Elain's face heated at the question.
Seeing that she had gone still, the man's brow lifted, his eyes glinting with mischief. "What are we waiting for?"
"It is inappropriate for you to undress in front of a lady, and I do not think it is necessary," she said, trying to keep her expression composed, as though what he had asked was not scandalous to her ears.
He didn't respond, but she felt as though his silver eyes were taunting her.
"After all, it is only your shoulder that is wounded," she added, glancing at the tear in his shirt.
She took a pair of scissors from a nearby cabinet and asked, "Would you mind if I cut your shirt around the wound?"
"You will not let me take off my shirt, yet you would cut it? It is a limited edition from Frans Edby's."
Frans Edby's? Elain nearly dropped the scissors. That was the most famous shop in Sunken Ray, the shopping district in the city where the wealthiest of the upper class frequented. Even her aunt, a viscount's wife, did not shop there often due to the exorbitant prices.
Imagining how much the man's shirt must have cost, her face paled. Was he perhaps from the upper towns?
She looked at him, frowning. Was he suggesting she should compromise for him because of his expensive clothing? She was the one offering help.
"There is already a tear. Surely, you will not mind a little more damage, especially if you have many such shirts in your wardrobe."
"What if it is the only decent shirt I own? It would be quite the loss, wouldn't it?"
She frowned, unsure of how to respond.
He smirked, still looking up at her. As if deciding she was not worth further teasing, he said, "Suit yourself, then."
Elain sighed and stepped closer to his chair, standing in front of him. She averted her gaze from his eyes, trying to focus on the wound. Being in such close proximity to a stranger had not been in her plans tonight.
As she crouched, she caught his scent. A mixture of rain and a subtle, masculine fragrance. A part of her wanted to lean closer to breathe it in, while another urged her to stop breathing altogether, lest it distract her further.
Her fingertips were cold as she carefully cut away the fabric around his wound. She moved lightly, cautious not to press against his skin.
Once she had made an opening in the shirt, she saw a five-inch cut, which made her frown. Thankfully, it was not too deep, though it still bled and needed tending.
She began cleaning it with the damp cloth, dabbing gently at his skin.
"I am sorry if it stings," she said.
"Nothing a man cannot bear."
"If I may ask, what business did you have here in the countryside?" Elain meant to ask what had caused his injury, but she did not wish to sound overly inquisitive.
"I was visiting a friend."
She glanced at him, her eyes asking what her lips did not—If it were a friend, how did you come to be injured?
There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that suggested the person he visited was not a friend at all. She was curious, but she dared not press further, fearing she would not like the answer.
The stranger looked intimidating… and, if she were honest, dangerous.
"Inviting a stranger when you are alone in a house… hm, is that not inviting trouble?" he said as she applied the disinfectant.
She was crouching, focused on his wound, her face only inches from his, especially as he angled his head towards her. She could feel his breath against her skin.
"This is not my house," she replied, and immediately felt foolish. She knew that was not the point.
"But you are here and alone, yes?"
"I had company not long ago."
He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to catch her gaze, but she kept her eyes fixed on the wound.
"But you were left alone. Do you not know how dangerous it is to open your door to a stranger, especially at night, in a place like this? I commend your parents for not imparting such an important lesson."
"First of all, my parents are long gone," she snapped, finally looking at him, her brows drawn in irritation. She did not like the sarcasm in his tone when he spoke of them. "And second, what is the point of telling me this now? You were bleeding, sir, and had I not opened the door, how could I have left you out there in the cold, wounded?"
She did not understand why he was pressing this matter when he was the stranger who had asked for shelter. Would he rather she had left him outside?
"A wounded stranger in need of help, isn't that a perfect excuse to gain entry into a vulnerable lady's house?"
Elain stilled. A shiver ran down her spine at his words and the coldness beneath them.
She lifted her gaze to meet his, her lips parting slightly as though the air had been knocked from her lungs, and breathing through her nose was no longer enough.
The few lit candles cast light upon half of his face, leaving the other half in shadow. It made his features appear sharper, almost lethal in a way that made her feel that being this close to him could hurt her, as though he were a rose with poisonous thorns.
In a low voice, barely more than a whisper, Elain dared to ask,
"Is that your way of telling me you are not a good man?"