“Fine,” he replied automatically, though they both knew it wasn’t true.
Ellie nodded to Edie with a warm smile before turning toward Sadie and settling into the chair Edie had vacated.
“Right then, you must be Sadie,” she continued, setting her bag on the table. “I’m Ellie, Corbyn’s infinitely more charming younger sister.”
He noted how Sadie’s eyes became more focused as Ellie went about her work. His sister pulled on a pair of gloves before untying the scarf around Sadie’s neck and carefully unwrapping the bandage. Sometimes it still caught him by surprise to see his baby sister, who had tormented him growing up, slip into this role of gentle caretaker.
Sadie’s lips quirked, and he saw the start of a smirk tugging at her lips when she responded, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You as well, although I had hoped it would be under better circumstances. I hear you managed to drag my brother into this century,” Ellie quipped. She glanced up at Corbyn with mock amazement before adding, “I didn’t think it was possible. What sort of trickery did you use?”
“Sheer will,” Sadie replied, and Corbyn was relieved to hear a hint of her usual dry humor returning. “I out stubborned him.”
“Well, Corbie has always been unable to resist a good battle of wills,” Ellie said with a grin, as she started examining the injury. “The good news is this looks like a clean cut, and there doesn’tappear to be any major internal damage. I can remove the glass and get you stitched up. It could have been much worse; you got lucky.”
“Lucky,” Sadie repeated with a dry laugh. “Right.”
Ellie’s brow creased as she processed Sadie’s bitter tone, her eyes flicking briefly to Corbyn. Her gaze was questioning, but he could see her putting together pieces—the late-night call, Sadie’s injury, the apparent tension in the room.
“Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.” Ellie turned to Corbyn, asking, “Fetch me that lamp from the sitting room? I need better light.”
Corbyn hurried off, Riley at his heels. When he returned, Ellie was preparing a local anesthetic, chatting easily with Sadie, who seemed to be slowly coming back to the present. Her eyes were sharper, a small smile ghosting across her mouth, and for that alone, Corbyn knew he would put up with any amount of teasing from his sister.
“So tell me truthfully,” Ellie said, positioning the lamp to illuminate her work area, “has my brother been a beast to work with? He gets sulky when his routine’s disrupted.”
“I’m right here,” Corbyn protested, flustered by the sudden shift in conversation.
“Oh, we know,” Ellie replied cheerfully, beginning to clean the wound more thoroughly. “We’re talking about you, not to you. There’s a big difference.”
Sadie actually chuckled at that and when she glanced over at him, his heart rate spiked seeing the tiny smirk that was playing at her lips.
“He’s just… very committed to it,” she admitted, that smirk growing a bit before she turned her gaze back to Ellie.
“That’s the most diplomatic way anyone’s ever described him,” Ellie replied, and she began numbing the area around the cut.“Did he tell you about the time he got stuck in a tree at age twelve trying to rescue a cat that didn’t need rescuing?”
“Ellie,” Corbyn warned, but his sister ignored him completely.
“Fire brigade had to come get him down,” she continued, extracting the piece of glass while she kept Sadie distracted. “The cat, meanwhile, had already climbed down and was having a lovely nap in the garden. He’d been up there for three hours being a hero to no one.”
“That’s… oddly fitting,” Sadie chuckled, and the ache that had been living in Corbyn’s chest for the last hour finally started to ease.
“Isn’t it just?” Ellie agreed, opening a suture kit. “You’ll barely feel this, by the way—just a little pressure.”
Sitting back in his chair, Corbyn could hear Edie bustling about upstairs, likely making sure the room she always referred to as the Blue Room, due to the decor, was ready for Sadie. This time, when she had mentioned having Sadie stay there instead of the usual guest room, he hadn’t argued.
“You know, Sadie,” Ellie said conversationally as she worked, “you’ve been here for weeks and haven’t been to London, have you?”
“Not really,” Sadie admitted. “I’ve been pretty focused on the manuscript.”
“That’s unacceptable!” Ellie declared, glancing pointedly at Corbyn. “Corbie, you should take her to the city. Why not next week? I could remove these stitches at the hospital, and then we could make a day of it.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Sadie said quickly, though Corbyn caught the flicker of interest in her eyes.
“Nonsense,” Ellie replied firmly. “You’ve been cooped up in this village for ages. A change of scenery would do you good. Both of you, actually,” she added with a meaningful look at Corbyn.
He started to object, but one glance at Sadie shut him up. Their relationship had evolved drastically, and part of him felt like a tosser for having kept her practically locked away at the manor. Ellie, despite her tactless approach, was absolutely right.
“We’ll see,” he said finally, which earned him a grin from Ellie, who already knew she had won.
