“I’m not ready yet, Aaron,” said Mardon, his striking blue eyes drilling into her. She pulled the blanket up to hide her nudity from the men.
“Oh, I see,” said Aaron with a slight chuckle. “Just bring her along.”
“Nay, Brother, I won’t do that. You know as well as I that a woman on board is bad luck. Now, come here and help me.”
“You want him to help you?” Emmaline’s heart about beat out of her chest. “B-but you just said you don’t take women by force.”
“I don’t.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her wedding ring off, holding it up to inspect it.
“Give that back to me,” she snarled.
“Nay, I don’t think so. This looks like it’s worth a lot of money.” He slipped the ring into his pocket, then reached over her to the wall, taking the painting next. “I might not take women by force, however, I do take everything else by force. After all, I’m a pirate. I want this naked painting of you to remind me what I almost had before you reneged on your offer.”
The pirate named Aaron rushed into the room to help his brother. For some reason, Emmaline felt insulted when he let her go so easily, opting for the damned painting instead. Feeling weak, her grip slackened and she dropped the blanket, exposing herself to the two men.
Aaron whistled, and almost dropped the painting, but Mardon scowled.
“Stop it, little brother,” snapped Mardon. “Now, let’s get this painting back to the Falcon before Tristan starts bitching that we’re taking too long.”
With their backs to the door, Emmaline saw Jean Philippe sneak into the cabin with his sword raised. He rushed right toward Mardon, meaning to kill him.
“Nay!” she cried. “Mardon – behind you.”
The pirate named Mardon unsheathed his sword with one hand, turning halfway around and thrusting his blade through Jean Philippe’s side in one move, never dropping his end of the painting.
Her husband’s body crumpled as he fell to the floor and dropped his blade. Emmaline saw the blood and screamed.
“Sorry about that,” said Mardon. “I hope he didn’t mean anything to you.” He wiped the blood from his blade on her husband’s back and stuck the sword back into his scabbard. When he did, she noticed the blood dripping down his forearm from where she’d stabbed him as well.
“God’s eyes, didn’t you two hear my command to get back on the ship?” Another pirate stood at the door. His long hair lifted in the breeze around him. She guessed he was the captain. “Oh,” he said, his eyes settling on her naked body. She suddenly realized she was still naked, and fell to her knees, holding the blanket in front of her.
“Let’s go,” spat Mardon, carrying his half of the large, heavy painting as they headed out the door. He turned and looked over his shoulder as they left. “I never did get your name,” he told her.
“What does it matter?” she asked him.
“I’d like to know what to call the painting. It’s a beautiful image and looks just like you. I don’t know why you sound so upset.”
“If that was a painting of your mother, would you be upset about it?”
“My mother is dead.”
“Then what if I were your sister? What would you do about it then?”
“Sister?” He chuckled. “If I had a sister who was stupid enough to pose for something like this in the first place, then I’d say she deserved whatever she got.”
“And what if she had no choice?”
“There is always a choice, my lady. It’s called the word no.”
“If only it were that easy.”
“There are two ships approachin’,” called out one of the pirates. “We have to leave now!”
“Well, good luck . . . Sister,” said Mardon with a grin, making fun of their conversation, since he didn’t know her name.
“Sister? Sister?” came a voice, rousing her from her sleep. Emmaline’s eyes popped open. At first, she thought she was still dreaming. There, right in front of her, stood the handsome pirate and his blue eyes were looking directly at her!
Chapter 3
“Sister? Are you all right?” Mardon looked down at the nun sitting half-hidden in the shadows in the Fish Head Inn. He and his crew had arrived just moments ago and it was very crowded inside the tavern today.
“Oui,” she said, clearing her throat. “I mean, yes. I am fine.” The woman seemed flustered. Mardon supposed it was because she was in a tavern, drinking. Not to mention, this was probably the first time a pirate had ever talked to her. This innocent dove didn’t belong here and he wondered what in the hell she was doing here. He was curious to know, but was almost afraid to scare her by asking.
“Is this seat taken?” He motioned with his eyes to the chair across from her.
Her eyes darted upward but quickly looked away. “Nay,” she answered softly, grabbing her tankard and taking a fast, deep swig of ale. Mardon chuckled under his breath. He’d been known to cause women to do many unexpected things in his presence, and he’d prided himself on that fact through the years. However, causing a nun to drink was a first for him. He wasn’t sure what to think about it.
“Good,” he said, looking up and motioning with his finger to his grandmother across the room. “Nairnie, here is a seat for you.”
“Nairnie?” asked the nun, seeming surprised and confused. It seemed as if she had thought he’d meant to sit with her. She almost looked a little disappointed that he hadn’t.
Mardon chuckled again. “Aye, I hope you don’t mind if Nairnie – my grandmother, sits with you, Sister.”
“Y-your grandmother?” The corner of her lips turned up as if she were amused. “Of course not.”
“What is your name?” he asked her.
Once again, her eyes darted over to him and then back to her drink so fast that he was surprised she didn’t become dizzy. “Emmaline,” she finally answered under her breath, her voice sounding like the beautiful song of a bird. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and made an expression as if she’d spilled some kind of deep, dark secret by revealing to him who she was.
“Well, thank you, Sister Emmaline,” said Mardon, pulling out the chair for his grandmother, helping her to get seated.
“You’re pulling out the chair for her?” asked Emmaline, looking astonished.
“Aye. How else is she supposed to sit down?” he answered, thinking it an odd question.
“B-but aren’t you a . . . a pirate?” He almost expected her to bless herself next after saying pirate as if it were blasphemy.
“I might be a pirate, but I’m also a man,” he told her. “That is, a man who knows how to treat a woman, no matter what her age.”
“Well, isna that sweet of ye, honey,” said Nairnie, reaching up and kissing him on the cheek before she sat down. The nun’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened.
“Nairnie, stop it,” mumbled Mardon with a roll of his eyes, hoping to hell no one saw what she’d just done. Helping an old woman to sit was to his liking, but being kissed by her in public wasn’t going to fare well with his reputation at all. He quickly scanned the room. Thankfully, no one was paying any attention to him and didn’t seem to even notice. His crew was either busy drinking and eating, or finding pleasure with the whores. Aaron was across the room, talking to the proprietor. No one but the nun saw Nairnie kiss him, and she didn’t matter at all. He was certain she’d never repeat such a thing since he didn’t figure nuns would be talking about meeting pirates.