The Baron's Bounty by Elizabeth Rose

well. That’s why her father had sent her to live with her uncle. She realized later in life that her anger was misdirected, but by then it was too late. Her father had died too, and she hadn’t been able to tell him that she didn’t really blame him – and that she loved him.
    Conlin’s horse turned around and headed down the pier right toward them. She was surprised to see him coming back in this direction.
    “Lady Isobel, you’ll ride with me to Briarbeck Castle, and you’ll not say a word about anything until we get there. Do you understand?”
    She looked over to Toft and he just nodded slightly, giving her the signal not to anger the baron anymore than he already was at the moment.
    “Aye milord, I understand.”
    He held out his hand and she took it. He helped her atop the horse in front of him instead of in back of him like most nobles would make the second person ride. She sat sideways with her feet hanging over the edge of the horse, feeling cramped in the saddle made to ride astride.
    “I canna ride this way.” She hitched up her skirts and quickly threw one leg over the pommel, now sitting astride like a man.
    He was sitting off the saddle and directly on the back of the horse, as the saddle only had room for one. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and gave the reins a swish, commanding the horse to move forward. She felt his sturdy chest pressed up against her back and the heat of his groin warmed her to the point of burning up. She thought about marrying him though it would not be a real marriage. She also wondered what it would feel like if they kissed again. But before she could ponder the situation, the young girl named Rose rode up next to them.
    “Father, who is this woman?”
    “Me name is Isobel MacEwen,” she said before he had a chance to answer.
    “I said . . . not a word,” he warned her in a low whisper against her ear. His cheek rubbed against the side of hers when he spoke and she could feel the scratchiness of the stubble on his jaw.
    “You’re going to marry her, aren’t you?” The girl looked as if she were going to cry again.
    “Rose, we’ll talk about this later, now go back to the castle.” Conlin kept his voice void of emotion.
    “I don’t want a new mother! You lied to me, father.”
    “I said – we’ll talk later.”
    Isobel’s eyes drifted down to the girl’s feet pushed through the stirrups, as she too rode astride. She wore toggle latchet ankle shoes made of soft leather, with a dark blue top-band whipstitch around the outside of the shoes. The thread looked to be made of hemp and then dyed if she wasn’t mistaken. They looked to be very expensive.
    The girl rode off, followed by her handmaid on foot, and Isobel couldn’t help herself. She called out after the girl, even though the baron had warned her to be quiet. “I like yer shoes, Lady Rose.”
    The girl just turned her head and looked at her as if she thought Isobel were addled. Then she kicked her heels into the sides of the horse and sped away.
    Isobel smiled, thinking she had to get a closer look at some of the girl’s other shoes. She wondered just how many pairs of shoes the girl had. She felt all happy inside until she heard Conlin growl into her ear again.
    “Proxy or not, I swear if I hear you mention shoes one more time, I’ll board you on a ship and send you straight back to Scotland so fast your head will spin.”
    She just smiled, because somehow right now, that very idea seemed to please her.

 
    Chapter 7
     
    Isobel awoke early the next morning, having gone straight to bed at the insistence of the baron after they’d returned to Briarbeck Castle. It seemed that when his schedule was disturbed or when he got into a tiff with his daughter, everyone in the castle paid the price.
    She’d heard from the new handmaiden he’d assigned to her that Conlin was a nice man but only when things were going his way. He didn’t like problems and lived his life in routines. He thought