Mardon (Pirate Lords Series Book 2)

by Elizabeth Rose

  Mardon looked over at Emmaline, wondering if the ship was somehow sent to look for her. She had told him she’d been sent to live at the nunnery, but he wasn’t sure what to believe. Mayhap she was still working with the French and this was all some kind of plan to ambush him.

  “Nay, I’ll handle this,” he said. “Tell Aaron to have the crew meet me on the main deck.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” said Ramble, hurrying out the door. Mardon started to leave, then stopped and turned back to look at Emmaline.

  “This better not be some kind of trick.”

  “Trick? What do you mean?” Her eyelashes batted innocently. “You think I have something to do with this French ship?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” he spat.

  “Well, I don’t,” she told him. “I have no idea who it could be.”

  “Stay here,” he told her, starting out the door and then stopping once again. He spoke to her over his shoulder. “We’re not done here, yet. Even though I know who you really are, I don’t want the crew to find out. Keep up your bloody act of being a nun . . . for now.”

  “I am a nun,” she told him. “Or almost one. I haven’t taken my vows yet, but I’ve put in my time at the convent.”

  Mardon smiled, thinking of the way the girl kissed and that painting on the wall. She was the furthest thing from a nun that he’d ever seen. “Take it from me, Emmaline. With your wanton desires, you’ll never make it as a nun. I promise you that.”

  Chapter 7

  “Aaron, get down here,” Mardon shouted, looking up to the lines where his brother was in the lookout basket, staring out to sea. “Nay, on second thought, stay there,” he called out. “I’ll come up to join you.”

  “Cap’n, are we goin’ to board and raid the French ship?” asked Goldtooth, rushing up with Ramble at his side.

  “Aaron said we’re goin’ to take it,” said Ramble excitedly.

  Mardon looked out to sea. Off in the distance, he saw another ship coming from the shores of France. Something in his gut told him to turn and sail the other way. Still, his brother was quartermaster now, and it was his decision. He didn’t want to belittle his brother in front of the others. He had to talk him out of this, because he could feel it in his bones it was a mistake.

  “Tell Stitch to stay on course to Canterbury for now. I need to talk to Aaron.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” said Goldtooth taking off for the sterncastle in a hurry.

  “Where are ye goin’, Cap’n?” asked Ramble, looking at him oddly.

  “I just told you. I’m going to talk to my brother.”

  “Up there?” Ramble chuckled. Mardon knew it was because of his dislike of climbing the rigging. Ever since he fell from the rigging on his father’s fishing boat as a young man, breaking both his arm and leg, he’d been hesitant to climb the lines and tried to avoid it. He didn’t fancy the idea, but it was the only place he could talk to Aaron in private. “Of course, up there. Don’t you see Aaron in the lookout?”

  “Aye, I see Aaron, Cap’n, but he’s always up there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen ye climb the riggin’ let alone make it all the way to the lookout basket. Are ye sure ye want to go?”

  Nay, Mardon didn’t want to, and might have changed his decision if Ramble hadn’t been laughing at him under his breath. “Wipe that smirk off your face before I knock it off,” Mardon warned him. “Now, get back to work and get the hell out of my way.”

  Mardon took a hold of the ropes and climbed, trying not to think of the pain he’d endured when he’d broken both his leg and arm at the same time. He’d been pretty much worthless for months after that, and Mardon never wanted to feel worthless again.

  He liked the feel of the wind against his face and hoped it would blow away his desire for Emmaline. He needed to get away from her and clear his head. If climbing the rigging was the only way to get peace of mind, then he’d do it.

  “Mardon?” Aaron hung over the side of the basket and chuckled. The basket swung back and forth atop the mast, and Mardon’s fingers tightened on the lines. “What the hell are you doing, Brother? Trying to break your neck this time?” He laughed again. “We all know how clumsy you are when it comes to climbing . . . or should I just say to hanging on?”

