Rogue Scot (Brethren of Stone 4)

Matt shook his head. “No. I’ll see to it myself. You’ll have to do the next run without me.”

Hennessey raised his eyebrows. “Without you?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That is something I thought you’d never say.”

Matt gave his friend a wink. “You’re more than capable.”

Hennessy gave him a slapped his back. “I know that. I just didn’t think you did.”

Matt spluttered playfully. The truth was, he was going to recommend Hennessey take his position when he left. Returning below deck, he made his way to the ladies’ room. Raising his hand, he gave a loud knock. When no one answered he knocked again, louder.

“’Lo?” someone called, the voice high yet scratchy.

“This is the captain. I need to speak with you.” He banged on the door again. Why weren’t the bloody women up?

“The ship’s master told me not to open the door for anyone,” the woman replied. He didn’t have to ask to know the lady currently disobeying him was the very same who’d given him a difficult time last night. The little minx.

“Open up,” he ordered again.

“Isn’t he the captain of this vessel?” she said, her voice getting closer. “I thought only naval ships had a ship’s master.”

He let out a rumble from deep in his chest. Feck, this woman was annoying. “I am captain of the fleet and military trained while he runs this particular boat. Now open the door, I need to discuss where I am returning you. Or do you want to be dropped at the next port with the rest of the sailors?”

He heard the lock click and the door squeak open. She peeked out of the two-inch crack but it was enough for him to take note of several factors. Her brown hair tumbled over one shoulder in loose waves even as her cheeks shone a delicate shade of sleepy pink that matched those full lips. Her eyes were a lovely shade of

golden brown and damn him all to hell if she were wearing nothing but her chemise. “Where are your clothes?”

She clicked her tongue, her golden brown eyes squinting. “Still soaked, I would imagine. Do you have anything else I might wear?”

She had him there. Well and truly. “I’m sorry. I do not.”

“Then we’ll be staying here until they dry, captain.” She gave him a weary eye. “I feel the boat moving. What direction are we heading?”

“North,” he answered and saw her features tighten.

She looked down at the floor. “Back to Scotland, then.” Her quiet voice sounded tight.

“What’s wrong with Scotland?” he asked, straightening.

One of her shoulders went up and down. “Nothing particular. Except for that it’s where my fath—”

“Lady Bridget? Is everything all right?” the other female called.

Lady, huh? No wonder she sounded so spoiled. Though to be fair, his sister was also a lady and lovely.

Lady Bridget looked back. “It’s fine, Mary. Go back to sleep.”

“We will reach England soon?” Mary called. Matt held back another groan or irritation.

Bridget shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Where will we go then?” Mary fired back, alarm ringing in her voice.

What the bloody hell did that mean?

“I don’t know, yet.” Bridget answered and then turned back to Matt.

“What do you mean, where will you go? Did I not just hear her call you a lady? You will return to your family.” He raised his hands as though the answer were obvious.

Her gaze narrowed. “Try to wrap your mind around the fact that you don’t know everything.” Then she closed the door and, as he reached for the knob, he heard the lock click. Did that woman just lock him out of a room on his own ship?