He did not like the feeling that came over him upon seeing the hurt in her eyes. Bollocks to that. “One sister creates fire, the other moves the earth.” Winston stared at Poppy. “And the eldest? What can she do?”
Poppy did not answer.
“You froze the boat in the water, didn’t you?” Even as he said the words, part of him marveled at the notion. Such power living and breathing within his wife’s body. Had he not seen it happen, he wouldn’t have believed it.
Poppy’s expression remained implacable. “Yes.”
“Show me.”
“Why? I’ve already admitted it.” A hint of sarcasm laced her words. “I’m not a bloody parlor trick, you know.”
His muscles tightened as he held himself still. “You are stalling. Rather badly at that.”
She scowled. Winston began to speak when a blast of icy air hit him in the face and burned down his throat. Like before, the sound of ice crackling filled the room. A white web of frost covered the trunk nearest his wife. Ice crawled in a line over the floor toward his shoes.
Winston’s heart leapt, a mixture of natural fear and outright wonder grabbing hold of him. In a blink of an eye, the deathly cold breeze stopped. Even so, his breath came out in visible puffs as he stared at her.
Demurely, Poppy clasped her hands before her and raised her eyes to his. “Will that do, husband?”
Impudent woman. He almost laughed. Until the thought came over him that she could freeze him where he stood. And she was on this boat to protect him from some threat. Hell. It did not matter if she could readily defend herself. She was his wife, which meant it was his duty to lay down his life to protect her. He’d say it was his right, but the uncomfortable truth that he’d walked out on her kept him from shouting that to the tops of the mainmast.
“How does it work? Your power.”
She smiled a little, as if expecting the question. Then she well knew his curiosity was endless.
“I do not know, not the science of it at any rate. I can only tell you that I can freeze or unfreeze water. I need to be touching the object with my hand to freeze it.”
“A sort of reverse conductivity.” She was bloody marvelous.
“Yes. However, I do not feel heat or cold while I am setting the power free.” Her gaze wandered to the porthole where the ocean canvassed behind him. “And if there is open water about, I am able to draw it to me and freeze it at will. Lastly, there is a cost for using my power.” She let go of a tiny sigh. “The more power I draw, the more physically drained I am afterward.”
“Then don’t use it.”
When her gaze flew to his, he took a step closer to her and cupped her smooth cheek. “I mean it, Boadicea. Do not use it.” He gentled his tone, when he’d rather shout, and ran a thumb along her soft bottom lip. “Do not think to fight this thing. Not for me.”
Again came that little smile, an expression that held equal parts amusement and resignation. “You didn’t really expect me to agree, did you?” She shook her head, as if to say silly man, and his world turned red. He could barely hear her next words past the rage rushing through his ears. “Perhaps in other instances I might fall for the seduction of that smoke and silk voice, Win. But not in this.”
Poppy took herself off to the dressing room. Her dress was filthy and her hair a bedraggled mess. Never mind that her husband loomed before her with a preternatural calm that spoke of imminent disaster, for she did not trust that look in his eyes. Unfortunately, Win followed. Stubborn man.
His low, smoky voice disrupted her peace just as she was undoing her hair.
“That night Archer stitched me up,” he said, “and you held me down when I screamed. How did it make you feel?”
Oh, but he played dirty. She looked up to find him propped against the doorjamb of the dressing room. He hadn’t removed his suit coat or bowler, and the faint scent of sea air clung to him.
“It was the worst night of my life,” she whispered. “I wanted to scream too. I wanted to kill the bastard who hurt you with my bare hands.”
His gaze held hers. “And yet you dismiss me for feeling the same helpless rage over the idea