“Yes,” he said reassuringly.
“Now perhaps we need to concentrate on procuring you some boots,” she said looking down at his feet. “Is there a town nearby?”
“We can be to Tynedale in a few hours,” he said. “At least they didn’t get the horses.”
He glanced down at the unconscious man at his feet in disgust. “I’m sure his fellow thieves will be back for him.”
“Help me move him closer to the fire so he doesn’t freeze,” she said reaching down to grab the man’s arms.
He arched an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Once they had moved the man close enough to the fire, she bent over to tug the boots from the man’s feet. Simon smiled as he realized her intent.
She dropped the boots on the ground by his feet. “Think they’ll do?” she asked.
He glanced doubtfully at them but bent down to thrust one foot inside. After a few moments of trying to force his heel into the worn leather, he sighed in aggravation and tossed the shoe back toward where the man lay.
Isabella shrugged. “It was worth a try.” She turned back to the unconscious man for a moment then back at Merrick. “Help me get him out of his shirt. We can tear the material into strips and wrap your feet.”
Merrick fumbled with the buttons, and between them, they managed to free the material from the man. She pulled at the shirt, trying to tear it, but it was sturdy. Merrick took it from her and ripped it in two. Then he bent down and wrapped the linen around each foot.
She retrieved the pistol from the ground several feet away. Turning, she handed it to Merrick. “We may have need of this later.”
He nodded and tucked it into his pants.
As they mounted their horses, Merrick turned to her. “Once again you surprise me, Princess.”
She looked inquisitively at him.
“Is there no situation in which you are at a disadvantage?”
“Necessity breeds success,” she replied. “I cannot fail, therefore I won’t.”
She knew she sounded little better than a braggart, but she spoke the truth. She would not fail. Could not allow anyone to come between her and what she had to do. To entertain anything less would be opening herself up to disaster. She would succeed, or she would die. It was that simple.
“I think you are perhaps the most extraordinary woman I have ever met,” he said, grudging admiration in his tone.
“If I was truly extraordinary, I could have prevented my parents’ deaths,” she said softly.
“You cannot blame yourself for the madness of others, Isabella. It is something I learned in my profession a long time ago.”
“No, I suppose not,” she said with a sigh. “But if only I hadn’t stood there like a marble statue, watching as they cut down my parents.”
“There was nothing you could do,” he said firmly. “But we will see to it that they are avenged.”
Warmth spread up her body and into her chest. He spoke as if he had taken up her cause with her. The thought that she was not going about this alone bolstered her like nothing ever had. She felt the ridiculous urge to smile like a child who had just been given a pony.
They rode along for several minutes and Isabella glanced down at his feet. The thin material probably didn’t offer much protection from the cold, but at least it was something until they could replace his boots.
She cleared her throat and glanced back up at him. He plodded forward, his shoulders moving in rhythm with his horse. Their conversation of two nights ago weighed heavily on her mind. He had dodged her question about his brother, but she had seen the pain on his face. Heard it in his voice.
She was unsure of how to broach the subject, though, and she had a keen desire to know as much about him as she could.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, interrupting her flow of thoughts. He had unwittingly opened the door for her question uppermost in her mind.
“I was thinking about our conversation—about your family,” she said, gauging his reaction to her statement.
His expression became shuttered, and he looked away.
“What happened to your brother?” she asked softly.
