“Sister Emmaline,” said Nairnie, reminding them of her guise.
“Give me that lute,” said Aaron, grabbing the instrument from Ramble.
“Little brother, don’t even try. We all know you can’t play it and we’re in enough pain and agony as it is.” Mardon laughed and lifted the bottle of whisky to his mouth.
“Don’t be so sure, big brother,” he said, subtly reminding Mardon that he didn’t like being called that. He put his hand to the strings and beautiful music floated on the breeze. Everyone stopped laughing. Mardon almost choked on his whisky he was so surprised.
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” asked Mardon.
“If you spent as much time sleeping in the lookout basket as I have, you’d be able to do something creative as well,” Aaron answered. “How about a lively tune? Who wants to dance?”
The pirates all mumbled as Aaron played a cheery tune.
“Nairnie, ye like to dance,” said Ramble.
“Me? Oh, nay, please dinna make me dance again. The last time I did it, my joints hurt for days. I think Mardon and Sister Emmaline should dance.”
“Oh, no,” said Emmaline. “I’m afraid nuns don’t dance.”
“Well, they should,” said Nairnie.
“I agree,” added Mardon. He put down the bottle and pulled Emmaline to her feet. Everyone stared.
“Nay, Mardon, please. Don’t make me do this. Everyone is watching.”
“All right then, I’ll dance with my grandmother,” said Mardon. He walked over and pulled Nairnie to him. The ladle swung at her side.
“Mardon, didna ye hear me? I dinna want to – oh!” Nairnie grabbed on to Mardon as he swung her around, her feet lifting off the ground. Everyone cheered and laughed and the whisky flowed freely.
Emmaline giggled because it looked like so much fun. Then, when Mardon passed Nairnie off to Stitch and reached out for her, she didn’t stop him. He pulled her into his arms and danced around the deck while the men clapped and shouted. Aaron jumped up on the bulkhead, strumming the instrument louder and louder.
“For a nun, you’re not bad,” teased Mardon.
“You’re not so bad yourself. For a pirate,” she added.
Everything was going fine until her wimple fell off and her hair blew around her in the breeze.
“Look at that hair!” cried out one of the men.
“She looks a lot like the whore in the paintin’ in the cabin,” said someone else.
“Let’s go take another look.”
The pirates all jumped up and headed toward Mardon’s cabin. Aaron stopped playing. Nairnie hurried over to Mardon.
“Do somethin’,” spat Nairnie. “If ye dinna stop them, they’re goin’ to find out.”
“Mardon, please help me.” Emmaline looked up to him, feeling frightened. If the crew thought she was just a whore, they’d be lining up to roger her at the rail.
“I’m offering a gold piece to anyone who thinks they can outdrink Goldtooth,” Mardon called out.
“What?” Goldtooth was the first to turn around. “No one can outdrink me.”
“Then I guess you’ll win the gold piece,” said Mardon.
“Like hell he will.” Nairnie grabbed two metal goblets from inside the galley and headed over to the main mast. “Give me that.” She grabbed a bottle of whisky from one of the men, put the goblets down and filled them up. “Goldtooth, get yer arse over here. And dinna think for one minute I’m goin’ to let ye win.”
“Grandmother, you’re going to have a drinking contest with Goldtooth?” Aaron put down the lute and hurried over. “This I’ve got to see.”
“I’ll bet on Goldtooth,” called out one of the men.
“Naw, the old lady will win. She’s tough as nails,” said another.
The crew forgot all about the painting and crowded around to watch the drinking competition instead. Mardon’s plan had thankfully worked.
“Mardon, you’ve got to stop Nairnie from doing this. It is insanity,” said Emmaline.
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine.” Mardon took Emmaline by the hand and headed up to the sterncastle.
“But I’m worried about her.” Emmaline looked over her shoulder.
“I’m worried, too. That she’ll win the gold piece and will want to compete every night from now on.” He chuckled as they made their way to the back of the ship, away from prying eyes. “Come, I want to show you something.”
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“You said you liked to look at stars.” He pulled her into his arms and turned her around. “Look up there.” He pointed and spoke right next to her ear. “Are there enough stars for you, my lady?”
“Oh, Mardon!” she exclaimed, holding on to his arms and looking up into the sky. Thousands of bright stars twinkled up in the black velvet sky. The gentle, warm breeze blew through her loose hair and everything seemed so magical. “It’s wonderful. Isn’t it the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen?”
“The second most beautiful sight,” he whispered, nibbling at her ear.
“Second?” she asked with a giggle. “What’s the first?” She turned her head to see him staring down at her, looking at her mouth. Bathed in moonlight, he looked like a man from her dreams.
“I’m looking at the first.” He dipped down and brushed his lips gently over hers. When he broke the connection, she decided she wanted more. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she reached up and kissed him back. His hands slid around her back and then down to her waist as the kiss deepened. A vibrant feeling engulfed her, making her feel so alive in Mardon’s arms.
“You know we shouldn’t be doing this on the deck. Especially since it’ll look like you’re kissing a nun. What will your men think?”
