“A few meat pies in my satchel.” And that did not sound at all like a double entendre. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps you ought to pace yourself? Not devour all and sundry in one sitting?”
Her warrior’s brows snapped together, and her hand shot out. “Hand them over, Lane.”
He laughed, because he could not hold it back, and then gave her the food, because he was not a complete fool. When she had settled back with her feast, he took hold of her legs and propped them on his lap. She squeaked in protest, and he gave her shin a light slap.
“Hush.” His fingers went to the tight laces of her half-boots. “I’ve also been informed that a lady’s feet may swell and become pained.”
She shifted, finding a more comfortable position, and then regarded him with amusement. “I do not believe that occurs until I am a bit larger. However, I shall not complain.” She took a bite of pie. “Wouldn’t want to injure your tender feelings, after all.”
“Gracious girl.” He eased one boot off, noting her small noise of pleasure, before moving to take off the other boot. “Why did you not use your power on the undead we fought?” He had been wanting to ask, yet oddly had not been quite ready for the answer.
When she spoke, her words were measured. “The undead are magically manipulated, which means the rules of nature do not apply to them. At any rate, the degree of cold I would have needed to freeze bodies so large would have hurt you more than them.” She shrugged and broke off a crumpling edge of the pastry. “Sometimes it is more practical to simply fight hand to hand.”
Indeed. He kept his eyes upon his work as he dug his thumbs along the bottom of her foot. She sighed, the sound zinging through him, but the tension did not ease along her leg.
Poppy’s voice was soft as it drifted across to him. “I knew it would bother you.”
When he wrenched his head up, he found her blinking down at her clenched hands. A sad smile played about her lips. “I understand that a man wants to be the protector, to know that he can keep his wife from harm. What man in his right mind would want a woman who can freeze him solid with a thought?” She laughed weakly. “Who is versed in multiple weaponry and proficient in six forms of physical combat?”
Six forms? Hell, Archer and Ian had only taught him four. He looked down at his hands gripping Poppy’s narrow foot. They were strong, capable hands. He’d just beheaded two undead thugs, though he took no pleasure from it. If he were honest with himself, he’d rather best a man with knowledge, not tear him apart. Still, as normal men went, he could easily hold his own on the physical field. Unfortunately, normal had long since left the station.
Poppy was silent. Then she swallowed audibly. “Part of me was happy to keep it all from you.”
“Because you did not want to offend my manly pride?” He said it lightly, though the idea that she believed he was so small-minded bothered him.
Her dark eyes found him. “Because I didn’t want you to stop looking at me as a woman. As a wife who needed you.”
The carriage shuddered over a rut as he absorbed her words. Win cleared his throat, and it sounded overly loud in the space between them. “When we did battle against those undead, with your back to mine, each of us moving as one, I did not feel diminished. I felt alive.” He stared at her, and his blood heated again. “I think you are magnificent, Poppy Lane.”
“When I am in my twilight, and in a fit of ennui, I shall have a house party just like this,” said Poppy. They strolled arm in arm, the picture of a content couple, along the stunning gardens of Farleigh. Hundreds of butterflies dotted the air, fluttering to and fro. Win did not know how Mrs. Noble’s staff had managed to collect so many live specimens, but it made quite the picture. At present, he and Poppy wandered beneath an arbor hung with a profusion of blush pink roses that sweetened the air with their scent.
It had been fairly easy to pose as Mr. and Mrs. Snow, he a retired inspector turned prosperous wine merchant. Between the two of them, they knew enough about Hector Ellis’s old business practices to speak proficiently on