  “Shut your mouth and make room for me in the bloody basket.”

  Aaron reached down and pulled Mardon into the lookout basket with him. Mardon gripped on to the sides and released a deep breath. Now that he was off the lines, he was fine. It was just being on the rigging that made him anxious.

  “You’re not going to be sick, are you?” asked Aaron. “Because if you are, puke over the side and don’t mess up my basket. This is where I sleep now, remember.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to shut the hell up?” Mardon growled, looking out to sea.

  “There’s a French ship heading this way. I say we board it.”

  “Nay. It’s not the right time,” protested Mardon.

  “Well, I think it is. And now that I’m quartermaster, I believe I have the final say.”

  “I’m still captain, and you need to listen to me, Aaron. I have more experience in these kinds of things.”

  “If you’re not going to give me the chance to prove myself, then why the hell did you make me quartermaster to begin with?” Aaron put one leg over the side of basket, preparing to leave.

  “Wait.” Mardon reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “What’s the matter? Do you need me to carry you down on my back so you don’t fall?” he asked sarcastically.

  “Cut the crap. I’m trying to tell you something. That’s why I came up here to talk to you. I didn’t want anyone else to hear.”

  “Oh,” said Aaron, getting back into the crowded basket. “It must be important if you actually climbed the rigging to tell me.”

  “It is important. The reason I don’t think we should board the French ship is because I’m not sure it isn’t a trap.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sister Emmaline isn’t who she pretends to be.”

  “Really? Who is she?”

  “Have you taken a good look at her face?”

  “Nay, not really. She’s always looking at the ground and is very covered up. Why?”

  “If you had looked at her face and if you had seen her silvery-blond hair under that damned wimple, you would have realized she is the woman in the painting.”

  “Painting? What painting?” Aaron’s confused look suddenly changed to one of shock. His mouth opened wide. “The whore from the painting is now a nun?”

  “Aye. Nay. Well, not yet. I mean, she’s only pretending to be.”

  “Why?”

  “I still haven’t quite figured that out yet.”

  “What does this have to do with that French ship?”

  “She was married to a Frenchman, remember? The one I killed?”

  “Oh, that’s right. So you think they’re coming for revenge? We can fight them off without a problem.”

  “Mayhap so, but I don’t want to encounter them until I find out more of why Emmaline joined our little mission.”

  “It is odd that a nun wants to help us steal a treasure.”

  “She’s not a nun I tell you.” Mardon sighed and looked out at the sea. “With her lust and the way she kisses, she’ll never be one.”

  “Oh, you kissed her again. I see.” Aaron chuckled. “How was it? Kissing a nun, I mean?”

  “Stop reminding me, because I’m trying to forget.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “That good. I’m trying to forget the part that she is also trying to kill me. I have a suspicion that she is also the one who stole the ring and hid the bottle of poison in the stairs.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would she want to kill you?”

  “I don’t know that she really does, but neither do I know if she’s got an accomplice on this ship. After what happened with Noll and Wybert, I don’t want to take a chance. That’s why inviting more problems by going a
fter that French ship might not be a wise move right now.”

  “I agree,” said Aaron. “I think we should avoid it, and continue on to Canterbury.”

  “Right.” Mardon nodded, realizing now that he was here, he also had to climb back down. His arm and leg ached just thinking about it. “I don’t know why you like climbing the rigging and being in this basket so much.”

  Aaron chuckled at him. “Mayhap if you slept up here once in a while the way I do, you’d get used to it.”

  “Hopefully, I won’t live that long.” He lifted his leg over the side of the basket, anxious to get back down to the helm where he belonged.