“I know somewhere we can go out of the way of prying eyes.” He took her hand and led her back to the cabin, and she didn’t stop him. As they slipped away in the nighttime shadows, she saw Nairnie downing a goblet of whisky, and banging it upside down atop a barrel. She almost fell over and Aaron reached out and righted her on her feet.
“Beat that, Goldfoot,” she spat.
“Goldtooth,” he growled, downing the whisky and banging his cup down as well. “Bring more whisky,” he shouted, causing the crew to go wild.
“Do you think you should stay? It might get out of hand,” she told Mardon.
“Nay. My grandmother can hold her own. Plus, she’s got her ladle.”
“Mardon. Really?” She stopped him.
“She’s fine,” said Mardon. “And if there is trouble it is the quartermaster’s job to maintain control. This will be a good chance for Aaron to embrace his new position.”
“If you’re sure.”
“More than sure,” he said, opening the door to the cabin.
Emmaline hesitated before stepping inside.
“If you’d rather we go back to the drinking competition, I’ll understand,” he told her.
She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “Nay. This is my last night on your ship, and I will do what I want.” She stepped inside and he followed.
“And what is it you want, my lady?” He lit a candle inside the cabin and closed the door.
Emmaline’s heart beat rapidly, and her mind went in many directions at once. She was tired of pretending. What she wanted was to experience love with a man who excited her and made her feel special. She wanted to spend the night with someone who cared about what she wanted, and who only took what was offered when it came to spending intimate time together.
“I know it sounds crazy, because you’re a pirate and I haven’t known you long but – nay,” she said, shaking her head, feeling afraid to even admit it aloud.
“Say it,” he told her, reaching out and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me what it is that will make you happy and I will do everything in my power to make it happen.”
“You’ve already done that,” she said, flashing a quick smile. “You’ve made me
feel special, and you didn’t make me do anything that I didn’t want to do.”
“Surely, there’s something else you want.” He cupped her cheek and she briefly closed her eyes. But when she opened them and saw the painting, her body tensed.
“I – I don’t know,” she told him.
“I think you do know.” He kissed her atop the head. “Excuse me for a moment.” Walking across the room, he took a blanket and draped it over the painting, hiding it from sight, and returned. “Tonight, you are Lady Emmaline, and I want you to forget about everything and anything from your past.”
“I’d like to, but I can’t.”
“Stop judging yourself, my dear. You are better than that.”
“But I don’t want others to judge me,” she told him.
“Why should you care what anyone thinks?”
“Because I am a noble, and that is the way we are trained to think. Reputation is everything.”
“If I had to worry about my reputation, I’d never take a risk at all. Believe me, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Do you really believe that, Mardon?” Her tongue shot out to wet her lips and she looked up into his eyes.
“If you were mine, Emmaline, I would never judge you or make you do anything against your will.” He stroked her cheek, the warmth of his hand comforting her.
“You’re not just saying that because you want to bed me, are you?”
“Nay. I only say what I truly believe. And if it’s only bedding you that I wanted, I would have had it by now. I care for you, Emmaline, and I regret not taking you with me the day I raided your ship. If I had known what a bastard your husband was, I would have saved you from him.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” she said, reaching up and kissing him again. “I want you, Mardon.”
His body stiffened this time. He still held her in his arms. “Please be sure. And if you are, I don’t want you to ever regret anything that might happen here tonight.”
“I won’t,” she told him, reaching down and untying the front of his tunic. “Make love to me, Mardon. I need to know how it feels.”
“Aye, I will,” he said. “But first, we need to get rid of this nun attire. It kills the mood.”
She giggled as he undressed her, leaving her standing there naked. She reached out and lifted his tunic over his head, feeling so excited she could barely wait. Starved for love and affection that she’d never gotten from Jean Philippe, she longed to be intimate with a man who excited her, and who seemed to be excited by her as well.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her, drinking her in from head to foot. He reached for the ties on his trews, dropping them to the floor. Stepping out of them, his gaze remained steady on her. Curiosity getting the best of her, she let her eyes skim down his chest, past his taut stomach and then below his waist. Her eyes opened wide as she watched him grow hard.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, excited by his length, not able to stop herself from reaching out to touch him.
He responded with a sharp intake of breath as she closed her fingers around his shaft and gently gave him a playful squeeze.
“God’s breath, you are testing me,” he said, pulling her to him until her chest smashed into his. His hands kneaded her shoulders as he kissed her so passionately she thought she would explode. Then one hand slid around to fondle her breast, making her nipples go taut with desire. Dipping down to take her into his mouth, his other hand caressed her bare bottom end. When he touched the welt where Jean Philippe had whipped her, she jerked, remembering the pain.
“What’s the matter?” He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
“Nay.” She closed her eyes, trying to push from her mind the memory of the sting and sound of the whip splitting the air. Any excitement to make love now was replaced by memories of the Frenchman plowing into her and hurting her, and not giving a damn.
“Emmaline. Please, tell me.” He raised her chin with his hand and her eyes slowly opened. “What is it? What did I do wrong?”
“It’s not you,” she told him, feeling hesitant to tell him but deciding he needed to know. If not, he would think she didn’t want this union, and things between them would be ruined. “My late husband . . . he . . . whipped me.” There, she said it. The secret was out.
