Page 60 of Mardon

“Does this mean we can have those tasty biscuits again?” asked Aaron. “You know, the ones with all the butter and little pieces of herbs on them?”

Suddenly, everyone forgot about the painting, thinking about their stomachs instead. Mardon knew it didn’t take much to distract his men and his plan worked. Now, he only needed to come up with a plan for what he was going to do with Emmaline. As much as he didn’t want her to go, he couldn’t keep her on the ship. He was a pirate and she was a lady. No matter how much they thought they loved each other, they were from two different walks of life. He wished the best for her and would be sad if she left, but there was no way a woman could stay here and he knew it. The crew was right. Emmaline was going to have to leave. Now, he just needed to find the right moment to tell her.

Chapter 15

Emmaline stood dripping wet on the floor of Mardon’s cabin with her teeth chattering. Her body shook, and her mind became muddled after everything she’d just been through. Her eyes focused on the empty frame on the wall. The painting was gone now, and she hoped that part of her life was gone forever as well.

She was glad she had burned the painting. However, in doing so, she ruined any chance of proving she destroyed the evidence that would earn her another chance to marry a nobleman. Her father told her that the king was willing to pardon this action, but he needed to see the painting before it was destroyed to know what she said was true. She had it in her hands, but had no way to get it to the king. Panic had filled her when Jean Philippe imprisoned her in his clutches, taking her back to France. That wasn’t supposed to happen. The man was supposed to have been dead!

Now, all she had left was her word that she had accomplished the task, but who would believe her? Was it good enough for a king? She sincerely doubted it. Especially since now her father was gone, and couldn’t speak to the king on her behalf.

There was a knock at the door and she walked over and opened it.

“My lady, Mardon wanted this trunk brought to you.” Aaron held a handle on one side, and Ramble held the other.

“I told him I didn’t want anything from the French ship,” she answered.

“Aye, but he also told us ye needed something to wear,” answered Ramble as they came into the room and dropped the trunk in the middle of the floor.

“Nay, I don’t want it,” she said adamantly.

“Are you really going to walk around the ship looking like that?” asked Aaron. His eyes scanned down her body. “You know you should at least cover up your legs. Now that the men know you’re not a nun, they’ll be looking at you in a whole new light. Just like they used to every time they looked at that naked painting of you.”

“What?” Ramble was perusing the trunk, but his head popped up at that. “Are ye sayin’ that naked lady in the paintin’ was her?” His eyes scanned down her body. “Oh, yes, it was.” His face turned red. “I see that now. I should have known by that silvery-blond hair.”

“Stop staring at her!” Aaron hit Ramble on the arm.

Ramble cleared his throat and looked the other way. “Sorry about that, my lady.”

“Ramble, please, don’t mention this to the rest of the crew,” begged Emmaline.

“Aye, Mardon doesn’t want them to know,” added Aaron.

“Well, thank you both for bringing the trunk,” said Emmaline with a sigh. “Mayhap I should change into something warmer. I am wet and very cold.” Her teeth still chattered.

Both men still stood there, waiting for her to open the trunk. Their eyes were fastened to it.

“Was there something else you wanted?” she asked.

“What? Who us?” asked Aaron. “Nay, of course not.” He turned and headed to the door, stopping to look back at Ramble still standing there, staring at her now.

“Ramble, there is work to do. Leave Lady Emmaline alone. And God’s eyes, stop staring!”

“Oh!” Ramble jumped and turned around, heading toward the door. “I wasn’t starin’ at her,” he said. “Really. I just wanted to know what was in the trunk.”

Emmaline followed them to the door and closed it. Laying her head upon the wood, she closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She didn’t belong here with these pirates. If she stayed, it would only be a distraction for Mardon. Plus, the men were sure to all know she was the girl in the painting, now that Ramble knew the truth. Being stared at all day by a bunch of randy pirates wasn’t something she wanted or needed.

Flipping open the lid of the trunk, she looked down to the clothes inside. This had been her trunk with her things in it. She lifted up a gown made of blue velvet with white lace and long tippets. The train of the gown was too long for her and would be dragging across the deck of the ship with men constantly stepping on it. Plus, these long sleeves would only get in the way if she had to grab on to something quickly in order not to fall. Nay, this would never do. These were the clothes of a lady meant for castle life where she sat still doing needlepoint all day. They weren’t made for wearing on the sea.

She looked at a few more gowns, but each was more inappropriate than the last for wearing on a ship. Next, she held up a shoe. Even that wasn’t going to work. The soft slippers would always be soggy. The side buckle shoes had smooth bottoms and she’d be sure to slip on a wet deck. The last thing she needed was to end up like Nairnie and fall into the sea.

Looking around the room, she spotted a trunk against the wall. She walked over and opened it. Inside were the clothes of a man. She picked up a tunic and held it up. She decided it must be Mardon’s since it was so big. This would never work.

Then she went to the other side of the room and opened another trunk. It, too, was filled with men’s clothes. They were smaller and must be Aaron’s. However, she was too small to wear these either.

There was a knock on the door and she answered.

“Come in,” she said.