Mardon (Pirate Lords Series Book 2)

by Elizabeth Rose

  “It never even entered my mind. But now that you’ve mentioned it, why did you?”

  He saw her body actions change suddenly. She wrapped her arms around her and her eyes became glassy. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “You might be surprised. Try me.”

  “The bastard I was forced to marry decided to expose me to his friends . . . for money.”

  “What?” This thought made Mardon angry. “What the hell?”

  “That’s right. He forced me to pose for that painting and then he charged his friends to look at it – at me, hoping they all lusted after me, which they did.”

  “God’s eyes,” spat Mardon, thinking of all the times he and his men did exactly the same thing, even if there was no money involved. “I’m sorry you had to live through that. It can’t have been easy.”

  “You’re just a pirate. Why should you even care?” A tear dripped down her cheek as she looked out at the sea. Mardon saw the pain in her eyes and his heart went out to her. He reached out with one hand and brushed away her tear with his thumb.

  “I might just be a pirate, but I also know what it feels like to be used, or to have people thinking you are something you’re not.”

  “Like worthless?” she asked, making him wonder why she chose that word.

  “I suppose so. Emmaline, if you were my wife, I’d never do such a horrible thing. I’d treat you like a princess.”

  “Your wife?” Her eyes sought out his.

  “I mean . . . if I had a wife. Any wife,” he corrected himself, thinking of his brother, Tristan, and how vulnerable he became around a woman. “I mean . . . I know how to treat a woman. I didn’t mean I wanted a wife. Because I don’t.”

  Well, that went well, he thought sarcastically, knowing that if she didn’t despise him before, she certainly would now. He was normally smooth-talking and at ease around women. Why did he feel nervous and tongue-tied when he was around Emmaline? He cleared his throat and continued.

  “Are there guards around the tomb of St. Timothy?” he asked.

  “Timothy?” She looked over to him, sniffed and smiled. “You mean Thomas. It’s St. Thomas Becket,” she told him.

  “Whatever. Are there guards?”

  “You really don’t know anything about this man, do you? Or about the cathedral either.”

  “I’ve lived most of my life on the sea,” he answered. “So, nay, I’ve never been there, but you have. And that’s why I’m asking you.”

  “I saw how slowly you climbed the lines,” she said to him. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She covered his hand with hers.

  “Ramble,” he groaned, knowing his cabin boy was at it again. “Why don’t you go and help Nairnie?” he said, clearing his throat, not wanting to think about his past. He pulled his hand away from her.

  “I thought you wanted me to tell you about Canterbury Cathedral.”

  “We won’t be there until sometime tomorrow. There will be time to talk later.”

  “All right,” she said, almost sounding disappointed that he was sending her away. “And I was never going to poison you,” she mumbled as she headed down the stairs to the galley. Aaron passed her on the stairs, turning and looking at her over his shoulder as he approached Mardon.

  “Was she – was she crying?” he asked, pointing to Lady Emmaline.

  “If so, it wasn’t my fault,” Mardon answered.

  “But she looked upset. Did something happen between you two?” He stretched his neck, watching Emmaline making her way to Nairnie.

  “Nothing happened, nothing ever happened, and nothing ever will!” Mardon snapped at his brother, not meaning to, but feeling cornered where the wench was concerned.

  “God’s eyes, Mardon, calm down,” said Aaron. “You’re acting like you two are married and having a lover’s quarrel.”

  “I’m never getting married, so get that idea out of your head right now, little brother.”

  “Little brother?” Aaron repeated. “We’re back to that again, are we?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “Mardon, I know you too well to believe that you don’t have any feelings for the girl. Now, tell me, what the hell is going on?”

  “I wish I knew,” said Mardon, biting the inside of his cheek. He did have feelings for Emmaline, and that is the last thing he wanted to have right now. Damn it, what was happening here? She was just a wench, he told himself, and nothing more. He thought of the tears in her eyes and pain he saw on her face when she told him about her bastard of a husband. His heart ached for her. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and protect her. But he couldn’t. If he did, he would like it too much. And if he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up just like his brother, Tristan.

