His brows lifted and immediately, she knew she had erred.
"Mr Brand, I…" She faltered.
"You commanded me?"
He returned the glass, and she took it, mindedly keeping her hand far from his. "Your words bother on the line of treason."
"I… uh…"
"It is nothing." He waved with a smile, then winced.
Her alarm was immediate. "Are you in pain?"
He shook his head. "Only distressed. Though perhaps not as much as you were, sewing my wound."
Her eyes fell to his wound now hidden under a shirt. "You have been immaculately kind to me, sir. Tending to you does not accord enough with your kindness."
"Wesley said your craftsmanship is impeccable." His gaze sharpened with interest. "Tell me, do you sew often?"
Sew often? Was he speaking of dresses, or of flesh?
"I am no nurse. I have only ever tended to Ferdinard."
"Ferdinard?"
The poor thing, having to suffer the ill-temper of her in-laws.
