“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.