“You have the look of a deer caught by a poacher,” Simon said as he came to rest by his side.
“I feel more like the deer who knows the poacher is near and can’t sight him.”
Morna joined them and offered Sin a small cake. “‘Tis tradition for the groom to eat it.”
Sin took it from her hand. “Thank you, milady.”
She blushed and ambled off.
Simon leaned over. “That smells delicious.”
Sin smiled. “You and your stomach, Simon. I swear, one day your gluttony shall be the death of you.”
Callie came up and took him by the hand. “Come, my Lord Ogre, I want a dance with you.”
Sin handed the cake over to Simon and followed after his lady.
Callie was amazed at how well Sin danced. In all honesty, she’d expected him to protest or tell her he didn’t know how, but that was far from the case. The man was a wondrous dancer. “I thought you said you never danced.”
“I haven’t before, but I’ve watched others enough to know.” As she twirled around behind him, she raised up on her toes and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.
The look on his face made her laugh as a cheer went up through the crowd.
“You are an amazing woman,” he breathed.
“Not hardly, my lord, but I’m glad you think so.”
When the song ended, they left the floor. Morna handed Callie her bride’s cake.
Callie turned to him. “We’re supposed to eat them together. Did you eat yours already?”
He indicated Simon with his thumb. “I gave it to Simon, but I’m sure it’s gone already.”
“It’s supposed to be good luck to eat them together.”
Morna clucked her tongue at Sin. “It’s supposed to guarantee fertility. A child for every poppy seed the two of you consume.”
He passed a wicked smile to Callie, not believing the superstition in the least. Still, he wouldn’t insult the woman who had been kind to him. “Well in that case, I’d best go claim it then.” He winked at his wife.
Sin crossed the hall and it was only then he saw Simon looking a little pale. “Is something wrong?”
Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I can’t breathe.”
Sin heard Jamie yell that one of the hounds was ill. The dog limped to the center of the hall and collapsed.
Sin’s heart stilled. “Simon, did you feed anything to one of the hounds?”
“The cake,” he said, his voice ragged. “It didn’t taste good so I gave some to the dog.”
“Poison.” Sin narrowed his eyes on Callie. “Fetch me a purgative.”
He grabbed Simon’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, then headed for the stairs. “We have to get you upstairs before anymore of the poison gets through your body.”
Simon stumbled so much that finally Sin picked him up and carried him like a babe.
To his amazement, Simon didn’t argue. That, more than anything, told him the severity of his friend’s illness.
By the time they reached his room, Simon was trembling and sweating sheets of perspiration.
