The Brazen Bride

Logan stared at Linnet in increasing horror as she grinned at Griffiths.

“Yes, we’re heading out.” She waved at Logan. “Major Monteith must reach Plymouth urgently, and I’ve volunteered to take him.”

She started toward the rear hatch; Griffiths fell in beside her. Logan followed, still struggling to take it in-feeling very much as if he’d been hit over the head again.

“We’ll go out on the morning tide,” Linnet continued. “Please summon the crew and have everything made ready. And Dodds said Cummins has cargo for us to take, and there may be more as well. If they have it here in time to load before the tide turns, I’ve agreed to take it-I told Dodds to have the merchants report direct to you.”

“Aye, ma’am. We’ll have all ready to sail on the tide.” From the corner of his eye, Griffiths was eyeing Logan in the same measuring manner as Edgar, John, and the men at the house had.

“Excellent.” Pausing by the companionway hatch, Linnet glanced at Logan. “Major Monteith will have the cabin next to mine. We’ll be spending the night on board. Tell Jimmy and Cook we’ll have dinner in my cabin.” She turned to go down.

“One moment.” Logan was still grappling with the news that Linnet- Linnet -was the captain of the Esperance , but… he fixed his gaze on her face as she turned back, brows rising a touch haughtily. “There’s something I intended to tell the captain-whichever captain you inveigled to ferry me across the Channel.” Apparently her; every instinct rebeled at the thought. His lips thinned. “It’s possible we’ll meet resistance somewhere between here and Plymouth.”

She frowned. “From the cultists chasing you?”

“They’re not skilled sailors, but they have deep pockets, enough to hire captains and crews who can sail and are willing to engage, even with a peaceable vessel.” He glanced at Griffiths, who he took to be her first mate. “You can’t count on them behaving rationally-they’re dangerous because you simply can’t predict to what extent they’ll go to seize what they want.”

“And they want you?” Griffiths asked, eyes narrowing.

“They want the document I’m carrying,” Logan replied. “It’s crucial evidence to bring down a villain-an Englishman who’s been wreaking havoc in India-and he, of course, doesn’t want it to reach the authorities.”

Griffiths snorted, looked at Linnet. “Well, he won’t catch the Esperance , that’s for certain.”

She nodded. “Give the orders and have the crew armed and ready to sail by dawn. We’ll put out the instant the tide turns-the others will give way to us. What winds are expected?”

“For Plymouth, fair. We should be able to catch a good breeze once we’re round the point.”

“Good.” Linnet stepped through the hatch. “I’ll be below. Make sure the others report as they come aboard- from the sounds of it, we’ll want a full complement for this trip.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Logan stood and watched her descend. He wanted to put a halt to the insanity; just the thought of her facing cultists made his gut clench sickeningly. But… how to do that without trampling on her toes-or, worse, her pride? Still wrestling with the ramifications of this latest twist in who and what she was, feeling strangely helpless as if awash on a tide he couldn’t control, he hoisted their bags and followed her down the narrow stairs, then along the tight corridor to the cabin door through which she’d passed.

Ducking, he stepped through the open door. Filling the space across the stern, the cabin was large and, like her office on the quay, beautifully appointed, all polished oak paneling and furniture, the latter anchored to the floor. To one side stood a desk, with an admiral’s chair behind it and two smaller chairs facing it. In the center of the room was a round table, with bench seats attached, while in the far corner a good-sized bed was built out from the wall, with storage below and racks above. A sea chest sat at the foot of the bed, with an armoire along the wall, while the inner wall played host to a built-in washstand with every necessary amenity.

A lamp was set into the table’s center; there were holders for cups and candlesticks at suitable positions around the room.

It was the best, most comfortable cabin Logan had ever seen.

Tossing her cloak on the bed, Linnet started pulling pins from her hair. “Shut the door-and I’ll have my bag.”

Pushing the door closed, Logan set down his bag, then crossed the cabin and put hers on the bed. With her hair loose, tumbling about her shoulders, she set her pins down, opened the bag, rummaged inside, and drew out a long-sleeved white shirt. Nudging Logan aside, she went to the sea chest-from there she pulled out a pair of leather breeches, a waistcoat, and a coat.

Logan blinked. When she tossed the clothes on the bed, he reached out and touched the breeches-and found the fawn leather butter-soft. The image taking shape in his mind did not bode well. “Linnet-”

“Help me with these laces.” She gave him her back.

He frowned. Muttered, “This must be what King Canute felt like.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” He swiftly undid the laces while evaluating his options. “Linnet-I appreciate all you’ve done and are doing for me, but…” Having freed the laces, he stepped back, sat on one of the bench seats, his back to the table. Leaned his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands the better to keep them from her. Locking his gaze on her face as she glanced inquiringly at him, he said, “Frankly, I’d be much happier getting some other ship.”

She considered him for a moment, then smiled, almost secretively, and stripped off her gown. “No, you wouldn’t be. Happier, that is. Let me tell you why.”

He frowned, found himself watching in curious fascination as she pulled off her shift, then, drawing a long linen band from her bag, set about binding her breasts. He knew women sometimes did that, for hard riding or similar violent exercise… shaking off the distraction, he forced his gaze back to her face. Recalled her last words. “So tell me.”

Her faint smile suggested she knew very well to where his mind had wandered. But then she grew serious. “At this moment, completing your mission is your highest priority, and rightly so. It’s important-the outcome will be far- reaching, affecting many lives in a positive way. The choices you make must be those that give your mission the best chance of succeeding-and if that means you must put personal feelings aside, then that’s what you’ll do.” Tying off the band beneath her left breast, she met his eyes. “You’re that sort of man.”

Lips thinning, he couldn’t disagree, but… “Be that as it may, there’s plenty of ships in the harbor here, and surely one of them-”

“No.” She pulled on the shirt; it billowed about her slender arms. Settling the neckline, then lacing it, she continued, “Of all the ships in the harbor, the Esperance represents your best chance by far of reaching Plymouth safely.” Toeing off her half boots, she picked up the soft breeches and stepped into them. Tucking in the long tails of the shirt, she buttoned the waistband. “And contrary to what you’re imagining, the prospect of pursuit and attack, of action, only makes that more so.”

Logan felt adrift, cut free of the moment again. The soft leather clung lovingly to her long legs. As she shrugged into the waistcoat, buttoned it, then pulled on the loose captain’s coat, all he could think was that the masculine attire only made her look more intensely feminine.

More blatantly female.

Also more dangerous.

“We have superior capability, unmatched speed, and a highly experienced crew.” She went to the armoire, reached inside, and drew out a pair of long boots. Pausing to button the closures at the ends of the breeches’ legs, she glanced at him. “Believe me, if that weren’t so, if I didn’t believe the Esperance was the best ship for your mission…”

Stepping into the boots-high boots in gleaming black leather that reached above her knees-she tugged and stamped, then, straightening, looked him in the eye. “If I didn’t know the Esperance was the safest ship for you to take, I’d set aside my own feelings and find you the best ship and captain, and twist his arm to make him take you instead.”

Reaching up, Linnet parted her hair, then set about swiftly plaiting it. “As matters stand, however, you’re going