Scottish Devil (Brethren of Stone 1)

“Good to hear it.” It was like a physical ache, the need to pull her against him. But it wasn’t the place or the time. “Ye’ve helped me too.”

Her smile was soft as she glanced up at him. “I’m glad.”

Not since he’d allowed that woman to pull him into the alley had he been so keen to be alone with a female. He’d cracked open the door to attraction and a floodgate of emotion was threatening to break through.

Looking down, he realized he gripped the rail so hard, his knuckles had turned white. He tried to relax his grasp. No matter how wayward his body tried to be, he would control himself. She was inexperienced and he never lost control.

It was his saving grace.

The ship continued out of the harbor and by slow degrees, he relaxed.

Eliza’s laughter filled his ears as she pointed at the gulls or gave a yelp over a wave. Spray blew up into their faces and when she shivered, he finally tucked her under his arm. It was for her…not for him.

But he had to admit that the feel of her pressed against his side started the riot in his body all over again.

After the most pleasant hour he’d had in a very long time, he walked Eliza back to the cabin where her father waited. He didn’t want to leave her, but like so much of his life, there was work to be done and responsibilities to be met. “I’m sorry we couldn’t stay for longer.”

Her eyes were soft, her face relaxed as she turned to him. “I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I, lass.” As they reached the door, he bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. He wished he could capture her lips again, but he dared not in such a public fashion. “Another hour with this wind and we’ll reach Kirkaldy. I’ll come get ye as we enter the port.”

She nodded and reached for the door, slipping inside. He watched her go and, even after the door closed, he found himself still staring at the wood panels.

Returning to the deck, he took a lap about to find the captain of the ship. He wanted to be prepared for what they might find.

Seeing him near the helm, Stone headed for Captain Rice. The man gave him a welcoming smile. “Ye’ve finally torn yerself from the little lady, have ye?”

Stone didn’t mean to, but he must have glowered because Rice blinked several times then looked away. “Not that it’s any of my business, my lord.”

Stone waved his hand. The truth was, it wasn’t the man’s business and he didn’t want to discuss Eliza with anyone. His feelings were private. But he’d known Captain Rice most of his life. “It’s fine,” he grunted. “Tell me what possible reasons there are for these ships being late.”

Captain Rice gave a quick nod. “It’s unlikely, though possible, they’ve both wrecked. Or something could have happened that’s preventing the ships form leaving the harbor.”

“Such as?” Stone asked.

“The opening to the harbor is fairly wide so I doubt it’s anything natural. Could be a fleet of ships blocking it.”

A twinge of fear stabbed at Stone’s chest. He should have had this conversation yesterday. In his mind he’d been thinking a sand bar had formed and blocked the entrance. “A navy?”

The captain shrugged. “More likely privateers or pirates.”

He raked a hand across his jaw. Hell and damnation. He should have left Eliza at home. “How battle-ready are we?”

Captain Rice grimaced. “Not very. Our strategy is usually to keep vigilant guard and to employ evasive tactics.”

“But if they’ve blocked the harbor?” Stone stood straighter, his chest swelling. If it were pirates, they would have sealed off the harbor and demanded a ransom to allow ships to pass again.

“Then our ships wouldn’t fight their way out. They’d be stuck.”

This was Stone’s boat. Because it was made to transport the family, it had been equipped with extra cannon. “How are your men with the cannon?”

The Captain’s face twitched. “They could use a refresher.”

Stone’s fists clenched. “Why did we not have this conversation before today?”

The Captain took a partial step back. “My apologies, Lord Alban. I did try to discuss it with you yesterday, but you were locked in your office.”

Stone let out a little growl. He was stretched too thin. “The fault is mine then. What is our plan for today?”