Page 78 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

“Don’t take any risks. And you talk to me when you’re done.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Peter took a moment to clap the young man on the shoulder. He was sturdier than he looked, and unlike Ash, he was dressed like a local. Spoke like one, too. “No risks,” he said as he pressed a coin into the boy’s hand. “Be extra careful.”

Robin nodded, then Peter climbed into the carriage and settled next to Mari. The footman disappeared into the mists while Ash knocked on the wall to signal the coachman.

“Where are we headed?” Peter asked as he pulled Mari tight against his side. She didn’t resist, which had him smiling in the darkness.

“I gave him directions to Miss Powel’s residence.”

“No!” she cried. “I still have questions, and you, sir”—she poked a sharp finger into Peter’s ribs—“have promised me answers.”

He grabbed her pointy finger and wrapped his hand around hers. Then he drew it to his lips for a gentle kiss. He did this because he needed to touch her, but also because he needed time to think. Unfortunately, she was not going to give it to him.

“I risked a great deal tonight—”

“I know,” he growled.

“And I did it so we could have our conversation. I cannot marry a man who has no focus.”

He dropped his head back against the squabs and took a deep breath, but it was Ash who answered for him.

“You don’t understand him, Miss Powel.” His voice was soft, and he was the most serious he’d been since…well, since ever. “Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? Peter sees things. He doesn’t talk about them. Doesn’t prance about. He just sees things and—”

“And I build things,” he interrupted. “Solid foundation, first.”

“—he takes care of what he wants.”

Mari huffed out a breath, lifting her free hand in a gesture of frustration. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

“It means I want you, Mari,” Peter answered. “It means I want to marry you.”

“And do what?”

Make love to her nonstop for weeks. Plant his children inside her. Grow old beside her. Look at her face, argue about nonsense, hold her tight when things got difficult, and then kiss her senseless whenever she wanted. All of those thoughts, plus a thousand more, flew through his head, but none of them made it out of his mouth. They got jammed somewhere in his throat. At least until Ash kicked him hard in the shin.

“Hey!” he cried.

“Jesus, Peter, the one thing you never figured out is that women need to be talked with. You’ve got to tell her everything. More than what you share with me.”

He knew that. Damn it, he knew! “It’s not so easy to put into words.”

Ash sighed. It was a sad sound and painful to hear.

“Miss Powel—Mari—are you determined on this course?” Ash asked. “On him?”

She pulled herself slightly away from Peter. “I’m determined to make him explain.”

“Very well.” Ash rapped on the hackney and called out a new destination. One that was unknown to Peter.

“Where are you taking us?”

“To a place where Miss Powel will accompany me.” Peter stiffened, ready to argue, but Ash spoke right over him. “It’s an apothecary. She will come in with me and I will have my say.” He swallowed. “And then, if she wishes it, I shall return her to you.”

He meant to plead his case with her, to beg her to marry him. If it were anyone else, Peter would deny it. Or he would try. But Ash was his oldest friend. More than that, he was an honorable man who would make an excellent husband. And Mari deserved the choice.

And so, much though it went against his grain, he nodded. “Make sure you get something for your pain.” Ash didn’t appear to have serious injuries, but he would ache for many days. A careful amount of laudanum would help significantly as he healed.