Read The Summer Bride (A Chance Sisters Romance) for Free Online

something with a rope and pushed. The little boat left the wharf with a swish, and the man started rowing.
    Flynn sat down beside Daisy. “It won’t take but a moment to get to the ship.” It was a bit of a squash, but the feel of his strong body beside her was a comfort. He’d said he could swim.
    Shamed by her stupid panic, Daisy sat as still as she could, her back straight, her head held high. She held on tightly and, she hoped, inconspicuously. She was shaking like a leaf.
    The oars splashed, the sailor pulled in a steady rhythm.
    After a moment, Flynn said quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you really were frightened of the water.”
    Mortified by his quiet sympathy, Daisy mumbled, “It’s nuffin’.” She hated being such a coward.
    And then because he seemed to be waiting, and because she felt so foolish, and because the salt-sour acrid smell of the river was half suffocating her she found herself muttering, “It’s just . . . I nearly drowned once.”
    “What happened?”
    “Bloke pushed me in. Thought it was funny, stupid bast—” Remembering she was trying to clean up her language, she broke off. “I can’t swim. Lucky for me a riverman saw me go under. He pulled me out with a ruddy great hook, ripped me dress to bits.” She grimaced. “He thought it was pretty funny too—said most of his catches were dead uns, but I was still wriggling.” A shudder rippled through her as she remembered.
    Flynn slid an arm around her waist. “Well, you’re perfectly safe with me.”
    Daisy tried not to lean into him. Normally she would have shaken him off—she didn’t need the temptation—but she was too grateful for the secure, solid feel of him. In any case, temptation was the last thing on her mind—she was too bloody scared.
    As they slid smoothly through the water, the shape of the big ship slowly coalesced out of the fog. They traveled in silence, the sounds of the river echoing around them, made eerie by the fog and their lack of context. It was taking forever.
    Beside her Flynn let out a little huff of amusement.
    She turned her head and eyed him suspiciously. “What?”
    “I’m thinkin’ even if you did go in, you’d be in no danger of drowning.” He added, “Wood floats.”
    “What?”
    “You’re as stiff as a board. Likely if you hit the water you’d float.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him. Then she elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.
    “Ooff!” But he was laughing too. “That’s better,” he said. “And here we are at the ship.”
    The little boat bumped gently against the side of the ship. Overhead she could see the prow, with the figurehead of a carved and painted bare-breasted woman pointing from it. The name
Derry Lass
was painted in crisp gold-edged black letters.
    A rope ladder hung down from the side of the ship. Daisy eyed it. Her stomach clenched. Climbing a fixed wooden ladder had been hard enough, but a rope one that would twist and swing, with the river beneath her . . .
    “I can’t—” she began.
    “Ahoy there,
Derry Lass
!” Flynn called up. “Lady comin’ aboard.”
    A couple of heads appeared above, then a rope with a canvas sling was lowered.
    “Sit in that,” Flynn said, helping her to her feet. “The lads will haul you up. It’s perfectly safe—like a swing at the fairground. We use it for loading and unloading cargo—and ladies.”
    Anxiety scalded her throat, but she’d made a right ninny of herself once already this morning, so she swallowed her objections—and her fear—and allowed Flynn and the sailor to help settle her onto the strip of canvas.
    “Ready?”
    She nodded, clutching the ropes like grim death. Lordy, but she felt a fool.
    “Take her away, lads,” Flynn called up.
    The ropes snapped taut, the canvas sling pulled tight around her bum, and “Lord lumme!” Suddenly she wasswinging in the air, swaying over the water, her feet dangling and her skirts blowing.
    “Keep still,” Flynn instructed.
    One of her shoes fell