“Nay, I won’t,” she told him, eyeing the other man in the room sitting behind a pallet with a paintbrush in his hand.
“Ma chérie, do not be shy.” Her husband chuckled and walked over, placing his hands over hers. “All you need to do is get naked and lie back on the bed.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you making me do this?”
“It’s something I wish to have to always remind me of you, ma chérie. I’ll be the only one of my friends who has a naked painting of his wife.”
“Nay! I can’t do this. It’s wrong and horrible and will ruin my reputation of being a lady.”
“I’ll tell you a little secret.” He leaned over and whispered into her ear, “I actually do it with all of my mistresses, so I want you to do it as well.”
“Your – mistresses? You do what?” This was the first she’d heard of this.
“Oui, I have many that are to my liking.” He clapped his hands and the door opened. In walked five women, all curtseying to him and bowing their heads. “Girls, undress my wife and show her what to do.”
“Leave me alone!” cried Emmaline, but it did no good to fight. Before she knew it, she was naked and the girls were pushing her down on the bed into a prone position.
“Now, try to look sultry,” commanded her husband. “I want every man who sees this to desire you and every one of them to long to be me.”
“You’ve already managed to do that by inviting half the castle into our wedding chamber. I had to fight off men all night long.”
“Hush! I want this painting of you to be most desirable.”
The painter eyed her naked body, putting his brush to the paint. “Qui, my lord, this one has a body that every man will lust for.”
“Do you want her?” asked Emmaline’s husband, obsessed with this oddity that belittled her and made her feel no better than a whore.
“I do, my lord. I envy you and know that men will pay dearly to see this painting of Lady de la Croix as soon as I am done.”
“Pay?” She tried to sit up, but with a nod from her husband, the girls pushed her back down.
“Don’t move, Emmaline, or I will take a switch to that lovely ass and make you cry out,” warned Jean Philippe.
“What does he mean men will pay to see me naked?”
“Not you, the painting,” explained her husband.
“It’s the same thing!”
Her husband chuckled again, as if this whole idea amused him “I’m going to hang this painting in my cabin on my ship. Then I’ll fill my ship with men and charge them each time they lust for you.”
“For my painting, you mean.”
“Nay. You’ll be coming with us, Emmaline,” he explained. “They’ll see the painting and then they’ll see you. Their desire will be grand. I’ll have every man in France eating out of my hand just thinking they have a chance to bed you, knowing exactly what they’ll miss out on, since they’ll have already seen you naked. They will pay me whatever I ask just for a glance, and hopefully a chance with you.”
“I’m not a whore. I won’t do it. I won’t go to bed with these men.”
“Of course not.” He chuckled lowly. “But they won’t know that until it’s too late. They’ll be too embarrassed to ask for their money back once I threaten to expose what they wanted to do. That would ruin their reputations.”
“But what about mine? What about my reputation?”
“You’re naught but a wench. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m a lady! Of course it does. What will people think?”
“I don’t care what they think. They’ll never say anything to my face. So, like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
Emmaline sprang out of bed and ran for the door. The sound of a cracking whip split the air and she stopped with her hand on the door latch.
“Turn around and get back in bed and don’t move again until the painter is finished,” Jean Philippe warned her.
She looked over her shoulder and her eyes opened wide. There stood her husband, the cur, with not a switch in his hand but a whip!
“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ve made an alliance with my father back in England. If I tell him you touched me in this manner, he’ll send his army to kill you.”
“You’re never going to see him again, and neither will I ever let you out of my sight. I don’t fear your idle threats. Now turn around.”
When she turned back to the door and tried to leave, she felt the sting of the whip against her buttocks. She jumped and cried out in pain. His maniacal guffaws almost brought her to tears. No man should ever treat his wife this way. He truly did mean to hurt her and had no qualms about it. With no other choice, she made her way back to the bed and lay down to let her husband’s evil plan pan out. She swore to herself she would find a way to destroy this painting afterwards, and then she would kill him for what he’d forced her to do. Somehow, she’d find a way to erase all this, because she refused to live in shame.
It might have been a good plan if the painting hadn’t been stolen by pirates. She had almost died that day on her husband’s ship along with him. That was the day Emmaline made a deal with the devil, offering her body in exchange for her life.
The pirate who stole her painting was a man she would never forget. He had started to take what she’d offered, but in doing so, he’d never forced himself on her. Nay, he was gentle as he kissed her and undressed her, and even seemed as if he cared. His hands caressed her naked body instead of pulling, pinching and grabbing, the way Jean Philippe did to her. The pirate’s kisses actually made her weak in the knees. For some odd reason, she felt safer with him than she’d ever felt with her bastard of a husband.
Slowly, gently, the dark-haired pirate guided her to the bed and laid her down upon it. As frightened as she was, the way he treated her made her feel as if he cared. Then his hand went to the waistband of his trews.
She had half a mind to actually let him bed her but, instead, she’d pulled out her hidden dagger from under the pillow and stabbed the man on his arm.
“God’s eyes! What did you do that for?” he spat, pulling back and looking at her as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Blood dripped down his arm.
“I’m not a whore!” she cried.
“Then why did you offer yourself to me?”
“Because you’re a bloody pirate and I know that’s what pirates want and do. I only did it so you wouldn’t kill me.” Tears dripped down her cheeks. He reached out and with one swipe, knocked the dagger from her grip. It slid across the floor of the ship.
“I never intended to hurt you. Your first mistake was to assume I would.”
“I’ll fight you until I die, I swear I will,” she warned him, holding her arms out in front of her.
“I’ll have you know I’ve never taken a woman by force, no matter what you think.”
“You’re a pirate! I don’t believe a word you say.”
“Mardon, come on,” shouted another man from the door to the ship’s cabin, who looked younger than Mardon and had long, blond hair. “Tristan said another ship is coming to help this one. Take what you want and get back on the Falcon fast. We’re no match for all of them.”