Page 47 of The Iron Earl

The cloth.

Even though her feet felt so much better submerged in the coolness of the brook, she picked up a strip of the cloth and pulled her left foot from the water.

She crossed her left leg atop her right so she could hold her toes in midair, swirling them slowly to dry before she started wrapping.

He cleared his throat. “We are to cross into Scottish lands on the morrow.”

“How much farther is Vinehill beyond that?”

“Another day.”

She nodded, her look drifting away from her foot to settle on an eddy across the rippling surface of the water. She’d finally learned how to navigate this small crew of men and now it would be ripped away from her, a whole new life to navigate in Lachlan’s household. If she’d been more successful in making herself useful with these men instead of a constant burden, perhaps she’d walk into Vinehill with a modicum of confidence.

As it was, she feared a lion’s den where she was set to be the hunk of meat.

“That makes you nervous?” Lachlan asked.

She looked to him, her head bobbing in a slow nod. “How did you know that?”

He pointed to her hands.

She had just twisted the strip of cloth in her fingers into a mangled mess.

Her knuckles fell to her lap, her fingers loosening on the cloth. “Yes, I am nervous.” She forced a strained smile. “But I was nervous leaving with your party as well. So I will work through it again, just as before. I asked for this, and I mean to see it through.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at her and for a long breath, his hazel eyes bored into her, appraising her.

“Here.” Lachlan motioned toward her foot. “It’ll be easier if I wrap it.”

“You?” Her eyebrows drew together. He wanted to help wrap her feet?

“Yes, me.” He picked up several strips of cloth that sat on the ground between them and then motioned with his fingers to her leg. “Give me your foot.”

Her mouth slightly agape, she stayed frozen in place.

He shook his head, a crooked smile curving his lips, and he leaned forward to grab her ankle. Pulling it toward him, he settled her heel gently into the cradle of his knees.

After snapping one of the strips in the air to straighten it, he set the end of it under her big toe and wrapped it slowly and evenly about her foot, each overlapping row moving downward toward her heel.

“I have a proposal for you, Evalyn.” His focus stayed on her toes, his large fingers managing to be the softest whisper against her raw skin as they wrapped her foot. “Something that will ease the transition to Vinehill.”

“Yes?” Relief filled her chest—she knew enough to accept any and all help he advised.

“Marry me.”

“What?” She jerked her foot away from him.

Any help except that.

His fingers still clutched the strip of cloth and his grip on it made the cloth tighten around her skin, strangling her foot as she yanked her heel from his lap.

“Ouch.”

He dropped the edge of the cloth and snatched her ankle in midair, pulling it back toward him.

Shaking his head, he glared at her. “I’ll need to redo this one.” His concentration went downward and his fingers were quick to unfurl the cloth from her foot and start the whole process again. “And you need to stay still.”

Once he had her foot half wrapped again, he glanced up, his eyes searching her face for a long second. His left hand moved to wrap around her ankle, locking it into place. “I think you heard me correctly before, Evalyn. I am proposing marriage.”