Free The Baron's Bounty by Elizabeth Rose Page B

think I need the silk embroidered ones fer a weddin’. Tho they’ll need te be cleaned first.”
    “Nay.” He slammed the lid of the trunk shut, almost clipping her hand in the process. She jumped backwards, dropping the pair of shoes he’d given her. “You’ll wear those, and we’ll stop wasting time. Now put them on, and let’s get moving.”
    “Och, ye dinna hafta sound so angry aboot it.” She scooped them up and sat on a chair and started to don them. “I’ll wear these fer now, and then I’ll change me shoes after the ceremony and wear me dancin’ shoes at the banquet.”
    “It’s a simple wedding on the beach, and there’ll be no banquet since you are only a proxy. Now, you’ll wear those for everything, and have no others. There’s no need for more than one pair of shoes. What you need are some clothes.”
    “What do ye mean?” She looked up slowly as she finished donning her shoes.
    “Guard,” he called out, and one of his men entered the room, followed by another.
    “You called, my lord?” The men both bowed, keeping their eyes away from Isobel’s nearly naked body as was proper.
    “Take this trunk out of here anon.”
    “Aye milord.” The guards picked up the trunk and started toward the door. Isobel’s eyes grew wide.
    “Where are they takin’ it?” She jumped to her feet.
    “Take it back to my ship,” he instructed the guards.
    “Oh, ye’re goin’ te have it delivered te me chamber once we get te Sandwich. Guid.”
    “Nay. I’m going to take it back to my castle and divide the shoes amongst my servants.”
    “What?” Her brows snapped together. “Nay. Ye canna do thet. They’re mine.” Her head whipped toward him, back to the trunk, and then back to him again.
    “Lady Isobel, nobody needs that many shoes.”
    “Well, I do! They are me things, and I willna let ye take them from me.” She reached out for the trunk, but Conlin grabbed her arm and held it at her side until the guards had left the room and started down the hall.
    “I thought we’ve been over this already,” he continued. “The bounty I found at sea is mine, so I can do what I want with it. The shoes are worthless, but the servants will like them since they wear-out their own shoes so fast that they sometimes even have to go barefoot.”
    “Those shoes arena fer peasants and servants.” The smile he’d witnessed earlier had disappeared from her face. “They are shoes made by the finest cordwainer in Scotland. They are worth twice the amount o’ all of the clothes I lost in the shipwreck.”
    He chuckled amusingly. “They’re just shoes. God’s teeth, you sound as if you’ve just lost the Crown jewels the way you’re carrying on. Actually, I don’t know why I’m even bothering hauling them back to Sandwich. I should just tell the guards to leave the trunk here. Or mayhap I’ll throw it overboard and leave it as bounty for someone else.”
    “How dare you!” She stuck her nose in the air and looked like she wanted to kill him. It was crazy, but the girl seemed to really care about the bloody shoes. “You canna do thet.”
    “And why not?” He found the whole scenario intriguing and looked her right in the eye. He’d thrown down the gauntlet between them and challenged her to pick it up. And she did.
    “Because . . . because the writ o’ confirmation from Lady Catherine sayin’ I am her proxy is at the bottom o’ the trunk.”
    “Really?” He didn’t believe her for a moment, but mayhap he should check before he disposed of the trunk just to make sure.
    “How do ye e’en ken I’m really a proxy and no’ jest sayin’ thet? It seems te me ye’d be better off with some proof. Fer all ye ken, I could be a servin’ wench tryin’ te be married off te a rich baron.”
    He pondered the thought. She made a good point. He did want some confirmation that she was Lady Catherine’s proxy before he married her. For all he knew, her infatuation with shoes could be because she was a