  Chapter 8

  Nightfall seemed to come quickly. Emmaline had helped Nairnie all day preparing food and getting the galley back in order. Most of Emmaline’s time was spent trying to get out of the pirates’ way as Peg Leg Pate and his crew rebuilt the entire galley in one day. It was just a simple, small room near the front of the ship used for storing and cooking meals. Still, it provided shelter and privacy – something that was scarce on this ship.

  Emmaline was used to living in a castle, having space. She also used to have a large chamber all to herself. Being around so many pirates made her nervous. They were just too close and always seemed to be looking at her. She could only imagine each and every one of them staring at the naked painting . . . looking at her! The thought made her shiver and she wrapped her arms around her in a feeble attempt of hiding away.

  Mardon and his brothers had originally proclaimed the galley as Nairnie’s private quarters, letting her sleep there on a raised pallet at night. It was so once again. Emmaline almost envied the old woman, wanting to use the galley for herself. To hide away.

  The wood frame and walls went up quickly. This time, Pate had even added a door, whereas she was told before there was only a hanging curtain.

  “Now, that’s better. Much better,” said Nairnie, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding. She inspected the work of the pirates, giving them her approval. “It’s goin’ to feel good to get back in my own bed.” Her words only made Emmaline long for her own bed as well – back home, not in France. Her memories of sharing a bed with Jean Philippe were only nightmares that she hoped to someday be able to put behind her.

  “It’s nice,” said Emmaline, realizing that if Nairnie slept in the galley, that meant she would be sharing the cabin with Mardon. Alone. After the kisses they’d shared and the way she felt in his arms, she knew it was a bad idea. The last thing she wanted was to fall for a pirate. All that mattered to her was to be a lady again. She wanted to marry an English knight or baron and live the life she was meant to live. The faster she got off this cursed ship the better. “Nairnie, let me sleep in the galley with you,” she said, collecting up the dirty wooden dishes in her arms and following Nairnie into the new galley.

  “Dinna be silly. There isna room in here for both of us. Just put the rest of those dishes in that bucket of water,” she told Emmaline. “I swear, I am goin’ to have to train these men to clean up after themselves. I wonder what they did before I arrived?” She rolled up her sleeves and started to wash the dishes. “Ramble said they just wiped off the plates since they’re wood, but I dinna think that is a guid idea. Yuck,” she said, holding up a plate that had a sauce smeared over it. “I guess someone wasna happy with my new sea-based sauce. And ye’d think pirates would eat bugs or rats and lick the plates clean.”

  “I’m afraid that was my plate, Nairnie. I’m sorry, but I’m not used to this type of food.”

  “Well, ye’d better get used to it or ye’ll go hungry, lass. One thing is for sure – ye’ll no’ find yer fancy foods, clothes or ways of a noble while ye’re a passenger on this ship.”

  “I know. I understand. I’m doing all I can to accept things for now. But please, Nairnie,” begged Emmaline. “Let me stay with
you. I don’t want to sleep in the cabin alone with Mardon.”

  “Why no’?” asked Nairnie, looking at her work rather than at Emmaline. “As long as my grandson thinks ye’re a nun, ye have nothin’ to worry about. He’ll never touch ye.”

  “He already has. And we’ve kissed.”

  “What?” Nairnie dropped a plate into the water, splashing the front of her apron. “I swear, I am goin’ to slap Mardon so hard that he’ll end up in the sea. What the hell is he thinkin’ makin’ passes at a nun?” She took off her apron and grabbed her ladle and headed for the door.

  “No, wait.” Emmaline took a hold of Nairnie’s hand. “You don’t understand. He knows I’m not really a nun. I told him the truth.”

  “Ye told him?” Nairnie slowly turned around. “Why in heaven’s name would ye do such a doitit thing? Are ye addled? Dinna ye understand how much danger ye’ve put yerself in by makin’ this choice?”

  “Sit down, Nairnie. I need to talk to you. Please.”

  “All right.” Nairnie let out a deep sigh and sat on a stool. “If someone’s goin’ to set ye straight, it might as well be me since no one else on this ship has a lick of sense, I swear.” Emmaline pulled up another stool and sat across from her. “Spill it.”

