Page 48 of Mardon

Emmaline watched over the sidewall of the French ship as they set sail, leaving Canterbury behind. Her heart ached. Not only had she lost her father, but she’d lost Mardon as well. The last thing she wanted was to be Jean Philippe’s wife again. She would rather die than to go back to France and have to live in shame with a man who whipped her and demoralized her every chance he got.

“Wife, come away from the sidewall before you fall in.” The cur put his hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” She spun around, pushing his arm away. “I would gladly die by being claimed by the sea, rather than return to France as your wife. Why did you have to survive the pirate’s blade?”

He chuckled, his hand going to his side when he laughed, as if he still hurt from the thrust of the blade that almost took his life. “Now that I have you returned, as well as this, I’m back in business again.” He held up the rolled-up painting. She tried to grab it from him, but he pulled it away. “Uh, uh, don’t do that, Wife. You will make me angry, ma chérie.”

“I’m not your darling and I’m certainly not your wife either.”

“You are my wife, whether you like it or not.”

“I hate you!” she spat. “And I hope Mardon’s next thrust of his blade goes right through your heart. I want you dead.”

“Now, is that any way to talk to the man who is your master?” He reached for the whip at his side. Her eyes opened wide.

“I – I’m sorry,” she said, hugging her arms around her. The thought of the sting of his whip against her skin already had her body trembling.

“You called the pirate who raided our ship by name,” he said, hooking the whip back on his waist. “That tells me you know him. Plus, you seem to think he’s coming after me. Tell me how, s’il vous plaît.”

“It’s none of your business.” She looked back at the shore and could see Mardon’s ship still docked. She hoped Father Elroy had been able to get her message to Mardon. Of course, Mardon was probably so angry with her right now that he wouldn’t come for her, and she couldn’t blame him. Her heart sank. After all, she’d made him look like a fool. She’d stolen from him and reneged on their deal. He’d given her his heart and she’d pushed it away because he was a pirate. What made her think she’d ever be happy being married to another nobleman? It was only when her father accepted Mardon and told her to marry for love that she’d realized her mistake.

She did love Mardon, but dismissed the idea of staying with him because she was judging him. Emmaline had felt she was better than him since she was noble and he was a cutthroat. But now, she knew she was wrong. Jean Philippe was noble, but acted more like a pirate than Mardon. Oh, how life took its twists and turns. It made her wonder if Mardon would ever find his precious treasure.

“Everything to do with you is my business. I own you,” snarled Jean Philippe.

“You do not own me! No one does.”

“When we took our vows, you sealed that deal.”

“I’ll find a way to leave you, I swear I will. I won’t stay as your wife. Not after the things you’ve done to me.”

“There is no rule to stop a man from disciplining his wife. As a matter of fact, it’s expected. So, you see, ma chérie, you have no one on your side but me. You have no family and nowhere to go. My sister will never let you back at the manor since it’ll be hers now.”

“Nay, it’s not hers. It’s my family’s manor! And your sister is the one who poisoned my father.”

“You can’t prove that. If you go around spouting nonsense about a noblewoman, you will be locked away. So, I warn you, still your tongue or I will do it for you.”

Emmaline leaned on the sidewall of the ship again, tears filling her eyes. She had never felt so alone in her life. If she had only returned from the convent sooner, she could have shown the bottle of poison to the healer and mayhap he could have saved her father. But now it was too late. Now, she felt her father’s death was partially her fault, too.

How she longed for the warmth and protection of Mardon’s arms around her. But Mardon was a pirate and had a crew and a grandmother to care for. He wouldn’t care what happened to her. She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, staring down to the water below. She had half a mind to jump, and let the sea consume her. But if she did, then Jean Philippe would get away with treating her badly, and her stepmother would never pay for the murder of her father. Nay, she had to live to see justice served. She would be strong. She was a survivor. One way or another, she just had to see Mardon again.

* * *

“So, what do you think, Mardon?” asked Aaron, pulling Mardon from his thoughts.

“What?” Mardon had been staring out to sea, not even paying attention. Stitch was at the helm, and they were heading south down the channel.

“Mardon, havena ye been listenin’?” asked Nairnie.

“Of course, I have,” he answered.

“Then what do you think it means?” she asked.

“What do I think what means?” Mardon had been thinking about Emmaline and had no idea what his brother or grandmother had said.

“God’s eyes, focus on the conversation on yer own ship!” scolded Nairnie. “Aaron, tell him again what the clue said.”

Aaron glared at Mardon and let out a frustrated breath. “All right, but this is the last time I’ll repeat it. I was lucky to even see it since that girl took it from me at Canterbury Cathedral.”