Chapter 23 March 4, 2025
-Corbyn-
Corbyn couldn’t sit still. He paced the length of the kitchen, glancing at his watch again and again.
Nearly an hour had passed since the inn incident, and the panic he’d stifled for Sadie’s sake threatened to boil over.
His left hand trembled in his pocket, every tick of the clock tightening something in his chest.
At the kitchen table, Edie sat beside Sadie, gently coaxing her to drink the tea she’d prepared.
Sadie held the mug in one hand, occasionally drinking when told, but she mostly stared down at the steaming liquid.
Her face was pale, features drawn with tension, and she’d barely spoken since they’d arrived at the manor.
She was in shock, and he hated feeling helpless.
“Steady now, love,” Edie murmured, her voice carrying the same tone she’d used when Corbyn and Ellie were children with scraped knees. “Sugar helps with the adrenaline crash, dear. My gran always swore by it.”
Sadie managed a slight nod, taking another sip. Her eyes remained distant and unfocused, sending another wave of worry through Corbyn’s mind.
“You’re making me nervous with all that pacing, lad,” Edie said, casting him a concerned look. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and fetch some biscuits from the pantry? They’re on the second shelf.”
Grateful for an excuse to do something, Corbyn nodded and slipped to the pantry. His hands shook so badly he nearly dropped the tin. Riley padded over and pressed against Corbyn’s legs, warm fur a comforting anchor.
“Good boy,” Corbyn murmured, running his hand through the dog’s wiry coat. The familiar gesture helped steady him, though his mind kept replaying the scene at the inn, and Sadie’s terrified face as she looked up at him.
He returned with the tin, setting it on the table while trying to keep his hand from causing it to rattle.
The sight of Sadie there, looking hollow, arm still in a makeshift sling, and her sleeve cut away to reveal a stark white bandage, sent his chest into a fresh spasm of guilt and protectiveness.
“There we are, love,” Edie said softly, opening the tin and handing a biscuit to Sadie. “Try to eat something.”
“Thank you,” Sadie said quietly, taking the biscuit but not biting into it.
Edie patted her shoulder, soothing, “Nothing to thank me for. We look after our own here.”
The words sent a fierce, unfamiliar rush of heat through Corbyn’s chest. Our own. When was the exact moment Sadie became that? When had she stopped being merely his editor and become someone this household would protect? Someone they considered part of their little family?
Car headlights swept across the kitchen window, and Riley’s ears perked up. Corbyn felt his shoulders drop, and he took a deep breath for the first time since Maggie’s phone call.
“That’ll be Ellie now,” Edie said, rising from her chair. “She’ll set you right, don’t you worry.”
The door opened to reveal Ellie, with her dark hair in a ponytail and a medical bag slung over her shoulder. She was wearing jeans and a thick jumper beneath her winter coat, the lack of scrubs suggesting she had not been at work. She took in the scene, eyes sweeping quickly around the room.
“Evening, all,” she said, shrugging out of her coat and draping it over a chair. She gave Corbyn’s arm a quick squeeze as she passed. “How are we holding up, Corbie?”
“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’t appear 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.
“There we are,” she announced, applying antibiotic ointment to the neat row of stitches before rebandaging it. “Keep it dry for the next few days, and it should heal beautifully.”
Sadie glanced down at her arm, eyes fixed on the bandage as she said, “I can’t thank you enough for coming out so late.”
“Think nothing of it,” Ellie replied, removing her gloves and beginning to pack up her supplies. “Anyone important to Corbie is important to all of us.”
Shaking his head, Corbyn stood with an exasperated sigh, and grumbled, “Stop calling me that, Eleanor.”
“Don’t you two start with that nonsense,” Edie interjected with exasperation from the bottom of the stairs before turning her attention to Sadie. “Let’s get you settled upstairs, love. You’ve had quite enough excitement for one evening.”
As the two women fussed over Sadie, helping her to her feet and gathering supplies for her injured arm, Corbyn found himself watching from the periphery.
There was something about watching Ellie and Edie, the two women who had stuck by him through everything, tend to her.
The aching knot in his chest loosened, allowing him to take a full breath.
“I’ve put you in the Blue Room,” Edie was saying as their voices faded up the staircase, Riley padding up the stairs behind them. “It’s just down the hall from Corbyn’s room, so if you need anything in the night…”