  “I haven’t been totally honest with you,” she said. “You see, I knew Mardon before I ever stepped foot on the Falcon.”

  “Ye kent him?” Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “How? My grandsons are pirates and ye – ye’re a lady.”

  “Your grandsons boarded and raided my late husband’s ship. Actually, Mardon killed my husband who was a Frenchman.”

  “Och, nay! I’m so sorry, lass. My grandsons have turned to the darkness, and I am tryin’ my best to bring them back to the light.”

  “It’s all right,” Emmaline told her. “Mardon did it in self-defense. Besides, I despised my husband, so I’m glad he is dead.”

  “Glad he’s dead? I think ye are turnin’ to the dark side, too. What kind of nonsense are ye spoutin’? Ye were married to the man. Ye shouldna have hated him.”

  “Nairnie, you know as well as anyone that marriages amongst the nobles are only done for alliances. Often with the enemy. Marriages have nothing to do with love.”

  “Well, they should! Like the love between my grandson, Tristan, and his wife, Gavina.”

  “I don’t know them, but if they truly love each other then they are an exception. Most married couples never know love. My husband had many mistresses and he was – he was sick in the head.”

  “Now, now, that isna a nice thing to say.”

  “It’s true! He made me do things. Things I am ashamed of.” She couldn’t even look at Nairnie when she said it.

  “Come now, I’m sure it wasna that bad.”

  Emmaline raised her face, pulling off her wimple. Her hair fell down past her shoulders. “Tell me, have you ever seen hair this color before?”

  “It’s beautiful,” said Nairnie, reaching out to touch it. “It is so light it almost looks white or silver. It reminds me of that strumpet’s hair in the paintin’ in Mardon’s cabin.”

  “And now you know,” said Emmaline, waiting for the old woman’s reaction.

  “What do ye mean?” Suddenly, Nairnie realized what she was saying. Her jaw dropped and she shook her head. “Nay. Ye canna mean that the girl in the paintin’ is ye?”

  “I’m sorry to say it is. And I swear that I didn’t want to pose for it. My husband threatened to hurt me if I didn’t do it. He had a whip and . . . he used it on me.”

  “Nay!” spat Nairnie, getting to her feet. “Ye poor thing.” She collected Emmaline into her arms in a big hug.

  “Are you two going to join us or stay in here all –” Mardon stuck his head in the little window at the side of the galley that was used for air. He stopped in midsentence when he saw them hugging. “What is going on here?”

  “Mardon!” Emmaline pushed out of Nairnie’s embrace and wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand.

  “I’m coming in,” he told them, pushing his way into the small room and closing the door behind him. A candle on the wooden plank table was the only light. “Is something the matter?”

  “Emmaline was tellin’ me that –”

  “Nay!” Emmaline stopped the old woman in midsentence. “Everything is just fine.”

  Mardon didn’t believe for a minute that things were fine. Something was upsetting Emmaline and he wanted to know what it was. Still, he didn’t think it was the right time to ask her.

  “Emmaline told me how ye raided her husband’s ship and killed him,” said Nairnie.

  “Really?” Mardon’s eyes went from his grandmother over to Emmaline. He wondered how much of the story she knew. “And what else did she tell you about that day?”

  “Don’t worry, Mardon,” said Emmaline. Her emerald green eyes glistened in the firelight, making her look like a magical fae with her silvery-blond tresses spread out around her shoulders. “I told her you only did it in self-defense.” She didn’t mention the kiss between them, or that she’d offered her body to him and then tried to kill him. He figured Nairnie didn’t know or she’d be scolding him about it. It was better left unsaid.

  “Nairnie, why didn’t you tell me that you knew Emmaline wasn’t a nun?”

  “Why do ye think?” she asked. “I kent if she was a nun, ye wouldna touch her. Hrmph,” she spat, going back to washing dishes. “If there’s a woman anywhere near or far, ye’d be the one to find and bed her.”

  “I didn’t bed her,” he said in his defense. “Not that I didn’t have more than an opportunity to do so.”

  “Enough,” said Emmaline, pushing her way in between them. “Mardon, if you must know what we were talking about, I asked Nairnie if I could sleep in here with her instead of in your cabin.”