  “Wanton desires? Hrmph. I am not wanton. And I could be a nun if I wanted to,” Emmaline talked to herself as she exited Mardon’s cabin, madder than hell. How could the cur have said these things about her? Especially when they weren’t true? She stopped in her tracks when she remembered the way she’d felt in Mardon’s arms and while kissing him. Damn, he was right. Who was she trying to fool? She never wanted to become a nun, and maybe it truly was because she liked the touch of a man too much. Nay, she told herself. It wasn’t that. She just wanted to be treated like a lady. No man, especially not Jean Philippe, had ever treated her like anything but a whore. “Mardon,” she whispered, once again wanting to feel the pleasures of the man.

  “What did ye say, Sister Emmaline?” asked Ramble, stepping in front of her. She hadn’t even seen him there.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” She reached up and secured her wimple in the wind. “I was only talking to myself.”

  “I thought I heard ye say Mardon. If ye’re lookin’ for the captain, he’s up there.” He looked up to the main mast and pointed.

  Emmaline followed the path of his finger to see Mardon and Aaron making their way down to the deck. Mardon was way behind Aaron and going very slowly. Aaron jumped down to the deck and started to gather the crew around him.

  “Why is Mardon going so slow?” she asked.

  “I guess he’s . . . I mean he’s probably . . . I don’t know. He’s takin’ his time to enjoy the view?”

  “He looks uncomfortable up there,” said Emmaline. “Not at all at ease the way Aaron swings from the lines like a monkey.”

  “He’s not scared of heights, if that’s what ye’re thinkin’.” Ramble shifted his weight back and forth. “He had a spill from the riggin’ as a boy and it brings him bad memories that he’d rather forget.”

  “Really? What happened to him?” she asked.

  “It was on his father’s fishin’ ship. He broke his arm and leg at the same time and his father called him worthless.”

  “Oh, that’s horrible.”

  “Mardon doesn’t like anyone to know about this. I heard it from Aaron, but I’m supposed to keep it a secret.”

  “And I’m sure you have,” said Emmaline, laughing inwardly, sure that Ramble had told everyone on the entire ship.

  The boy took off to join the rest of the crew.

  “We’ll be keeping to our original plan and heading to Canterbury Cathedral,” Aaron announced, getting disappointed remarks from the crew.

  “We haven’t had a good plunder in a while now,” complained Goldtooth.

  “I agree. Plus, we’re still short on supplies,” added Peg Leg Pate.

  “Why did ye change yer mind?” asked Coop.

  Aaron looked up to the lines, but still, Mardon was making his way to the deck, moving very carefully. Emmaline chuckled inwardly, thinking she could probably climb the lines faster and easier than him. He truly must be haunted by the incident from his youth.

  “We’ve got a nun on board and it’s not safe,” said Aaron. “Something could happen to her if we board the French ship. We don’t want the death of a nun staining our souls.”

  “I don’t care about my soul,” shouted Goldtooth.

  “I’ll kill the wench myself and take my chances. Just let us raid that ship,” shouted a man.

  “It’s probably filled with riches,” called out another of the crew.

  “No one is touching the nun!” Mardon finally made it down, jumping to the deck. “That’s an order. Now stop questioning your quartermaster’s decision and get back to your positions. We’ve got a treasure to find before Nereus and, this time, we’re going to beat him to it.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” the men repeated one after another. Disheartened, they went back to their posts.

  “So, that’s really a French ship out there?” Emmaline asked Mardon, looking out to sea.

  “Don’t get your hopes up. We’re not boarding it,” he grunted.

  “I’m surprised. After all, we both know how much you like to plunder.” She flashed him a sarcastic smile.

  “Walk with me,” said Mardon, taking her by the elbow. He made his way across the deck. When they approached the stairs to the sterncastle, she saw Peg Leg Pate nailing down the step where she hid the ring and poison.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in surprise, not knowing how she’d get them back now.

  “The Cap’n wants this squeaky step fixed,” said Peg Leg. “All done.” He looked up and smiled, showing his broken, rotten teeth. “If anyone sees Tristan again, be sure to tell him. He would be happy to know it’s finally fixed.”

