Page 40 of The Iron Earl

“Dammit, Evalyn.”

Her feet were chewed up. Bloody from festering blisters that surrounded the tender skin of her heels. Bloody from blisters that ran along the sides of her feet and gnarled the tips of her toes. So red and pus filled, he could barely make out where her skin had remained solid under the swelling.

“The devil take it. Why didn’t you tell me this had happened? Why didn’t you tell me they were too small?”

She tried to swat his hands away from her feet, still trying to pull them back into the confines of her skirts. “I didn’t know this was happening except for the pain. You had been so kind in procuring the boots and it need not be your concern.”

“Not my concern? How can you bloody well walk on these things?”

“I thought it would be fine today. I soaked them last night at the inn, but to no avail. It seems to have only made the sores worse. It was hard to get my feet into the boots this morning.”

He stared at the bloody mess, twisting her feet back and forth, trying to convince himself it wasn’t as bad as it looked. He’d had blisters like this once, riding along his heel, and he knew full well that it hurt like the devil scratching pins into one’s skin.

He twisted her left foot and his finger slipped across her heel.

“Ouch.” She yanked her foot away, his fingers tearing at the skin on the way.

Her face crumpled, her breath coming fast and hard and she fought the pain.

“Evalyn—”

Her hand flew up, pushing at him as she tried to yank her right foot away, a scream at her lips. “Stop. Don’t touch me. Please just stop, Lachlan. Please stop.”

His jaw dropping, he released her foot. The force with which she didn’t want him to touch her was palpable.

He rocked back on his heels, staring at the auburn sweep of her hair atop of her downturned head. He steeled his voice to calm. “What do you propose to do, Evalyn?”

Her head tilted slightly up, her gold-green eyes shooting venom at him. “I propose you let me be, Lachlan.”

“Let you be? Leave you in a quivering mess on the side of the road?”

“Yes.” Her look shifted to her boots on the ground. “I will force my feet back into those torturous leather prisons and I will catch up with the party. I swear it.” Her look centered on him. “Just leave me be.”

Stubborn woman.

He met her gaze, his own look immovable for a long moment. She wasn’t going to let him help. Not without some incentive.

Lachlan stood and went to her dress, picking it up and refolding it into a tight bundle that he tucked into his arm. He veered to pick up her boots, setting them atop the dress.

“Lachlan, what are you doing?”

Ignoring her, he went to his horse, setting the gown and boots behind the saddle and securing them with a leather strap.

“Lachlan, no.” Her hands supporting her, walking up the trunk of the tree, she tried to get to her feet. “No, I said—” She gasped, wincing hard as her feet took the full weight of her body when she tried to step away from the tree.

She fell back against the trunk, starting to slip down the bark.

Three long steps and he was back to her, catching her along her waist before she sank to the ground.

“Is that enough for you?”

She looked up at him, squirming in his arms even as pain sent her brow into wretched folds. “Enough what?”

“Enough pain so you will accept my help?”

He loosened his hold, setting her back on her feet.

She winced, her eyes squeezing tight. She nodded.