“Of course not.”
“Good.” Aaron started to smile until he heard the rest of it.
“Nairnie will take your hammock since the galley burned down and she has no place to sleep. Sister Emmaline will take my hammock, and I’ll sleep on your pallet on the floor.”
“Nay! What about me?”
“The cabin is really too small to fit four of us,” said Mardon. “I guess you’ll have to sleep in the lookout basket or on the deck with the crew.”
“How can you do this to me? I was already kicked out of the cabin by Tristan and now you’re going to do it, too?”
“It’s only until we get to Canterbury and drop off the nun. Just for a few days.”
“Then you stay on the deck and I’ll use my pallet in the cabin instead.”
“Nay. I’m captain, so I get the cabin.”
“I’m quartermaster now, not to mention bosun. The way I see it, I should have two spots secure in the cabin, but you’re not even giving me one.”
“Stop your complaining, Aaron. Besides, you like sleeping in the lookout.”
“Fine, I’ll do it. But as soon as the wench is gone, I get Tristan’s old hammock, as well as my pallet back, savvy?”
“Savvy. But you’re the one who is going to have to kick Nairnie out of the cabin, because I certainly will not be the one to do it.”
“It doesn’t matter. Grandmother likes me best. Mayhap she’ll kick you out of the cabin instead.”
“The day that happens is the day I resign from being a pirate.”
“You’d better not touch that nun or Nairnie will have your head.”
“Don’t worry. I told you, I don’t touch nuns.” Mardon pushed past Aaron up the gangplank, seeing Emmaline holding on to the ship’s rail as the wind whipped at her clothes, causing her big breasts to jut out even more. His mind raced. Lustful thoughts filled his head. For some reason, he pictured her turned up hard nipples as well as that blond patch of hair between her legs. It was as if he could see right through her clothes, and it was driving him mad. What the hell was happening to him?
“Prepare to set sail,” he called out, rushing past the women and taking the stairs to the sterncastle two at a time. The bottom stair squeaked horribly, and he hoped to hell that Peg Leg Pate got the supplies he needed to fix the damned thing. After all, Tristan had been on his ass about it for weeks. If Mardon had to do it himself, he would.
“Cap’n, who’s the nun and why is she here?” asked Stitch, walking over to the helm, looking down to the deck to survey the women.
“Her name is Sister Emmaline.”
“God’s eyes, ye’re not bringin’ another wench on board, are ye, Cap’n?” Coop hurried over to join them. “Don’t forget all the trouble Tristan’s wench caused.”
“Aye, we had a string of bad luck with her aboard,” Stitch reminded him. “Coop is right, Cap’n. A wench on board is only goin’ to be bad luck.”
“She will not,” snapped Mardon, taking the helm, looking down to the main deck as his crew gathered around Nairnie and the nun. “Tell the crew the treasure is hidden in Canterbury Cathedral and the nun is here to help us get it.”
“Really? We’re goin’ to find the treasure?” asked Coop. This thought excited the broad-shouldered, round-shaped man. Coop’s body sometimes reminded Mardon of the barrels that the man fixed and constructed. “I’ll tell the crew at once, Cap’n.” He hurried down the stairs.
“A nun is goin’ to steal for us?” said Stitch, giving Mardon a look that said it was absurd. “Come now. Why is she really here?” Older and wiser than the rest of the crew, Stitch wasn’t easily fooled. Only this time, Mardon wasn’t trying to fool him, even if he didn’t believe it.
“I really did bring her to help us get inside the cathedral,” said Mardon.
“And she agreed to it?” He raised a brow.
“Aye. Nairnie talked her into it.”
“So it was the old woman’s idea to bring the nun.”
“Nay, it was mine. Well, both of ours, I guess. I can’t stop thinking Sister Emmaline is familiar although I can’t figure out why. Take the helm, Stitch, and lay a course for Canterbury. I’ve got to get down there and make sure the crew knows to keep their hands off the wench. Plus, I need to figure out why I get this nagging feeling that I know her.”
