Rogue Scot (Brethren of Stone 4)

Her future, meager as it had been, had just disappeared before her eyes.

Chapter Six

Matt watched the man splash into the water, an intense satisfaction bringing a smile to his face. As he glanced around at Bridget, however, her eyes were as wide a saucers and her face pale. “There’s no need to be scared lass, he can’t hurt ye anymore.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “He isn’t providing for me anymore either.” He watched as a tear slid down her cheek. “My aunt was going to take a share of my dowry for the privilege of making a match. I told you that. Now the dowry is gone and I am…” She shook as she wrapped her arms about herself. “Mary and I…” she paused, looking up at him. “I’ve failed Mary.”

He stepped over to her, grasping her by the shoulders. “You didn’t fail Mary, he did.” He pointed over the side of the boat.

Bridget shook her head. “The result is the same.” She swayed on her feet and he brought her into his chest. She didn’t fight him and lay her cheek against his shirt. “Your heartbeat is rather reassuring,” she murmured. “I don’t see why it would be. I’ve no skills and no assets other than my body. I don’t even have a change of clothes.”

“My heartbeat is reassuring because it is steady and warm.” He pulled her closer. “Your body understands what your mind does not. You, as misfortunate as you feel now, happened to stumble into the path of a Sinclair. If there is one thing my family is known for, it’s helping those in need. I’m not going to let you starve on the street, Bridget.”

Her hands rested on his chest and she tilted her chin back to look up at him. Every muscle in his body clenched. Those full lips parted in question, he was sure, but from above he could swear it was invitation. “Why? You don’t even like me.”

That made him smile. As he did, a single chuckle escaped his lips and then another. “I’m sorry,” he said as he gasped in a breath. “I don’t mean to laugh at you it’s just…” He stopped another wave of laughter taking over.

“It’s just what?” she straightened up trying to push away but he held her tight. She clearly didn’t find this as funny as he did.

&nbs

p; He cleared his throat, trying to clear his laughter. “I suppose you’re right. I rescued you and instead of thanking me, you mostly yelled at me.”

She let out a little noise, her nose going higher in the air. “I am deathly afraid of the water. I can’t help it. You could have been nicer—”

“I think saving your life was relatively nice,” he quirked a brow. “But you’re not the first woman who’s accused me of being too hard.”

Her shoulders slumped again. “Thank you for saving my life.” Her eyes focused on a point somewhere off the side. “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to take myself below deck and attempt to decide exactly what I intend to do with this life of mine that I now have.” She slowly stepped out of his grasp. He ran his hand through his hair as he watched her go. He missed her heat against him, the feel of her softness against the hard ridges of his body. And she was right. Without a dowry or a man to secure her future, it was bleak.

Chapter Seven

Bridget lay in bed that night and let the tears fall. Her father hadn’t said anything she didn’t already suspect. But the loss of her dowry, that was another matter entirely. How would she recover from that?

How would Mary?

“You’re still awake?” Mary said next to her.

“So are you.” Mary turned over.

“I heard what he said. I suppose that means we’re not sisters after all. I always fancied that we were.” Mary plucked at the coverlet, letting little tufts of air underneath the blanket.

Bridget turned to her. “I don’t care what he said. You’re my best friend and my sister. If not by blood then by choice. We’ve got each other in this world, Mary. Let’s not allow him to take that from us too.”

Mary leaned over and gave her a hug. “I agree. Maybe we can get positions in the same house. I could be a maid and you a nanny or a tutor.”

Bridget nodded into the dark. “Captain Sinclair said he could help us. Maybe he’d provide us with recommendations.”

“Fine idea,” Mary answered. “It’s not what we hoped, but it would be something.”

Bridget lay her head back down. It would be something. She supposed lots of people compromised. Her mother certainly had. But dread settled in her chest. No marriage, no children of her own, hard work, and meager pay were what she had to look forward to. At least, she’d be in charge of her own destiny. That was something. Perhaps, if she could just go to sleep, tomorrow would seem brighter. They’d dock tomorrow and stop for a short time. She and Mary would leave the ship; there was little point in travelling to England now.

Clearing her mind, she finally managed to fall asleep but when she woke in the morning she felt no better about her situation.

Getting up, she dressed and made her way up to the deck. The coast of Scotland rolled by on their left as the ocean spread out on their right. The crew buzzed about her and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Captain Sinclair behind the wheel of the ship. Her breath caught but she forced her gaze back out over the water.

“What are you thinking?” Matt called, as he strode toward her, his long legs eating the ground between them.

She shook her head. “Good morning to you too.” Her hands twisted together, as she met his gaze. “Mary and I wondered if you might be willing to provide us with a recommendation. We’ll have to seek positions here and—”