Page 80 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Thirteen

A muffled shout sounded outside the captain’s quarters. Grace froze in the act of combing her wet hair and Eve straightened in the tub and looked toward the door.

“What happened?” Grace asked.

“I do not know.” Eve rose and stepped from the tub.

She grabbed the towel hanging over the back of Grace’s chair, quickly wrapped it around herself and hurried toward the door while stuffing the corner of the towel between her breasts. Something hard struck the door and Grace gave a cry. A man’s groan in the hallway was followed by a foul curse. As Eve’s fingers closed around the knob. The door flung open, slamming her back, hard against the wall. Pain radiated down her arm, but she registered Grace’s gasp.

“What the devil?” a deep male voice boomed in a light Scottish brogue.

Eve started to shove the door away, then regained some sense and peered around the edge. A large kilted man stood between her and Grace. Eve’s heart pounded. Where were Oscar and Lord Somerset? She glanced through the crack between the door and jamb but saw no one.

“Who are you?” Grace demanded.

Eve again peeked around the door and saw a revolver sticking out from the man’s belt. She took one quiet step around the door.

“What do you want?” Grace said, and Eve could have kissed her. “Why have you barged into my cabin?”

“Your cabin?” the man said with a slight Scottish burr. “I imagine this is the captain’s quarters. You cannot be his wife.”

“I beg your pardon?” she said as Eve took another step forward.

“I see no ring on your finger.”

“Who I am is of no consequence,” Grace snapped.

Eve took another step forward, forced a steady hand, and reached for the revolver.

“Get out,” Grace ordered.

Eve yanked the gun from his belt. He swung around and she took two hasty steps backwards, the weapon aimed at his heart.

He frowned and his gaze fixed on her towel-clad body. He grunted. “So your captain is not satisfied with just one woman.”

A shiver slid down her spine when his brows lifted over the steely green eyes. Booted feet pounded down the corridor. Another set of footsteps followed, then broke into a run.

The man folded his arms across his chest. “If you know how to use that thing, now is the time. Those are my men, and they will do with you two as they please.”

“Just as you would. Get back,” Eve ordered.

He backed up a pace.

“To the wall, sir, or I will shoot.”

“That revolver isna’ known for being accurate,” he said.

“You are a very large target. Against the wall.”

The approaching footsteps picked up speed.

“Grace,” Eve said, “come here.”

Grace scurried across the room and dodged behind her. Eve kept both hands on the revolver as she backed up to the wall, Grace beside her.

“Miss Crenshaw—Eve!” called a familiar voice from the corridor.

“His lordship,” Grace breathed.