“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.