"He's in the drawing room, listening to us right now. Sitting in the blue chair with its back to the wall, he's waiting for me to join him. I'm sure he has a crystal glass half filled with the Montemorcey wine I bought and left in the pantry for him. He's holding it in his left hand so if, for whatever reason, he has to draw his dagger, he won't need to put the glass down first. He hates to waste Montemorcey. He's swirling it, letting it breathe, and while he's been here for some time, he has yet to taste it. He won't drink until I sit across from him--until I too have a glass." "He suspects you poisoned it?" "No, he hasn't tasted the wine because... well, it would just be rude. He'll have a glass of cider waiting for me, as he knows I no longer drink spirits." "And how do you know all this?" "Because I know him just as I know you. Right now you're fighting an urge to enter the drawing room to see if I'm right. Don't. You'll never come out again, and I don't want you staining my new carpet. Now leave." ~Merrick"