Page 22 of Mardon

Emmaline squirmed as Mardon stared at the naked image of her. For the second time, he ran his hand over the painting. When his fingertips glided past her nipples in the painting, she tingled, feeling as if he were doing it to her in person. Then his palm covered her womanhood and her eyes closed as she felt herself come to life beneath her nun’s attire. She remembered his kiss and gentle caresses and how they’d almost made love. It was as if he were really touching her once again, even though he was only touching the painting. “Oooh,” she heard herself moan, not meaning to do that aloud.

“What did you just say?”

Her eyes snapped open and her palm covered her mouth as she saw Mardon looking at her in surprise. Did she really just moan aloud? “I said, oh, I could never sleep in a room with that thing staring at me.”

The door opened and Nairnie strode in. She saw them both staring at the painting and her hands went to her hips.

“Mardon, cover that bluidy thing up! What is the matter with ye? Ye’ve got a nun present.”

“All right, all right,” he mumbled, going to a trunk and pulling out a blanket. When he did, something fell out and hit the floor with a clink. As the ship swayed, the object rolled over and settled at Emmaline’s feet. She bent down and picked it up, realizing it was a ring. Then her heart almost stopped as she realized it was her ring! That is, the ring that Mardon had stolen right off her finger the day he and his pirates boarded her husband’s ship.

“Oh, there it is,” said Mardon. “I’ve been looking for that. I thought I lost it.” In two strides, he made his way across the floor and was standing right in front of her. He snatched it out of her hand, his fingers brushing against her hand, causing another flit of excitement to surge through her. What was it about this man that made her wish they’d coupled that day when she’d offered herself to him to save her life? “This belonged to the strumpet,” he said, bringing her back to her senses. Anger filled her now.

“You stole it,” she accused him. “You probably took it right off her finger.”

“Aye, I think I did,” he said with a chuckle. “I can’t remember exactly, but neither does it matter.” He walked over to a small chest sitting atop a swinging table. The table was held to the ceiling by ropes. He opened up the chest, dropped the ring inside and slammed the lid closed. “It’s part of my booty now.”

“Mardon, are ye goin’ to cover up that blasted paintin’ or stand here all day talkin’ about booty?” asked Nairnie.

“It’s a shame to cover up this voluptuous beauty,” said Mardon with a sigh, draping the blanket over it and tucking the ends behind it. “The men aren’t going to like this. Now they’ll have nothing to fantasize about when they –”

“Mardon, that’s enough,” spat Nairnie. “Now, show Sister Emmaline which bed is hers.”

“Sister, you can use my brother, Tristan’s hammock,” said Mardon, motioning to the cloth hammock hanging next to a small, round, open window. “Nairnie, you can have my hammock.” Mardon nodded to the other hammock that looked to be made of rope, hanging across the room.

“Nay!” Nairnie crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mardon.

“I refuse to sleep in yer hammock, Mardon. It’s hard enough for an auld woman to get into the blasted thing. I dinna want to wake up with my hands and feet tangled in the ropes. I’ll take this one instead.” Nairnie walked over and grabbed on to the edge of the cloth hammock. She stood on her tiptoes and tried to look inside. “I hope Tristan and Gavina didna make love in here.”

“I’m sure they did,” answered Mardon.

Nairnie wrinkled her nose. “Dinna tell me. I dinna want to ken.” Her hand was on the side of the hammock. When the ship listed, the hammock swung and Nairnie lost her balance. Mardon ran over and grabbed her, righting her again.

“Nairnie, if you’d rather have Aaron’s pallet on the floor, that can be arranged,” he told her.

“Nay. I’m no’ sleepin’ on the floor.” She dusted off her hands on her skirt. “Where are ye sleepin’?” she asked him.

“Well, since you just claimed Tristan’s hammock and I’ve given my bed to Sister Emmaline, I guess I’ll be sleeping on the pallet beneath her.”

“You’re sleeping in here? With us?” asked Emmaline, not liking the idea at all.

“Aye. I’m captain and this is my cabin. Is there a problem with it, Sister?”

“I – I – nay,” she said, looking at the floor again. “I thank you for your kindness.” Then, just to make him really think she was a nun, she raised her hand in the air and made the sign of the cross. “Bless you, Mardon.”

“Hah!” spat Nairnie. “All the blessin’s in the world canna save my grandson’s soul.”

“Nairnie,” said Mardon in a low voice. “Stop it.”

“Mayhap yer prayers can help him, Sister. And make him give up piracy forever.”

“I . . . well . . . mayhap.”

“Enough with trying to save my soul. Nairnie, you and Sister Emmaline get back to the meal. The men will be hungry soon.”

“They just ate at the inn,” said Nairnie. “The meal willna be ready until tonight.”