“What the hell? Turn around. Let me see.”
“Nay,” she said, shaking her head, feeling self-conscious that the welts on her bottom would make her seem ugly to him.
“It’s all right,” he told her gently, and she let him turn her around. “Good God, what kind of man could do such a thing to such a beautiful soul as you?” He used his fingertip to gently trace the length of the welt the whip had made. Her body trembled. Mayhap this wasn’t a good idea after all. Mayhap she’d better stop him.
“Mardon, I –”
“Shhh. Don’t speak,” he told her, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her over to the pallet on the floor. He gently laid her down, leaning over her, looking deep into her eyes, directly into her soul. “You don’t deserve something like that,” he told her. “You deserve to be treated like the true angel you really are.”
“I’m not an angel,” she told him. “You don’t have to say those things to me.”
“I only say what I mean,” he reminded her. “And right now I mean to show you that you don’t need to be frightened. I can see your pain. You’ve been hurt badly. You’ve been scarred, not just your body but also your heart.”
“Yes,” she said, crying, nodding, feeling sad but overjoyed at the same time. He was the first one to ever understand her. Who would think a pirate would be able to look into her heart?
“I plan on proving to you that making love with a man is a good thing. It’s supposed to make you feel alive, empower you . . . make you cry, but with joy instead of regret. Let me make you happy, Emmaline. I want to be the one to bring you through your pain and heal your heart. I want to bring you back to life and make you feel loved – whether it be the first time or the last. Please, let me do that for you.”
“I would like that,” she admitted, feeling as if he had taken the weight of the world off her shoulders.
“Tonight, I want you to think of nothing but the present. Only focus on you and me and what happens here between us. Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
“Nay, not good enough, love. I want a yes or a no.”
“Yes,” she said, suddenly feeling filled with confidence, knowing he was right. She needed to push past her pain and leave her troubled life behind. She was here with Mardon now, and he made her feel good about herself. He made her happy. The man didn’t care about anything she might have done to ruin her reputation. Like he said, his reputation as a pirate would always be worse than hers.
“That’s better,” he said, his body positioned over her as he held himself up, positioned between her thighs. “Now just relax and enjoy this. Let yourself go. Let out all that love you have to share.”
With his body pressed up against hers, he entered her, filling her with his essence, bringing back joy to her life again. They melded together in each other’s arms. When they both shared the euphoric moment of reaching their peaks, she threw back her head and let out a satisfied scream of unbridled passion. His low roar of release filled the air as well.
The door to the cabin banged open and Ramble ran in. “Cap’n, what is it? Are ye all right?”
Mardon’s body dropped down to cover Emmaline’s. “Ramble, just turn around and leave and forget you saw anything at all.
“Oh!” said the boy. “Y-ye’re makin’ love with a . . . a nun?”
“I said leave! And keep anyone else from entering.”
“What is it, Ramble?” Aaron came to the door next and looked inside. “Bloody hell.”
“Can ye believe it?” asked Ramble, talking about him coupling with a nun, not knowing Emmaline was really a lady.
“Damn it,” said Aaron, knowing the truth. “Nay,
I can’t believe that, once again, I’m going to be sleeping up in the lookout.” He pulled Ramble out of the room and closed the door behind them.
Chapter 9
“Good morning, my love.”
Emmaline opened her eyes to see Mardon standing over her, fully dressed and with a goblet in his hand. His other hand was behind his back.
“Mardon,” she said, yawning and stretching, feeling so satisfied from their coupling last night. “You’re up already?”
“I’ve been up since before dawn,” he told her, handing her the goblet. “Have some wine.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking the goblet, holding the blanket up to her chest to hide her nudity from him.
“You don’t need to do that,” he said, his eyes flashing over to the blanket. “We’ve already seen each other naked,” he reminded her.
“Oh, yes. We have.” She felt the blush staining her cheeks and took another sip of wine.
“For you, my lady.” He pulled a flower from behind his back and handed it to her.
“A flower?” She took the stem between two fingers and took a sniff. “How lovely. But where did you get a flower out at sea?”
“We’re not out at sea,” he told her.
“What?” she asked, feeling confused.
“We docked over two hours ago. We’re in Canterbury.”
“We are?” Panicked, she jumped up, almost spilling the wine. He took it from her and she twirled the flower in her fingers. “Why didn’t you wake me? How come no one told me?”
“It’s all right,” he said in a calming voice. “The crew is a little anxious to get to the treasure, but I told them they needed to wait until you awoke.”
“Oh, Mardon.” She rushed around, donning her nun’s clothes, dressing quickly. “I am so embarrassed.”
“Whatever for?”
“I’m sure after last night, everyone knows what we’ve done.”
“So what?”
“So, they all think I’m a nun! That can’t fare well for you, either.”
“No one thinks anything at all about anything, so stop worrying.” He escorted her out the door. As soon as she took a step on to the deck, she stopped. Every single one of the crewmembers were just standing there staring at them.
Mardon (Pirate Lords Series Book 2) Page 11
