a soft voice. “I’ll tell you, but you have to swear not to tell a soul.” Emmaline needed a way to get on to the pirates’ ship so mayhap this would work in her favor. She couldn’t take the chance of the painting resurfacing. Not when she was trying to clear her name. Most of the men who had seen the painting were all back in France. Hopefully, not many in England had taken a look at it yet. It was imperative she find it and bring it to King Edward immediately.
Before sending her to the convent, Emmaline’s father told her there was only one way to clear her name and marry again. He was friends with the king. If Emmaline could prove the painting was not going to resurface, he said he was sure King Edward would find a nobleman to marry her here in England. With the painting as proof, the king would then destroy it and, hopefully, restore her reputation. Now that she had escaped the convent that her stepmother fought to send her to, this was her only chance. Nairnie might just be the answer to her prayers after all. It was a chance she was going to have to take.
Nairnie studied her as she spoke. “I might keep yer secret. That is, if I feel it deserves keepin’.”
Releasing a deep breath, Emmaline told her the truth before she could talk herself out of doing it. “I am Lady Emmaline de la Croix from France.”
“Hah! I was right, ye are a noble,” Nairnie said a little too loudly, once again slamming her hand down on the table. Her face lit up with a smile.
“Shhh,” said Emmaline, looking around. “A year ago, I married a Frenchman and my husband has just recently . . . passed away. Now, before I tell you any more, answer me this. Are you really the grandmother of pirates?”
“I most certainly am. I’m grandmathair to Mardon and Aaron, and their brathair, Tristan, who just got married and thankfully gave up piracy. He stayed back in Ravenscar with his new wife.”
“I see.” She started devising a plan in her head. “So . . . do your grandsons steal lots of things?” she asked nonchalantly.
“They’re pirates. What do ye think?” Nairnie clucked her tongue. “For a noblewoman, ye certainly are naïve.”
“Well, what kinds of things do they steal? From other ships, I mean.” She was fishing for information on the painting. She had to know if it was still on the ship without just coming out and asking about it.
“They steal whatever they can. Why?”
“Have they ever stolen anything . . . I don’t know . . . big or odd? For a pirate to have, I mean.”
“I dinna ken that much about their doin’s since I havena been with them long. I suppose they do steal odd things. Some of them are despicable and I wish I were strong enough to lift and throw them overboard.”
“Really?” Emmaline’s eyebrows arched with intrigue. Now she was getting somewhere. She lifted her tankard, trying not to sound too excited. “Like what?”
“Well, that paintin’ in the captain’s quarters for one. It is disgustin’ and appallin’!”
“Painting?” Her heart sped up. This had to be the painting she was looking for. What other painting could have the old woman so worked up? “What kind of painting?” She fished for more information, trying not to rouse suspicion.
“Well, since ye’re really no’ a nun, I suppose I can tell ye.” She leaned over the table and said in a loud whisper, “It’s a paintin’ of a strumpet stark naked, spreadin’ her legs, pushin’ her diddies up into the air and with her mouth opened wide in a lustful moan.”
“What?” gasped Emmaline in shock, pushing back from Nairnie and hitting her head against the wall behind her. She had not expected to hear her say this, especially since it wasn’t true. “Nay! Her legs aren’t spread and she is not a strumpet moaning in pleasure, I assure you.” Emmaline almost spilled the rest of her ale since this upset her so much.
“How do ye ken?” Nairnie did that thing again with one squinted eye and cocked her head.
“Well, I don’t know. I – I mean, I just cannot believe any woman, strumpet or not, would pose like that for a painting. Mayhap you are mistaken.”
“Well, mayhap. I guess I’ll have to take another look to find out for sure.”
“Who – who is it? In the painting, I mean. The woman. Who is she?”
“I dinna ken.”
“Do the men know her?” She held her breath, waiting for the old woman’s answer.
“I’m no’ sure, but neither do they care. It is disgustin’ the way they sneak in there to look at the nude woman and then they grab themselves and –”
“Enough.” Emmaline’s hand shot up in the air and her head lowered. She suddenly felt as if she were going to retch. “I don’t need to hear anything more, thank you.” She felt sickened at the thought of every one of the pirates staring at her naked body day after day. Even worse, they were pleasuring themselves at her expense. This was even worse than she’d thought.