By the time Mardon got down to the deck, the crewmembers had surrounded the nun, backing her up against the rail. Nairnie was over near the burned galley and rushed over with her ladle in one hand and frying pan in the other. “Get away from her,” she yelled, swinging at the pirates, clearing a path to Emmaline. “No one touches her or ye’ll feel these smashin’ into yer skulls.” She banged the ladle into the cast iron pan, making a loud clanging noise.
Mardon stopped at the foot of the stairs and chuckled when he saw the men quickly move away from the nun. Nairnie held them at bay with her threats and he admired her tenacity. Too bad she had a bad attitude about pirates because she made a better pirate than some of his crew. He chuckled, and called out to his men. “We’ve got a guest on board and you’ll all show some respect. We’ll be dropping her off in Canterbury in a few days.”
“Is she really goin’ to help us find the treasure, Cap’n?” asked Goldtooth. He crossed his burly arms over his chest. “Because we don’t like havin’ a bloody nun on board.”
“Aye, she’s going to help us. And Nairnie’s words are mine, so no one touches the wench. Savvy?”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“We hear ye,” the men answered one by one.
“Good. Weigh anchor. Let’s set sail, and get a move on. We have to get to the treasure before Nereus, and he already has the clue.” That put the fire under them. The men hurried about the ship, climbing the lines and setting the sails, getting ready to head out to collect the king’s treasure that would make them all rich men. Mardon’s eyes once again fastened to Emmaline. He was drawn to her and he found it hard to look away.
“You’d better mind your own orders,” came Aaron’s voice from the air, hanging on to the ratlines, watching him from above. Mardon felt as if his brother were reading his thoughts and he didn’t like that.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your damned hammock, Aaron. Eventually,” he growled. Mardon turned and headed back up to the helm, still thinking about the nun. Damn, this was going to be a long journey for the next few days, and he felt as if he were going to go mad before it was over.
“Where do I go to get washed up?” Emmaline asked Nairnie as the ship set sail. A gust of wind filled the sails and the ship glided easily across the water and out to sea.
“Ye’re on a pirate ship now, lass,” said Nairnie, picking through the rubble from the fire, finding some bowls and pans. She shook off the soot and started stacking the items in her arms. “If ye ken what’s guid for ye, ye willna take off a stitch of clothing around these men. Ever! They’re no’ to be trusted.”
“B-but I’m a nun,” she told the old woman. “Surely, they wouldn’t touch me.”
“Are ye really that daft or just tryin’ to get yerself rogered at the rail?” spat Nairnie, pushing a stack of cooking items into Emmaline’s hands.
“Rogered at the rail? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Figure it out.” Nairnie hooked the end of the ladle on to her belt. “Just keep swingin’ those hips of yers the way ye do when ye walk and I’m sure ye’ll find out what I mean very quickly.”
“Is there something wrong with the way I walk?”
“No’ if ye’re tryin’ to get a man’s attention. Bring those things over here,” she told Emmaline, brushing off the top of a barrel. “I’ve got to start cookin’ and I need somewhere to do it.”
“What happened here?” Emmaline asked Nairnie, eyeing up the burned remains of what looked like a small room at the bow of the ship.
“We had a couple of traitors aboard the ship that tried to blame the fire on me. Those fools set my galley on fire and almost took the whole s
hip with it.”
“Are they still here?” she asked curiously, not knowing what to expect.
“Nay. Noll and Wybert jumped ship and now they work for my grandsons’ nemesis, the pirate name Nereus.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m no’. After bein’ a prisoner of Nereus, I realize those two fools deserve everythin’ they get from Nereus. He’ll probably end up killin’ them just for fun.”
“You were taken prisoner?” She wanted to know more but Nairnie was reluctant to tell her.
“Enough talk. I have work to do. Stay close to me and ye’ll be fine. Dinna stray or ye’ll regret it.”
“Nairnie, I’m sure none of the crew even gave me a second glance,” said Emmaline, laying the items down atop the barrel.
“Really.” Nairnie’s one brow arched and she nodded. “Turn around and see for yerself if ye dinna believe me.”
Emmaline turned around to find each and every one of the pirates watching her from their positions on the deck. Some were up in the lines, others swabbed the deck, and still more men were positioned up on the forecastle, looking down. Like Nairnie said, they all worked but had an eye on her at the same time. That made her feel very ill at ease.