  “Why?” he asked. “I’m curious to hear this answer.” He wondered if she didn’t trust him, or mayhap if she didn’t trust herself.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Emmaline looked over at Nairnie. “So, can I stay here with you, Nairnie? I promise not to be a burden or get in your way at all. It’ll only be for the night. Once we get to Canterbury, I’ll be gone.”

  “Nay!” Mardon answered for her. “If you stay here, the men will become suspicious. Besides, I want you near me so I can protect you.”

  “Nairnie? Please, say something!” Emmaline looked terrified.

  “I’m sorry, Emmaline, but Mardon is right. Besides, he’s captain and I’ve learned no’ to even try to go against his word.”

  Mardon wondered what his grandmother was up to. True, he was captain, just like his brother before him. But when the hell had she ever listened to them and not gone against their word? Nay, she wanted Emmaline to stay with him and this worried him. Was she trying to play matchmaker so he’d end up strapped with a wife and give up his profession like Tristan? Well, hell if he’d ever let that happen.

  “Now that Nairnie’s here, Aaron will be staying with us since it’s his cabin, too,” he told Emmaline.

  “Oh. He will?” God, why did she sound and look so disappointed? If the girl really didn’t want to be alone with him, then she should sound elated. This wench was complicated and he couldn’t figure her out.

  “Will you ladies join me on the deck? Ramble is going to try to play the lute and we’re all going to break open some bottles of whisky.”

  “Nay, I don’t think so,” said Emmaline.

  “Aye, of course we will,” said Nairnie. “Ye two go on out and I’ll be there as soon as I finish up here.”

  “I’ll help you, Nairnie.” Emmaline sounded too anxious.

  “Nay. Ye go on with my grandson and get some fresh air on the deck. It’s a beautiful night. Plus, it’ll be the last night ye’re with us. Go on, shoo. Go have some fun.”

  “Fun? But I’m dressed like a nun,” complained Emmaline.

  “Well, I give you permission to have fun, no matter what you’re wearing,” said Mardon, holding out his arm
. “Can I escort you, my lady?”

  Emmaline wanted more than anything to forget all her worries and just relax. Although she didn’t think it would be any fun at all to drink with pirates while she was dressed like a nun. She was about to object again, but when Mardon took her hand and put it on his arm and looked deeply into her eyes, she found that she couldn’t turn him away.

  “Well, mayhap just for a little while. It does seem to be a nice night and I have always liked looking at the stars,” she said shyly.

  “If you want to see stars, I’ll show you stars as well as a moon that you will never forget.”

  “I’d like that,” she said with a smile, holding on to his arm. They were about ready to walk out the door when Nairnie cleared her throat and stopped them.

  “I think ye’re forgettin’ somethin’ . . . Sister,” said Nairnie, handing her the wimple. “And if ye’re goin’ to do anythin’ that is ‘non-nunly’ then be sure to do it behind closed doors.”

  “Nairnie, that’s enough,” said Mardon, but Emmaline could hear the playfulness of his voice. He wasn’t mad about it. Neither was she. And now she could only wonder how this night would end. After all, a nun and a pirate drinking together wasn’t going to be believed by the crew for long.

  It didn’t take long for Emmaline to relax, feeling safe at Mardon’ side. They sat on barrels with all the crew gathered around on the main deck. Ramble plucked out sour notes on the lute, and the men teased him relentlessly.

  “Ye make that thing sound like a whore moanin’,” said Coop, raising a bottle of whisky to his mouth.

  “Nay, a whore moanin’ sounds enticin’,” said Goldtooth. “That just sounds downright bad.”

  “I miss Gavina with her flute,” said Nairnie, who walked out of the galley to join them. Her ladle swung at her side like the swords that were fastened to the pirates’ belts.

  “Doesn’t the nun know how to play music?” asked another of the crew.

  “Me? Oh, no, I’m sorry, I don’t,” Emmaline answered.

  “She has a name, and you’ll all use it,” Mardon spoke up. “Her name is Emmaline.” He glanced over at her, drinking her in, making Emmaline feel special.