of it, but to lie to us about Mother. Even after she was gone. I just can’t… I need to be away from you for a while.”
Poppy nodded shortly. “Yes.” It was a ghost of sound.
Daisy rose as well. “You would never have stood for such treatment, sister mine.” Golden curls trembled as she shook her head. “And yet you did so to us. Badly done.” Daisy left the room with Miranda and Archer. Ian hesitated for a moment, looking pained, but he gave Poppy a short nod and followed his wife.
Winston moved to call her sisters back and got all the way to the door when he stopped. He had no right to interfere. When he turned back to give Poppy some bit of consolation, she was gone.
Chapter Thirty-six
Winston walked through the house he had shared with Poppy for the past fourteen years. Standing within its walls flooded him with both comfort and pain. He did not know what made him search up rather than down. He’d never gone onto his roof before. Really, why would one? Even so, his steps took him there, steady and sure as he climbed the risers to the attic. The temperature did not rise as he expected but grew distinctly cooler, prickling his skin.
His breath came out in frosty puffs as he reached the top. An icy breeze, unnatural in the late summer evening, blew through the open window at the top of the landing. He crouched down and glanced through it, only to shiver when soft snowfall landed upon his neck. White billows of snow covered the wide ledge that ran along the front of the house and melted just as quickly as it competed against the surrounding summer heat.
Cursing beneath his breath, he eased out of the window and picked his way along. She sat in a small, flat space between windows. Poppy was a tall, strong woman, but seeing her huddled down, she appeared diminished, almost fragile. And it made his heart hurt. Big, feathery flakes of snow fell, covering her bright hair and slim shoulders in a mantle of pure white. He glanced up, fascinated to see where it began, but the murky sky held its secrets.
Obviously sensing him, her shoulders hunched in closer, and her head bent down as if, by avoiding eye contact, he’d somehow not see her. He eased his coat off and sat next to her, ignoring the ice that seeped into his trousers. She did not move as he gently brushed the snow from her shoulders and then put his coat over her. “You’ll freeze out here.”
Poppy shrugged. “I don’t really feel it.” She glanced in his direction, not meeting his eyes. “You ought to take this back before you catch a cold.”
“My gentleman’s sense of honor insists that you wear it. Even if I am the one freezing my arse off.”
A small smile played about the corners of her mouth, as he had hoped, but it did not remain. “I don’t know why I can’t control it anymore.” She scowled down at her hands. “It is irksome in the extreme.”
“Perhaps the baby affects you?” he offered with due caution. Women, he’d heard, were notoriously sensitive about such matters.
But her scowl waned in favor of a short nod. “Perhaps so.” She sighed and then took a deep breath, and with it, the snowfall stopped. “Better?” she asked as she gathered the ends of the coat sleeves into her lap.
He drew his knees up and let his forearms dangle over them. “I don’t know. Are you better?”
The elegant column of her neck moved on a swallow as she glared at sights unseen. “I deserve this,” she said at last. “Every bit of their censure. Of yours.” Her lip wobbled but she bit down on it. “Even so, it wears on me, Win.”
He drew her against his chest, where it was warmer, where she could rest against his heart. He held her tightly as she started to cry, silently at first and then in choking sobs. His Poppy crying. He’d never seen her do it. And it made him angry, made him want to slay dragons for her. Only he’d been one of the fiends who had made her cry.
“Let it out, sweet.” He pressed a fierce kiss to her temple. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”
She wrapped herself around him as a child might. Gently he rocked her, stroking the smooth crown of her head. A sound from the windows had him stiffening. Miranda and