But what of Reginald? Would he hate himself for giving into his body instead of honoring his brother’s memory?
“Matt?” Bridget asked as she looked up at him. Her lips were dew-covered from being kissed and her features soft and warm.
He reached for her cheek, grasping it in his hand. She was so tempting like that. Part of him wanted to forget everything else again and live in this moment for a little longer. “Ye are truly lovely, Bridget. Ye’ll make some man a fine wife.”
“Some man?” she repeated stepping back. Her parted lips closed and her features tightened. “But not you.”
He slowly shook his head. “I already told ye, lass, that I won’t marry. That doesn’t mean I won’t help ye.”
She drew in a breath, her body shuddering as she did. “Most generous,” she said slowly, the last syllable dropping low. There was nothing soft about her face now, and she straightened, pursing her plump lips. Then she swished her skirt and disappeared into the music room.
Matt watched her take a seat next to Mary, her back straight, her hands folded. Part of him wanted to call her back but he didn’t. Instead he went back inside for one more song and then excused himself. He had a boat to prepare for its first winter journey and a treasure hunt to oversee. He’d do what he always did. He’d work.
Chapter Ten
Once again, Bridget should have been grateful for Matt’s help. Instead, she was, once again, irritated with the man. He gave with one hand and took with his oafish personality.
She stomped the deck boards below her feet as their new ship slowly left the harbor. Gemma and Elle waved from the dock and she waved back. They had been generous and kind and Bridget sincerely hoped she saw them again.
Matt stood several feet behind her in the broad stance he often took on deck. His arms were crossed his feet apart, his head tall. Damn the man for looking so good. It was annoying.
Turning back, she watched the shore slip by and as the wind picked up, she retreated to her and Mary’s room. It would take close to two days to reach the wreck. If she wanted to avoid Matt, and she was fairly certain that she did, then she’d have to stay here.
Mary opened the door, having followed. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she mumbled, tossing herself onto the bottom bunk of the bed. “You?”
May nodded. “Maybe we should go back to the Sinclairs instead of going to London. Even if your dowry is recovered.” Mary sat next to her. “They are kind and generous and not motivated by selfish reasons. There is a great deal to be said for that.”
Bridget’s shoulders slumped. Being with the Sinclairs meant seeing Matt. “My aunt is family. And we’ve only known the Sinclairs a short time.”
“True,” Mary touched her shoulder. “And you’ve kissed Captain Sinclair, so that does complicate things.”
Bridget whipped her head off the pillow as she looked at Mary. “How did you know?”
Mary giggled. “You were standing right on the balcony. I looked back.”
Heat filled Bridget’s cheeks. “It was a mistake. I was swept away by the moment.”
Mary shrugged. “If you say so. I think he’d make a fine husband. Keep a woman safe and warm.”
Bridget sat up. Mary did have a point, though she wouldn’t say that out loud. Besides he was too much like her father, hard and uncompromising. Instead, she smoothed her skirts. “He lost his twin brother in an accident and has decided he won’t marry. He’s afraid of suffering more loss.”
“Oh my,” Mary pulled her mouth taut, showing her teeth. “That is awful.” Then she reached for Bridget’s hand. “Still. It’s easier to have people to depend on in this world, especially when you’ve lost. Perhaps instead of stomping around, you should try being understanding. Prove to him that you would be a comfort.” Then Mary stood.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Bridget scrambled up, her hands coming to her hips. “I’m comforting.”
Mary raised a brow. “If you say so.” Then she opened the door.
Bridget took a step toward her. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re acting as though I should be chasing him. What if I don’t want to? What if I don’t want such a hard man? Doesn’t he remind you of father?”
Mary stopped then. She drew in a deep breath. “You told me once, you wanted a man who was kind. A man who would help you and others, including me. The captain is all that and more. He’s nothing like Lord McDougal. Strong, handsome, capable, and wealthy. Why wouldn’t you want to marry Matthew Sinclair?”
Bridget’s mouth fell open. Well that was just…of all the things to say… Mary didn’t wait for her to answer as she left the room and closed the door behind her. What irritated Bridget the most was that Mary’s words were absolutely true.
* * *
Matt stood at the ship’s helm lost in thought. The new boat sailed like a dream and the crew was used to working together. Unfortunately for him, that meant he had a great deal of time to think.