“My grandson seems to have taken the most interest in ye. He hasna taken his eyes off of ye since ye stepped foot on this ship.”
“You mean Mardon?” she asked, her eyes flashing up to the sterncastle where Mardon was at the helm talking with another of his crew. Sure enough, he was watching her. He nodded his head in acknowledgment when he saw her look at him.
Emmaline jerked and spun around on her heel. She lowered her face, hoping none of these men had gotten a good look at her. Not that they’d remember her face when she was sure they’d been staring at other parts of her body instead, where the painting was concerned. A knot formed in her stomach. “Mayhap I shouldn’t be here.”
“Nay, ye shouldna. This is the last place ye should be. But it’s too late to change that. Ye are a part of this treasure hunt now whether ye like it or no’.”
“What’s in it for me?” she asked Nairnie.
Nairnie’s head turned and she looked at Emmaline over her shoulder. Her lips pursed and her eyes glowered at Emmaline as she made a face. “Don’t let my grandsons hear ye talkin’ like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only a fool would believe a nun was thinkin’ about herself, askin’ to make a deal that would benefit her directly.”
“Well, they won’t hear me. This is just between us, Nairnie.” She flashed the old woman a smile. “I’m just curious. Why should I risk my life to help steal a treasure for stinking pirates?”
Nairnie chuckled. “Aye, they dinna bathe as much as they should, but they’re no’ all stinkin’, I assure ye. Tell me, what is it ye want?” Nairnie put down a few items and looked directly at her. The woman’s eyes were mysterious with speckles that made her look wise like a sage. It was almost as if she were gazing into Emmaline’s mind, and this made her feel very unsettled. She broke the connection by looking at the deck, pretending to find interest among the ashes.
“Me? Why do you think I want anything at all? For myself, I mean.” Emmaline walked over and placed the items she held on a nearby wooden box.
“Ye didna seem to fight very hard about comin’ aboard a pirate ship. So that leaves me to believe it is a risk ye’re willin’ to take to get whatever it is ye want. Am I right?”
“All I want is a good reputation. That is something I’m never going to get if I help you steal from a church!”
“Is there somethin’ wrong with the reputation ye have now? Is this part of that deep, dark secret ye’re hidin’?”
Emmaline busied herself picking up more bowls and spoons from the ashes. She didn’t answer.
“Uh huh. That’s what I thought. Well, I suppose ye’ll tell me when ye’re guid and ready so I willna push ye again. Ramble,” she called out, and a young man about five and ten years of age ran over to her.
“What is it Nairnie?” he asked. “Oh, hello, Sister, my name is Ramble,” he said, holding out his hand for a shake. “I’m the captain’s cabin boy.”
“I’m Emmaline. I mean, Sister Emmaline,” she told him, leery to touch him since he looked rugged and filthy like the rest of the men. Still, she reached out and gave his hand a quick shake.
“I guess we’ll be havin’ two women aboard again,” said Ramble. “Not that I mind, of course, but I’m just sayin’ it isn’t customary, especially being on a pirate ship and all.”
Emmaline could see why they called the boy Ramble. He couldn’t seem to stop talking.
“Ramble, get some of the other men to help ye, and clean up this mess,” ordered Nairnie. “I canna cook in filth and ashes.”
“Aaron already told us to do the exact thing,” said Ramble. “The men are headed over here now. Ye know, Aaron’s quartermaster now that Tristan left and Mardon took over as captain. I wonder if I’m goin’ to get a new position as well.”
Mardon walked up behind him. “You’ll be lucky to keep your old position if you don’t stop talking and get to work.”
“Cap’n!” Ramble whirled around in surprise. “I didn’t know ye were standin’ there.”
“Obviously not,” said Mardon. “Get to work helping Coop and the others bring over the barrels of food from the Fish Head Inn.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” said Ramble, turning and running to do as told.
“Thank ye,” said Nairnie. “I need to start preparin’ somethin’ for a meal. What would ye like, Mardon?”