  “We’ll do that.” Mardon all but dragged her up the stairs.

  “Why did he fix that step when there are more important things to repair, like the galley?” she asked.

  “Why are you so concerned about it, Sister? Did it put a damper on your plans?” asked Mardon, calling her that either to bother her or just to keep up appearances in front of his men.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Looking for this?” He pulled her wedding ring out of his pocket and held it up between two fingers.

  “My ring! Give me that.” She reached for it, but he quickly put it back in his pocket before she could even touch it.

  “I’ll hold on to this for now. After all, a nun would never possess such a thing.”

  “I’m not a nun and you know it,” she said under her breath so no one else would hear her.

  “Let’s just keep that between us for now. For your own safety, of course. If the men found out, they’d be swarming around you like sharks.”

  “And who is going to protect me from you?”

  He chuckled, and she didn’t like that. She was being serious. After what happened between them, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to sleep in the same room with him again. Her mind flashed to her memory of his naked backside and, suddenly, she found herself imagining all kinds of things.

  “Sister?” They were at the top of the stairs and she was lost in thought. Mardon leaned over and looked her in the eyes. “It’s rude not to acknowledge my navigator when he said hello to you.”

  “Forgive me,” she said. “Hello . . .”

  “Stitch,” the man told her.

  “Stitch?” she asked, thinking it a funny name.

  “Because of all the wounds he’s had through the years that needed to be stitched,” explained Mardon.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” she said, trying to act the part of a nun. “Bless you, Stitch.” She raised her hand to make the sign of the cross, but Mardon grabbed her arm and kept her from doing so.

  “Don’t even,” he said under his breath. “I’ll take the helm, Stitch, thank you.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” said the older man. “Sister,” he said, nodding at Emmaline.

  Mardon took his place at the helm. As soon as Stitch left, Emmaline spoke up.

  “Did you really need to do that?” She rubbed her hand. “I was only trying to keep up appearances, like you told me.”

  “Don’t go overboard,” he told her.

  “Thank you for not boarding that French ship,” she said as Mardon steered away from it.

  “You can stop that act, too.”

  “What act?” she asked, confused.

  “I can’t help feeling as if you wanted that ship to meet up with us.
What is it? Is there a fleet of ships ready to take us out because we boarded your husband’s ship?”

  “Is that what you really think? That I have a fleet at my command?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you. After all, if you were bold enough to think you were going to poison me, then I wouldn’t doubt you have other ways to extract revenge on us as well.”

  Mardon could see by the way Emmaline narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw that she didn’t like what Mardon was saying.

  “I never planned on poisoning you, but thank you for putting the idea in my head.”

  “I’m sure I didn’t put anything in that pretty little head that wasn’t already there. Now tell me about Canterbury Cathedral.”

  “Why should I?” she asked, scowling at him.

  “There is a treasure hidden there that you agreed to help us collect. By the way, why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Agree to steal. I’m sure that’s a mortal sin or something, isn’t it?”

  “How should I know? And I only agreed to help you so Nairnie wouldn’t tell you that I was a lady.”

  “What?” His head snapped around, his hands still on the wheel. “My grandmother knew who you were and yet she didn’t tell me?”

  “Does she tell you everything?” she asked snidely.

  “Apparently not. I’ll have to have a little talk with Nairnie.”

  “She only knows I’m a lady but not who I really am. Leave her alone.”

  “Do you really believe I’m going to start taking orders from a woman?”

  “Mayhap you would if I had an oversized ladle in my hand.” She grinned and raised a brow.

  “Touché,” he said, shaking his head. “Emmaline, I am trying to get to know you, but you are not making it easy.”

  “Then why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

  Suddenly, Mardon’s thoughts went wild. Did she know how much he wanted to bed her? Is that what she was asking? “What do you mean?” he asked, turning his head and looking out at the water rather than directly at her.

  “You want to know why I ever posed for that painting, don’t you?”