So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(46)

“We’re farther away than ye think.”

“The tide is going in. As long as we stay afloat—”

“Nay,” Sister Fallyn argued. “Our gowns could drag us under.” She shuddered. “Or sharks could attack us.”

“We have to try!”

“Nay, I will not have ye risking yer life.”

“And ye—” Brigitta struggled to keep her voice a whisper. “Ye would let yer life be controlled by some pirates?”

Sister Fallyn hesitated. “I understand yer frustration, but ye’ll be safer here. Even if ye make it ashore, how will ye travel all the way to Ebton Palace? Ye could be set upon by brigands.” She grabbed Brigitta by the shoulders. “Lass, ye must stay here.”

Brigitta groaned inwardly. She could see the shore. Freedom. How could she give up?

Sister Fallyn patted her on the back. “Go below and rest a bit. Then ye’ll feel better.”

With a sigh, Brigitta headed down the stairs to their cabin. How could she accept defeat? How could she let the Telling Stones, or a sorcerer pirate, or even an unknown brother dictate her future?

She paused at the door, mentally reviewing all of Sister Fallyn’s objections. Her gown was definitely a problem, but she didn’t want to go ashore in nothing but her shift. If only she could wear breeches—her gaze fell on the door at the end of the passageway. Captain Landers’s room. And he was ashore right now. With his breeches off, no doubt. Just like Rupert. Blast him.

She imagined Rupert returning to the ship only to discover that she’d escaped while he’d been busy with all those women. A spark of satisfaction shot through her. Yes, she would do this!

She slipped into the captain’s cabin and found an old pair of breeches and white linen shirt. On his dresser was a small bag. She peeked inside. Gold coins! She might need them. Even so, she hesitated, her conscience objecting to her being a thief. They’re pirates, she argued with herself. The gold was already stolen.

She groaned. What choice did she have? She took the gold and clothing back to her cabin.

The woolen breeches were far too loose around her waist and felt strange and itchy against her bare legs. She stuffed the bottom of her shift into the breeches, then used her own belt to gather up the waist so they wouldn’t fall off. Before fastening the belt, she attached the bag of gold to it. The breeches were also too long, so she rolled up the hems to mid-calf. The white shirt was loose, but she was grateful the long length hid her hips and bottom. She buttoned it up to her chin, then rolled the sleeves up to her elbows.

What else would she need? She stuffed her slippers into the pockets of the breeches, along with a dinner knife Sister Fallyn had confiscated the night before.

Once she made it ashore, she would seek out the mayor of the village and beg him to contact the Eberoni army. There were always some troops patrolling the shoreline, searching for pirates. Once she was with the army, they could give her safe passage to Ebton Palace.

She eased up the stairs and peered out the doorway. The crewmen had their backs to her as they used Rupert’s pulley machine to unload supplies. She darted behind the barrels and took a look over the portside railing.

Tucker was climbing up the rope ladder as the last box was being lifted. Once he landed on deck, he ordered some of the crew to put the machine away and others to follow him belowdecks. Brigitta assumed they were going to be stashing away the supplies. The only other seamen were far to the front of the ship, where they were busily repairing some sails, so focused on their task that they never looked her way.

Her gaze drifted back to the empty dinghy. Did she dare? She’d never rowed a boat before, but how hard could it be? It was definitely a better option than swimming.

As Sister Fallyn headed toward the stairs, Brigitta slipped out and grabbed her.

“What—” The nun’s eyes widened as she looked Brigitta over. “What are ye doing?”

Brigitta put a finger to her lips to signal quiet, then whispered, “We’re leaving now.”

“What? Why are ye dressed like that?”

Brigitta dragged her toward the railing. “If we hurry, we can take the dinghy.” She hefted herself over the railing onto the wooden ladder. Goodness, this was so much easier without a long skirt!

Sister Fallyn gasped. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

Brigitta descended a few steps on the ladder. “Quickly! Afore someone sees us.”

The nun glanced frantically about. “We can’t—”

“Aye, we can. Hurry!”

Sister Fallyn eyed the ladder, and tears filled her eyes. “I-I don’t think I can do it.”

Brigitta paused. “I can’t leave without you.”

A tear rolled down the nun’s face, then she nodded. “Aye, ye can. Ye must.”

“Sister—?” Tucker’s voice sounded on deck. “Who are you talking to?”

Sister Fallyn quickly wiped her face and turned toward him. “Oh, those pesky seagulls. They’re always begging for food. Could ye show me where the galley is? Perhaps I could find some stale bread for them.”

“Oh, all right,” Tucker replied. “This way.”

Sister Fallyn waved a hand at Brigitta, a shooing gesture, before she followed the young officer.

Brigitta closed her eyes briefly as tears threatened. Would Sister Fallyn be in trouble for aiding her escape? How could she leave her behind?