Lachlan sat quietly, and her hands went to the ties of his trews.
“May I?” she asked, her cheeks coloring slightly.
“Aye.”
She worked the laces carefully, her fingers trembling slightly as she eased the fabric away from the wound.
Lachlan hissed when the dried blood pulled.
“Sorry,” Marian murmured, pausing.
“Daenae be. Just… do what ye need to do.”
She nodded and continued, dampening the fabric before pulling it away as gently as she could.
The wound was uglier than he’d thought—a deep gash across his thigh that had bled more than he’d realized.
Marian’s face paled.
“This is bad, Lachlan,” she said quietly. “You should have had this tended to immediately.”
“I had more important things to worry about,” he reminded her.
“You could have bled to death.” Her voice rose slightly with worry.
His hand found her chin, holding it gently. “I am fine, Marian.” His voice was firm, unlike his touch. “Ye’re the one who nearly died today, nae me.”
Her chin lifted. “You’re not fine,” she insisted stubbornly. “You’re bleeding, and you’ve been walking on this leg. Despite?—”
Lachlan cut her off with a kiss.
It was a short, gentle kiss, meant to stop her worry from spiraling. But she leaned in closer, softening until the damp cloth slipped out of her hand into the basin.
Eventually, she pulled back, her lips parted in surprise.
Lachlan’s mouth curved as she looked away. “Trust me, lass,” he said quietly. “I’ve had far worse than this.”
She did not look at him. Instead, she shook her head with a small, exasperated smile. “You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“Aye,” he agreed. “But ye like me anyway.”
Her smile widened just slightly. “Unfortunately.”
She turned her attention back to his leg, wringing the cloth again. Then she began to clean the wound.
“Where did ye learn to tend wounds?” he asked.
“I didn’t, really,” Marian replied, not looking up. “My father had an accident once, when I was little. He fell from his horse. The physician showed me how to clean and bandage his superficial wounds while he worked on the more serious ones.”
“And ye remember it?”
“I remember everything about my father,” she said softly.
Lachlan’s chest tightened. He remembered everything about his mother, too. And now, for the first time in a long while, he remembered some of the good moments before she had left.
“Me maither used to tend to me faither’s men before she left,” he revealed, lowering his gaze.
Marian slowed before placing the cloth in the basin and turning her attention to him.
