“Now I’ll be the judge of that.” He leveled a stare at Merrick then gestured with the gun. “Take off your boots.”
“What?” Merrick demanded.
“Ye heard me. Take off your boots before I blow them off.”
With a grimace, Merrick bent down and hopped on one foot while he pulled one boot off then the other. He tossed them angrily at the man and stood in his stockings, the material soaking up moisture from the damp ground.
The man then reached into Merrick’s pocket and took out the timepiece and money pouch.
“Well, well, well, what ‘ave we ‘ere?” He turned to the two other men. “Our man ‘ere is rather plump in the pockets.”
He tossed the money pouch to the men, who greedily opened it up and poured the coins and wadded bills out onto the ground.
He then sauntered back over to Isabella and glanced down at her boots. She held her breath, hoping against hope that he would leave her boots. At first she had given thanks that she had hidden the ring and the map in the toe of her slightly overlarge boots, but now it appeared as though she would lose them anyway.
A quick glance over at the other men told her they were absorbed in counting Merrick’s money. She watched the man with the gun out of the corner of her eye and waited for an opportunity. And then she had it. The man turned away from her, his hand still holding the gun in her direction as he looked back toward Merrick.
In an instant, she lashed out with her arm, connecting with his wrist and knocking the pistol to the ground. She swung her leg around on the heels of her blow and connected with his knee.
He howled in pain as his legs buckled, and he crumpled to the ground.
The two other men scrambled up from the ground. One collected the money and immediately ran for the trees, but the other barreled over to engage Merrick. As Merrick met the man’s charge, Isabella took advantage of her opponent’s distraction and leaped for his gun.
As her hand connected with the cold metal of the barrel, a hand curled around her wrist, nearly snapping it with the force of his grip.
“Bloody bitch!” he snarled as he backhanded her and sent her reeling backwards.
Her cheek buzzed like an angry bee, but she was on her feet in seconds. Anger flashed hotly over her, and she now had the advantage as he was still on the ground. She snapped her foot out and kicked him in the nose. Blood immediately burst from his face, smattering the ground below him.
Not giving him any time to react, she connected again, this time square in the jaw. She felt a crack and knew she had broken his teeth. His hands went up to cradle his nose and jaw, and he screamed in pain.
She sent the gun skittering across the ground and out of reach with her foot as she advanced on the man once more.
He lurched to his feet, backing frantically away from her. “Demon bitch!”
He nearly tripped over Merrick’s boots that lay on the ground. Grabbing them up, he turned and fled in the same direction the first man had run in.
Merrick had just crumpled the remaining man with a fist to his jaw when Isabella ran over to assist him.
“Are you all right?” he demanded, taking her shoulders in his hands.
“Yes, are you?”
“They got away with all my money and my damn boots plus the knife I had hidden in them,” he growled, pounding his fist into his hand in frustration.
He looked back up at her, and his hand went swiftly to her cheek. “You are not all right.”
He gently touched the place where the man had struck her and she winced.
“I am fine,” she protested. “It is nothing.”
“I’d like to kill the bastard for touching you,” he said in a dangerously low voice.
“Truly, I am fine.”
He looked down at his bare feet in disgust. “We must find another way of securing passage to Leaudor. I had hoped to hire a ship with the money the brigands stole, but now our only choice may be to stow away.”
“We will find a way,” she said in a low voice.
