She looked down at the bottle in her hand, wondering why she’d even kept the poison. If it ever came down to killing someone, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to do it. Still, she needed protection and didn’t want to throw it overboard just yet.
Placing the bowl on the second stair, she quickly lifted the top of the broken stair, slipping the bottle and ring inside it. She had just stood up with the bowl when she heard Mardon’s voice from above her.
“Sister Emmaline, are you all right?”
“Aye,” she said, making her way up the stairs, hearing the first stair squeak beneath her foot. “I am just having a hard time standing up with all the rocking of the ship.” She held out the food to him. “Nairnie wanted me to give you this.”
“Aye,” he said, taking the dish in one hand, never letting go of the helm with the other.
“Oh, I forgot to bring you a spoon.”
“No need.” He lifted the bowl to his mouth and slid the food right into it. In less than a minute, he had devoured everything. This only made her feel sicker than she had before. With her hand on her stomach she moaned.
“Did you eat?”
“Nay,” she answered. “I couldn’t. I’m afraid if I did, I’d become sick.”
“The storm is going to hit very soon,” he told her, handing her the empty bowl. “Get back to my cabin and stay inside. Do you hear me?”
“But I need to help Nairnie clean up.”
“Sister, the first thing you’ll need to learn when you’re on any ship, is that you never, and I repeat never, question the captain’s orders.”
“All right,” she said, gripping on to the wooden railing, feeling like it might not be a bad idea to get back to the cabin.
“Tell Nairnie that I want her inside the cabin as well. I know she’ll object. So when she does, remind her that I won’t fish her out of the sea again.”
“I’ll tell her,” said Emmaline, gripping the dish in one hand and the railing in the other and heading back down the stairs.
“There ye are, lassie. What took ye so long?” asked Nairnie, quickly packing the bowls inside a large wooden box with a lid that was fastened down to the deck.
“Nairnie, Mardon wants us in the cabin right away. He said we should stay there until after the storm.”
“Nonsense,” she spat, grabbing the dish from her and throwing it into the box. “We’ll wash these later.” She slammed closed the lid, picking up her ladle. She wiped it with a rag, leaning against the box so she wouldn’t fall. “I have work to do, and I willna lose what little supplies I have to the storm.”
“Mardon said he won’t fish you out of the sea again.”
“Oh,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the waves crashing over the sidewall now.
“Go, Nairnie. I’ll pack up the rest of the things,” said Ramble, jumping in to help.
“Batten down the cargo,” yelled Aaron from up in the lookout basket. The ship leaned and Emmaline held on to Nairnie with one hand and the lines with the other. She looked up in astonishment to see Aaron, with bare feet, untangling the lines, holding on with just his legs.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she told Nairnie.
“Ye’ll get used to it after a while. But for now, I agree with Mardon. Ye need to stay in the cabin before ye’re washed overboard the way I was.”
“What are you saying, Nairnie? Did you really fall overboard at one time?”
“How do ye think I ended up on a pirate ship? Now, come on. Ye need to get to the cabin and stay there, just like yer captain ordered.”
An hour later, Emmaline sat on the floor of Mardon’s cabin with her back against the wall and a bucket between her legs, feeling as if she were going to die. Nairnie had lit a lantern, and stood on a box to get into Tristan’s old hammock. She had actually fallen asleep! It amazed Emmaline that anyone could sleep when the ship was about to be smashed to pieces by the crashing waves. She couldn’t even imagine how the crew kept from being washed overboard.
The damned blanket had fallen off the painting in the storm. Her naked image stared her in the face, mocking her, haunting her, making her feel hot. So hot. She ripped the wimple off her head and threw it down. Then she took the rosary from around her neck and placed it on the floor. If she could, she would rip off this damned robe and sit here naked, but that was never going to happen. Her eyes closed and she tried to pretend she was anywhere but on a pirate ship right now. Mayhap if she was lucky, the sea would claim her and she wouldn’t have to worry about her reputation, the painting, Mardon, or anything ever again.
The storm finally ended, and Mardon handed the helm over to Stitch, feeling too anxious to even think about sleeping.
“Aaron,” he called to his brother.
Aaron dropped down from the lines, his long, blond hair soaked from the rain and sticking to his body just like his clothes. All the men were wet and tired. The storm had proved to be worse than he’d thought. “Report,” he said, heading down the stairs with Aaron right behind him.
“Everyone is accounted for,” said Aaron. “We have a few rips in the sails and the galley is flooded, or where the galley used to be, but besides that, we fared well. Ow!”
Mardon heard the stair squeak just as Aaron cried out. He turned around to see Aaron holding his bare foot, hopping up and down.
“I cut myself on a nail,” said Aaron. “It’s that stupid step that Peg Leg never fixed.”
“Damn it,” spat Mardon. “If you wore shoes this wouldn’t happen.” He came back and bent down to examine the stair. That’s when he noticed that the board was sticking up farther than usual. He pulled up the plank, seeing something inside. “Get me a lantern. Quick.”
“Hold on,” said Aaron, running over and removing one from the railing. He hurried back and held it up. “What is it?”
“I think there’s something in here.” Mardon reached in and pulled out a small bottle filled with liquid. Stuck on the neck of the bottle was a ring. “What the hell?”
“I’ve never seen that bottle before,” said Aaron, holding the lantern closer.
“Nay, but this ring certainly looks familiar.” Mardon removed the ring and held it up in two fingers. “I stole this from that French ship. From the naked woman.”
“The what?” asked Aaron.
“You know. That woman who offered herself to me. The one in the painting.”
“Oh, that one. Well, what is the ring doing in the step?”
“Someone hid it here.” He popped open the bottle and took a sniff.
“What is it?” asked Aaron.
“I’m not sure, but it smells like . . . belladonna and hemlock.”
“Poison,” said Aaron. “Who would have hidden that there? I hope we don’t have another traitor on board. I thought when we got rid of Noll and Wybert, we were done with all this.”
“Apparently not,” growled Mardon.
“Are you going to bring this up in front of the crew and ask who did it?”
“Nay.” Mardon closed up the bottle, slipped the ring into his pocket and hid the bottle back inside the stair. “I’ll take back what is mine for now. But when the culprit comes to claim what they hid, I’ll be waiting for them. Keep this to yourself, but keep your eyes and ears open. If there is a traitor on the ship wanting to poison me, not to mention steal from me, I’m going to make sure I catch and do away with them immediately.”