“Nothing that requires cooking,” he answered. “It’s much too windy today for a fire. I don’t want you setting aflame the rest of the ship before we’ve even cleaned up this mess.”
“Aye, of course no’,” said Nairnie. “I’ll need a plank set up here to work on. Hopefully, Peg Leg Pate will hurry up and get my galley rebuilt.”
“I’ll take care of all of that,” said Mardon, still staring at Emmaline.
“Mardon, stop starin’ at the nun,” snapped Nairnie. “It’s no’ an appropriate thing to do, especially for a pirate.”
Emmaline dared to peek up at Mardon, keeping her face turned downward. Those bright blue eyes seemed to glow in the sun.
“It does make me feel uncomfortable,” admitted Emmaline, turning to sort through some bowls.
“Havena ye ever seen a nun before?” Nairnie asked Mardon.
“Aye, but not such a pretty one,” answered Mardon. “Sister Emmaline reminds me of someone. How long have you been a nun?” he asked her. “And what is your surname?”
Emmaline didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t sure who these pirates knew, or if they even knew the name of her late husband when they’d boarded and raided his ship before Mardon killed him. Still, she needed to give him some sort of answer.
“I’ve been a nun for much too long. And once we enter the convent, we stop using our surnames because they no longer matter.”
“I see,” said Mardon.
“Grandson, move aside, here come the barrels of food,” said Nairnie.
Mardon took Emmaline’s arm and stepped to the side as Coop and Ramble rolled barrels over to Nairnie.
“I’m sure you’d like to rest,” said Mardon. “You and Nairnie will be sleeping in my cabin.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Emmaline, happy to know she’d have a private place to go and wouldn’t be around the men. Besides, she was sure the painting was in the cabin. It had to be, if he still had it. “I appreciate you giving up your private space for me.”
“Who said I was giving up anything?” he asked. “I’ll be sharing the cabin with the two of you.”
“I canna work with ye two standin’ in the way,” complained Nairnie. “Now either leave or help me, but move.”
“Let me show you my private quarters.” Mardon took her arm and escorted her across the deck. Emmaline suddenly felt frantic. The man was taking her to his private qua
rters?
“I think I should stay and help Nairnie.” She looked over her shoulder but Mardon just walked faster, almost dragging her along with him.
“Nonsense. Nairnie doesn’t need help. Here we are.” Mardon opened the door and held out his arm, waiting for her to enter. Her heart beat faster and her mouth felt dry. She licked her lips, just trying to swallow, noticing his eyes fastening to her mouth.
“Yes. Here we are.” She took two steps into the cabin and stopped dead in her tracks. There on the wall with the sun from a small portal lighting it up brightly was the naked painting of her hanging on the wall!
Chapter 5
“Welcome to my cabin,” said Mardon, entering the room after the nun and closing the door behind him.
“Oh!” gasped Emmaline, holding her hand to her mouth. Her eyes were fastened to the painting. “I can’t stay in here with . . . with that!”
“It’s just a painting of a naked tart,” he said with a chuckle.
“A tart?” she asked, sounding haughty. She turned her head away from the painting.
“Aye, you know. A willing woman, a strumpet, a whore.”
“I know what a tart is,” she said through gritted teeth, seeming angry if he wasn’t mistaken. Mayhap he shouldn’t have explained it to her. “It needs to go.”
“What? Nay. I like it too much to ever get rid of it.” He walked over and ran his hand down the painting, past the girl’s naked breasts, and slowly down to the thatch of hair between her legs. It made him randy. “I had the chance to bed this beauty, but I decided not to. Now, I wish I had.”
“You decided?” she asked from behind him.
“Aye,” he answered, figuring he didn’t need to explain that the woman had offered herself to him and then tried to kill him. His hand went to the scar on his arm from where the wench stabbed him.
“You can’t expect a nun to stay in here with that. You need to take it down.”
“I can’t. I like it too much. So do my men.” His eyes scanned the painting again from head to toe. “Damn, she is a beauty. I’ve had a lot of women but none of them who ever came close to looking like this one. She is damned near perfect, I tell you.”
Mardon (Pirate Lords Series Book 2) Page 6
