“Sorcha was bruised and sore, but fared better than Ian who needed stitches mended. As she worked, he moved little, his skin flinching only when she pulled the thread through. "It will heal cleanly." He grunted. "It shouldn’t scar too badly." He turned his head and looked up into her face. "Would it make a difference? There’s enough of them. What’s one more?" He turned away. She bit her lip at the comment, hoping she hadn’t offended him. "You really shouldn’t be riding until this heals for a few... days." "Aye. But if we’re to go to court with Argyll, we’ll have to leave on the morrow." She pulled the thread through its last stitch and neatly tied a knot. "Must we go?" "Aye." Ian shrugged into his shirt, grunting at the pull of the stitches. Archibald entered the kitchen as Sorcha packed away her thread and dropped her needle into a cup to pour boiling water over it. "How fares the patient?" he asked Sorcha. "I fare fine," Ian ground out. "Are you able to travel to Edinburgh, then?" Ian and Sorcha’s voices chimed in discordant harmony as he answered aye and she nay.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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