Page 33 of Mardon

“I wouldn’t put it past you. After all, if you were bold enough to think you were going to poison me, then I wouldn’t doubt you have other ways to extract revenge on us as well.”

Mardon could see by the way Emmaline narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw that she didn’t like what Mardon was saying.

“I never planned on poisoning you, but thank you for putting the idea in my head.”

“I’m sure I didn’t put anything in that pretty little head that wasn’t already there. Now tell me about Canterbury Cathedral.”

“Why should I?” she asked, scowling at him.

“There is a treasure hidden there that you agreed to help us collect. By the way, why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Agree to steal. I’m sure that’s a mortal sin or something, isn’t it?”

“How should I know? And I only agreed to help you so Nairnie wouldn’t tell you that I was a lady.”

“What?” His head snapped around, his hands still on the wheel. “My grandmother knew who you were and yet she didn’t tell me?”

“Does she tell you everything?” she asked snidely.

“Apparently not. I’ll have to have a little talk with Nairnie.”

“She only knows I’m a lady but not who I really am. Leave her alone.”

“Do you really believe I’m going to start taking orders from a woman?”

“Mayhap you would if I had an oversized ladle in my hand.” She grinned and raised a brow.

“Touché,” he said, shaking his head. “Emmaline, I am trying to get to know you, but you are not making it easy.”

“Then why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

Suddenly, Mardon’s thoughts went wild. Did she know how much he wanted to bed her? Is that what she was asking? “What do you mean?” he asked, turning his head and looking out at the water rather than directly at her.

“You want to know why I ever posed for that painting, don’t you?”

“It never even entered my mind. But now that you’ve mentioned it, why did you?”

He saw her body actions change suddenly. She wrapped her arms around her and her eyes became glassy. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You might be surprised. Try me.”

“The bastard I was forced to marry decided to expose me to his friends . . . for money.”

“What?” This thought made Mardon angry. “What the hell?”

“That’s right. He forced me to pose for that painting and then he charged his friends to look at it – at me, hoping they all lusted after me, which they did.”

“God’s eyes,” spat Mardon, thinking of all the times he and his men did exactly the same thing, even if there was no money involved. “I’m sorry you had to live through that. It can’t have been easy.”

“You’re just a pirate. Why should you even care?” A tear dripped down her cheek as she looked out at the sea. Mardon saw the pain in her eyes and his heart went out to her. He reached out with one hand and brushed away her tear with his thumb.

“I might just be a pirate, but I also know what it feels like to be used, or to have people thinking you are something you’re not.”

“Like worthless?” she asked, making him wonder why she chose that word.

“I suppose so. Emmaline, if you were my wife, I’d never do such a horrible thing. I’d treat you like a princess.”