Rogue Scot (Brethren of Stone 4)

She gasped as the cold water hit her, her gaze flying to his. For a moment, they stood like that but she relaxed her hands on his shoulders. “I’m ready.”

His chest swelled with pride. Going in a wreck wasn’t the safest. The boat could shift and trap them, water could rush in. Instead of being afraid, however, he was overcome with satisfaction.

Then it hit him. He’d stopped allowing fear to drive his life. Instead, joy and hope were coursing through him. Bridget wasn’t the only one overcoming fears.

They walked toward the large hole and ducked down inside. It was dark but the water wasn’t any deeper and the boat blocked most of the waves. “My room is so close to the hole, I’m worried my trunk might have washed away.”

He said little as they made their way down a short hall. He didn’t know exactly how much money her dowry was but he knew he could easily replace it. After meeting her father, however, he understood that this money meant far more than its sum. The dowry represented freedom to create her own life.

She turned into a doorway on the left, and without a thought, bent into the freezing water, her hands reaching under the bed.

“Be careful,” he rumbled. Who knew what sea creature might have taken up residence? He knelt next to her just as she pulled out a small trunk.

“Mary’s,” she said as she handed it to him. Then reaching in again, she pulled out another.

“Is it yours?” he asked.

She looked at him, her eyes wet with tears.

* * *

“It’s mine,” she answered her hands clutching the trunk. She tried to pick it up but it was large and laden down with water. And her arms were weak from the cold and the realization that she had recovered her future.

That wasn’t true. Glancing up, she realized, her future knelt down next to her. He would both care for her and allow her the space she needed to grow and become the person she’d always wanted to be. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Grabbing the trunk, he gave her a soft kiss in return as he handed Mary’s luggage, a smaller case, back to Bridget. “I’ll carry yours. Is there anything else you want?”

She shook her head. “No, this is it.”

They both stood and began dragging the trunks through the water. It was a slow business and Bridget realized why they hadn’t come yesterday when the tide had been shifting. The process might take a while even in this small amount of water. And if they’d had to abandon the trunks before they’d loaded them onto the dinghy, they’d risk the cases being washed away by the hide tide.

“What will you do with it? Your dowry?” he asked.

When he’d first told her she could keep it, she’d been overwhelmed with his understanding. He knew she needed a certain amount of space. To not feel trapped by their marriage the way she’d been trapped by her father as a child. But the very act of giving her the money had proven he wouldn’t be that man. “I’ve thought a great deal about my options and I’ve decided to give it to Mary. She doesn’t have a family name to fall back on so a dowry will help her to find a good husband.”

“I thought you wanted to keep it for yourself. Your insurance of sorts for your future.”

She straightened. “I don’t need insurance. I’ve got you.” Then she leaned over and touched his cheek. “I love you, my hard-as-stone Matthew Sinclair.”

“I love ye too,” he said then kissed her again, pulling her wet body up against his warmth. “And I think I’ve proven that I’m not all that hard.” He stopped and straightened. “In fact, I think Reginald would be proud of me. I’m living my life more like him. It’s an honor to his memory, don’t ye think?”

“I definitely do.” She started pulling Mary’s trunk again. “Do you think for our first trip we can go to London? My aunt may be worried I haven’t arrived. I know she was supposed to get a portion of the dowry as repayment for finding a match for me.”

“You’re still going to give it to her?” he asked as they reached the hole in the boat.

Bridget stopped again. “I am. I think she’s desperate. I can sympathize with her.”

“Do you ken her?” He ducked through the hole and lifted her trunk out. The surf was stronger here and it pulled at Bridget as she widened her stance to lift out Mary’s trunk.

“She came to visit once as a child.” She stopped. “Then she married and we didn’t see her again. Her and my mother exchanged letters, though. I don’t think either of them were happy in their marriages.” She stepped out of the hole and Matt reached back in to grab the trunk for her. She held onto the wood of the hull, trying to articulate her thoughts. “She’s the only family besides Mary that I have.”

He gave a nod. “We can continue onto London now if ye’d like. We can either provide her with an income or invite her to live with us.”

“You’re serious?” she held the wood tighter as waves lapped at her legs. It was more generous than she could have ever imagined. Emotion clogged her throat as she tried to say more.

He stepped close to her, clasping her face. “If there is one thing these hard Sinclairs understand, it’s family.”

“I was wrong. You’re not rock.” She let go of the wood and grasped him about the waist. “But you are the best man I’ve ever known.”