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solace. He had crushed and banished that delusion long ago.
    She opened up his other bandage, and gasped as she saw the blood that had already soaked the cloth.
    “I am sorry for this,” she said. “I never meant for you to be hurt.”
    He cocked a chiding brow at her. “Might I point out, milady, that when one picks up a sword in offense or defense, it can pretty much be determined that someone will get hurt.”
    That rose blush returned to her cheeks as she reached for her needle. “This needs to be stitched.”
    “It will heal on its own.”
    “It will leave a scar.”
    Sin looked down at the multitude of scars marring his bare chest and arms. “Think you it matters?”
    Callie looked up at his words. Even now she couldn’t read the emotions buried in those deep, darkeyes. What agony he must have suffered, to be able to shield himself so completely.
    Normally she could read even the most careful of souls. But this man was a complete enigma to her.
    “It matters to me,” she said, wondering why it was so. Yet it was.
    As gently as she could, she made four short, tiny stitches in his arm. It amazed her that he didn’t cry out or tense. It was almost as if he didn’t even feel what she was doing; but then, given the severity of some of his larger scars, she could deduce he had been hurt so much that this tiny wound meant nothing to him.
    But it meant a lot to her conscience, for she had never been one to cause pain in others. Though her father had been a mighty warrior, her mother had been a healer, and it was her mother’s love of life to which she subscribed.
    She cut a fresh bandage from the linen and wrapped it over her stitchery.
    Lord Sin remained silent as she worked, and yet she could feel his eyes on her. Searching.
    There was something different about this man, though she couldn’t say what. And it wasn’t just the fact that he seemed to delight in making people fear him.
    He’s the devil’s own , Aelfa’s voice whispered in her ear. They say he has murdered over one hundred people just for the pleasure of it, and killed thousands more in battle. When he was first brought to court, he was wearing the robes of a heathen and spoke in tongues no one knew .
    They say he sold his soul to the devil to make him invincible .
    Callie didn’t know how much of that was true, but from the looks of his body, she would say he was far from invincible.
    Even so, he possessed a strength and power that was undeniable. Never had she seen his equal.
    For the first time in her life, she felt herself drawn toward an Englishman.
    What are you thinking ?
    She blinked. Indeed, what was she thinking? She was the daughter of a laird who had spent his entire life trying to rid their precious lands of the English! Her father had died while fighting them, and she would never betray his memory.
    Looking at Lord Sin’s chest, Callie wondered how many of the scars on his body he had received while fighting her own race. And how many of those thousands killed in battle had been Scots?
    “There,” she said as she finished wrapping his arm.
    Sin frowned at the sudden veil that came over her face. He didn’t know what thought had descended, but he grieved the way it had robbed her of her serenity.
    She gathered her supplies, mumbled a good-bye and quickly left the room.
    His frown deepened. He should be thrilled she had finally gone, and yet…
    Why, all of a sudden, did the room seem colder?
    Shaking his head, he banned the thought. He had more important things to do than to dwell on a woman who wasn’t his concern.
    Henry would just have to find another of his men to marry her.
     
    The next morning, Sin had finally succeeded in pushing the wench from his thoughts.
    Of course, it had taken a cold bath to help and he had spent an agonizing night tormented by dreams of rose-red lips and sweet green eyes.
    After he broke his fast, he stubbed his toe so severely he feared the digit broken. The pain of it had driven the woman right