“Kev,” Win said calmly, stepping forward, “I would like to talk to you about something.”Merripen, attentive as always to his wife, gave her a frowning glance. “Now?”"Yes, now.”"Can’t it wait?”"No,” Win said equably. At his continued hesitation, she said, “I’m expecting.”Merripen blinked. “Expecting what?”"A baby.”They all watched as Merripen’s face turned ashen. “But how ...” he asked dazedly, nearly staggering as he headed to Win."How?” Leo repeated. “Merripen, don’t you remember that special talk we had before your wedding night?” He grinned as Merripen gave him a warning glance. Bending to Win’s ear, Leo murmured, “Well done. But what are you going to tell him when he discovers it was only a ploy?”"It’s not a ploy,” Win said cheerfully.Leo’s smile vanished, and he clapped a hand to his forehead. “Christ,” he muttered. “Where’s my brandy?” And he disappeared into the house."I’m sure he meant to say ‘congratulations,’ ” Beatrix remarked brightly, following the group as they all went inside.”

“You were never one to moon over handsome boys, or talk about balls and parties, or dream about your future husband.”“That was because of Merripen,” Win admitted. “He was all I ever wanted.”

“Amelia told me once about a suspicion she'd had for a while. It bothered her quite a bit. She said that Win and I had fallen ill with scarlet fever, and you made the deadly nightshade syrup, you'd concocted far more than was necessary. And you kept a cup on it on Win's nightstand, like some sort of macabre nightcap. Amelia said that if Win had died, she thought you would have taken the rest of that poison. And I've always hated you for that. Because you forced me to stay alive without the woman I loved, while you had no bloody hell intention of doing the same."Merripen didn't answer, gave no sign that he registered Leo's words."Christ, man," Leo said huskily. "If you had the bollocks to die with her, don't you think you could work up the courage to live with her?”

“A wager?" I repeated."Yes," he said, and gave me a slow smile, bright with challenge. ..."Stake?" I asked cautiously. He was still smiling, an odd sort of smile, hard to define."A kiss." My first reaction was outrage, but then I remembered that I was on my way to Court, and that had to be the kind of thing they did at Court. And if I win I don't have to collect. I hesitated only a moment longer, lured by the thought of open sky, and speed, and winning."Done," I said.”

“He was all but shouting, stalking toward her. He grabbed her arms and gave her a little shake. "This time, the bastards don't win. I win.""What do you win?" she whispered.He bent his head and crushed his lips to hers.”

“I don’t want to be a widow, I don’t want Michael Bayning, and I don’t want you to joke about such things, you tactless clodpole!”As all three of them stared at her openmouthed, Poppy leapt up and stalked away, her hands drawn into fists.Bewildered by the immediate force of her fury—it was like being stung by a butterfly—Harry stared after her dumbly. After a moment, he asked the first coherent thought that came to him. “Did she just say she doesn’t want Bayning?”“Yes,” Win said, a smile hovering on her lips. “That’s what she said. Go after her, Harry.”Every cell in Harry’s body longed to comply. Except that he had the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff, with one ill-chosen word likely to send him over. He gave Poppy’s sister a desperate glance. “What should I say?”“Be honest with her about your feelings,” Win suggested.A frown settled on Harry’s face as he considered that. “What’s my second option?”