Free The Baron's Bounty by Elizabeth Rose Page A

didn’t seem as if it even bothered her that the rest of her things were gone. Instead, she bent over, allowing him to see down her cleavage and up the back of her covering as she dug through the trunk of shoes like she’d found pirate’s booty.
    “Och, they arena completely ruined like I thought they’d be. Jest a little work from the cordwainer and they’ll be as guid as new.” She stood up with several shoes under her arm, and so many in her hands that she was dropping them.
    “What is the meaning of this?”
    “The meaning?” Once again, came a blank stare. “I wear them on me feet. They’re shoes!” She giggled and it sounded so sweet it was hard to be angry with her for acting like a dolt. He was starting to see now why she made such a fuss about having her trunks returned. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to wear another woman’s clothes – she just didn’t want to lose these shows for some odd reason.
    “Pick a pair to wear, and put the rest back in the trunk,” he told her in a low voice.
    “Oh, I dinna ken,” she said, examining the shoes as if she were a healer with a sick patient. “They are all so nice, and I dinna like te show favorites.”
    “Egads woman, they are only shoes. Stop talking as if they were your children.”
    “They may only be shoes te ye, but they are so much more te me,” she said, picking up a few more tho he didn’t think it was possible. “Each pair holds a meaning fer me.” She held up a pair of small, simple brown shoes. “These were the first shoes me faither bought me when I turned into a woman.”
    “They look small,” he grumbled.
    “They are. Me feet have grown two sizes since then.”
    “Then why do you still have them?”
    She seemed appalled by his question, and cradled the blasted things to her chest as if she were protecting a baby.
    “They mean a lot te me. Just like these shoes that I wore when me mathair took me te Edinburgh the first time I saw the king.” She nodded to a pair of shoes in her hands. “And this pair I found in the moat and had the cordwainer help me repair fer me own needs.” She nodded toward another.
    “So . . . those shoes were found in the moat?” The thought was less than appealing. “They could have been off a dead person, Isobel.”
    “Well, if so, they wouldna need them anyway, so what does it matter?” She giggled again, and her entire appearance changed. She went from looking like a helpless maiden in distress to someone who held her head high, her back straight, and her entire stance regal. It was amazing, since she stood there covered in naught but an old drying cloth.
    “Well, you don’t need them either.” He took them from her hands and placed them back into the trunk. “I can’t believe you chose to bring a trunk to England that contained a bunch of worthless shoes, most of them that don’t fit you anyway.”
    “Thet’s no’ true. A lot of them do fit me feet. And they’re far from worthless.” She put down a few pairs and a doting look of comfort colored her face. “They’re all so nice thet I canna decide which ones te wear. I suppose it depends on what type o’ gown I’ll be wearin’.”
    “Well, since it looks like you’ll be wearing a drying cloth to our wedding, I’ll do the honor of choosing for you.” He took the armload of shoes from her and threw them into the trunk, watching as her mouth turned into a frown and her eyes narrowed. He reached down and picked up the plainest looking pair that were made from low-grade leather and had just a thin sole. They looked the most functional out of the whole lot, and probably the easiest to walk in. They would protect her feet on the beach, and not slow him down as he dragged her along with him. He held them out to her. “You’ll wear these. Put them on quickly, as we have no time to waste.”
    “I do like these, as they’re verra comfortable,” she said with a nod, then looked over to the others in the trunk. “Howe’er, I