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Quite remarkable how he’d mended, Master Graves had said, considering how battered and close to death Malcolm had been only a fortnight earlier. The Welsh physician had then nodded his head thoughtfully and given the Highlander an emollient to speed the healing of the jagged scars on his chest. Sending his apprentice out ahead of him, Graves had stopped to ask Malcolm if he needed any questions answered.
Malcolm had simply shaken his head. He did not think the physician knew how to ease wounds of the heart.
So, with a kindly nod of the head, the older man had left him. It was only a short time later that Malcolm had spotted the letter on the floor near the entrance of the bedchamber.
Pulling on his shirt, the Highlander crossed the room and picked up the letter.
“...and various lad
