So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(12)

Rupert slipped on his leather gloves, vaulted over the railing of the crow’s nest, then slid down a rope to the main deck. As he approached the starboard railing, he asked Stefan in Tourinian, “What’s taking so long?”

With a sigh, Stefan turned toward him. “Apparently it’s difficult to climb a ladder in a long skirt. Not to mention the poor woman is trembling with fright.”

Brigitta was afraid? Guilt pricked at Rupert once again as he glanced over the bulwark.

It was the older woman who was trembling as she ascended the ladder. Brigitta was standing on the rowboat, clinging to the rope ladder with one hand while she used the other to keep her companion’s skirt from getting caught underfoot.

The older woman slowly climbed, pausing on each narrow wooden slat as if she needed a moment to rally her courage. She wasn’t that old, Rupert realized. Perhaps four or five years older than himself. But she was definitely frightened. The princess smiled at her as she murmured encouraging words.

She’s brave, Rupert thought. And caring. No doubt the older woman had come along to watch over the younger one, but it was Brigitta who was doing the comforting.

A barking sound broke Brigitta’s concentration, and she whipped her head toward the sea.

A seal? Rupert was surprised to see a large black seal swimming next to the dinghy. Seals normally stayed much closer to shore where it was easier to catch fish.

Brigitta’s shoulders slumped as if she was disappointed; then she turned back to help her companion. By now the older woman was halfway up, and soon she would be out of the princess’s reach.

“Let’s get on with this.” Rupert motioned to two of his most muscular crewmen. “Pull the ladder up.”

“Hang on, madam,” Stefan yelled over the bulwark.

The older woman yelped as the two men hauled her up the side of the ship.

“We have you,” Stefan said while the two muscular crewmen hefted her over the railing.

The woman took one look at the bare-chested, tattooed seamen who had manhandled her and shrieked, pulling away from them with enough force that she barreled into Stefan and nearly knocked him over.

Stefan regained his balance as he steadied her. “Don’t worry, madam. You’re—” His speech halted when she gazed up at his face.

For a moment they froze, then the woman apparently realized she was clinging to his coat.

“Oh! I beg yer pardon.” She released him and jumped back, her cheeks blushing.

Stefan continued to stare at her in a daze.

Rupert snorted. But his amusement quickly soured into a pang of regret. For it was his fault that Stefan had taken on a life of deception and thievery. At the age of thirty-eight, Stefan should have been long married with half a dozen children by now.

“Your name, madam?” Rupert asked softly in Eberoni.

The woman spun around and gasped, her eyes widening at the sight of a masked man. “Goddesses protect—” She stopped herself with a gulp and clenched her hands to keep from making the sign of the moons.

“You may worship as you please while on board, madam,” Rupert told her. “As seamen, we are indebted to the moons and stars for navigation.”

“Oh, thank you.” She eyed him warily. “And ye are—?”

“Rupert.”

With a look of horror, she stumbled back. Stefan caught her, and she jerked away from him. “I’m quite fine, thank you.” She wrapped her cloak tightly around herself as her gaze flitted nervously about the deck. “I am Sister Fallyn from the Convent of the Two Moons.”

Stefan winced. “Dammit to hell.”

The nun shot a disapproving look his way. “I would appreciate it if ye refrain from using such foul language in front of my charge—oh, Brigitta!” She ran to the railing and looked over. “Are ye all right?”

The ladder had fallen back down the side of the ship.

Rupert peered over the bulwark. The princess had taken hold of the ladder to begin her ascent, but she was looking back at her companions on the Eberoni ship. After one last wave, she turned back to the ladder and glanced up.

Rupert stepped back out of view. Holy crap. There had been tears on her cheeks. Don’t feel sorry for her. Her family was guilty of heinous crimes. But what if she was as innocent as she looked?

Dammit. Rupert scrubbed a gloved hand over the two-day-old whiskers along his jaw. Why should he feel guilty? He was doing her a favor by keeping her away from her evil brother.

“Be careful!” Sister Fallyn yelled to Brigitta.

Rupert glanced over the bulwark once again. The princess was holding a wooden rung with one hand while using the other hand to lift her skirt out of the way. Slowly but steadily, she worked her way up. Too slowly.

He opened his mouth to give the order to have her hauled up, but hesitated. The rope tied to the stern of the dinghy was right next to the ladder, so he could easily help her himself. She’s the enemy. Stay the hell away from her.

But the image of her tear-streaked face needled him. Hadn’t he made a pledge to that innocent baby girl in her lacy white crib? “Shit.”

Sister Fallyn eased away with an appalled look.

Rupert swung over the railing and slid silently down the rope. He stopped with the toes of his boots resting on a large knot. Next to him, Brigitta was focused on her skirt and apparently oblivious to his arrival.