Page 23 of Mardon

“Do it early,” he told her, heading for the door. “There’s a storm coming, and I doubt anyone will get sleep tonight.”

“Storm?” asked Emmaline with a giggle. “It is sunny without a cloud in the sky.”

“Believe me, there’s a storm on the horizon,” he told her, stopping and looking back over his shoulder. “I can smell it in the wind.”

“You can smell it?” She giggled again, thinking he was jesting. He muttered something and headed out the door.

“He’s right,” said Nairnie, rubbing her hip. “I feel it in my joints. Sister Emmaline, I’ll need yer help since I no longer have a workin’ galley.” She followed Mardon from the room.

“I’ll be there soon,” she called out after the old woman. “I just need to . . . to pray first. For Mardon’s soul,” she called out and then slammed the door.

“He’ll need a prayer when I’m done with him,” Emmaline grumbled, heading over to the hanging table and throwing open the lid of the chest. Her ring sat atop a bunch of other jewelry. “I can’t believe he stole all this.” She picked up her ring and slid it on her finger. Then she picked up a handful of the stolen necklaces, rings and bracelets, tempted for a moment to keep some of them. She had no money, not to mention she’d had to leave all her jewelry back in France or at the convent. How she longed to wear fine clothes and jewels and feel like a lady again.

“Nay,” she said, slamming shut the box. She wouldn’t stoop so low as to steal stolen items from pirates, no matter how desperate she was. Her eyes shot up to the painting next. It was covered with a blanket, but part of the painting still showed. She walked over to it, seeing a bare foot sticking out from the covering. Slowly, she reached down, picking up the hem of her robe, untying the dagger attached to her leg. Holding the dagger in one hand, she started to lift the blanket with the other. She had to bring back proof to the king. She needed this painting to give to him so he could destroy it and then betroth her to a noble Englishman.

All she needed to do was to cut the painting out of the frame and then hide it until she left the ship. She would use the dagger to do this, and then cover the frame back up. No one would ever know. When she was finished, no man would ever gaze at her naked body in this painting or run his hand over it again.

Ripping down the blanket, she froze when she saw the large, naked painting of herself, staring her in the eyes. The painter had put a smirk on her face, opening her mouth slightly, making her look naughty. The pose was rather seductive, she realized, never really having looked closely at the painting since she hated it so much. To her horror, she realized Nairnie was right! Her back was slightly arched, making her breasts jut out, and her legs were not pressed together. She hadn’t posed like this! That painter really did make her look like a wanton whore!

“Oh, no!” she whimpered, biting her lip. This was even worse than she’d thought. It made her want to forget all about bringing it back to King Edward, and slash the thing to pieces instead. She raised the dagger up, but stopped when the door slammed open behind her.

“Sister Emmaline, I decided I’d better escort you.” Mardon stood in the doorway. “Nairnie said you’d be along shortly, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to . . . what are you doing?” he asked.

She spun around, dropping the dagger to the floor, kicking it back behind a trunk. “Mardon,” she said, and smiled.

He sauntered into the room, cocking his head and looking at her from the sides of his eyes. Then a sultry smile spread across his face. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You do?” she asked, feeling her heart about beating from her chest. She wrung her hands together. That’s when she felt the ring on her finger, remembering she’d put it on. She hid her hands behind her back as he continued to walk toward her.

“Admit it, Sister Emmaline. I won’t tell anyone. I want to hear you say it aloud.”

“Admit what?” she asked, slipping the ring off her finger, grasping it in her hand. She searched for a pocket to put it but, unfortunately, the nun’s robe didn’t have pockets.

Mardon walked up close to her, stopping right in front of her. “Give me your hand,” he said in a deep and sexy voice.

“M-my hand?” she asked. “Why?”

He held out his palm and waited. Before he could discover she had stolen the ring, she reached out with her empty hand, still wondering what he was doing.

“Let me help you,” he said, grinning and taking her hand in his. “Then it won’t feel like such a sin.”

“I – I don’t know what you mean.”

“Shhh,” he said, taking her hand and lifting it up to the painting. He spread her fingers and glided them over her own naked image, swirling her hand around her breasts and then dragging them down to her groin. “I heard you moan in ecstasy when I did this before,” he told her. “I know you are longing to do it. That’s why you stayed behind. Just admit it.”

Her eyes closed and she felt that tingling sensation again, but it had nothing to do with the painting and everything to do with the fact he was holding her hand and running it over her naked image. Damn, why did he have to walk in right now? And how was she going to get out of this one?

“Say it,” he whispered close to her ear, so close she could feel his breath on her face. “I promise it’s not a sin. And I won’t tell a soul. You’ll feel better if you do. I know I do when I admit I want the woman in the painting.”

“I – I don’t know what you mean. I don’t feel that way at all.”

“Are you sure?” he asked with a chuckle. “I saw the way you just closed your eyes and I can feel your body trembling under my touch.”

Oh, God, why did this have to be happening to her? She could never tell him what she had really been doing. And the last thing she could ever admit was that she had closed her eyes and was trembling because she liked the way it felt being close to him and having him hold her hand in his. All she could think about was kissing him right now.

“What the hell is takin’ ye two so long?” came Nairnie’s bellow from the door. “I canna make food for the entire ship before the storm comes unless I’m goin’ to get a little help.”

“I’ll help you, Nairnie,” said Emmaline, breaking away from Mardon and nearly running to the door.