The creamy, rich flavor of the quiche fills Evan's mouth. He's surprised to find that he truly enjoys Avery's cooking. She tries to feed him another bite, but he pushes the fork away.

Avery frowns, "I thought you wanted me to feed you."

"If you want to feed my appetites, you can do that later tonight," he whispers.

Disgusted by the innuendo, Avery gets up to look for a bottle of white wine to go with the dinner. Dr. Walters enters the dining room and looks to Evan for approval. Evan nods his permission to approach.

"It's about the drugs—" the doctor whispers.

Evan immediately raises his hand to signal for the doctor to stop speaking and casts a deep look at Avery.

"In the study," he commands.

Avery doesn't hear Dr. Walters' words or see Evan's complicated expression. She assumes they've left in a hurry to attend to some other business.

"Perhaps Evan has forgotten his favorite lighter," she thinks, "He usually enjoys smoking after dinner."

"Where is the wine?" she asks a servant.

All of the cabinets in the room have been emptied of all alcohol.

One hurries to explain, "Mr. Howel says you have to avoid alcohol for a while due to the pregnancy."

"I'm not allowed to drink wine?" she asks, outraged.

"Among other things," the servant answers.

"What other things?"

"Soybeans, caffeine, raw eggs, undercooked meat, raw fish, unpasteurized cheeses, and so on."

Avery can't believe how thorough Evan is. He's determined to get her pregnant. She feels as vulnerable as a deer in the open—any minute Evan will shoot her. Suddenly she realizes she has completely lost her appetite.

She slams the antique liquor cabinet in irritation. The maids have retreated to the corner of the room and she can hear them talking.

"Do you think Lucky will die?" one asks, almost hopefully.

"Hush. Aren't you worried that Mr. Howel will hear you?" scolds the other, "You know how he is with Lucky—he loves that dog. I think it's just some sort of virus—he throws up everything he eats. He's normally so energetic, but now he seems kind of lifeless. Of course, he still won't allow anyone near him."

They look up from their conversation in time to see Avery exiting the dining room. They hurry to chase her, calling her name. She stops and addresses them.

"How is Lucky?" she asks.

"We think he has a virus," says one maid, "He doesn't have much spirit. The vet asked us to fetch something for him to eat, but I don't think he'll touch it."

"Then go ahead," Avery says, "I'll come with you and take a look at him."

"Lucky is ill and unstable," the maid warns nervously, "I'm afraid he'll get violent with you."

Avery ignores them and starts walking to the North wing, where Lucky is kept. She enters the drawing-room that serves as his kennel. The black German Shepherd lies listlessly on the white, fox-fur carpet. Though he's bigger than most German Shepherds, he looks almost too weak to move. In spite of his appearance, he's still vigilant. Whenever someone steps too near him, he shows his sharp teeth and growls to scare them off.

Avery's arrival surprises the servants who normally tend to Lucky. Evan normally doesn't allow anyone to visit his dog, but they don't want to contradict Avery. They step aside and allow her to enter the room.

"Mrs. Howel, Lucky doesn't like strangers," they warn, "Mr. Howel has insisted that no one is allowed to go near him except for us and the vet. You should leave. If anything happens, I don't know who Mr. Howel will blame."

"If anything happens, I'll take responsibility," Avery says, "It's only a dog. Do you have to make this such a big deal?"

The servants gape at Avery. She's never come to this room before, and according to rumor, she's scared of dogs.

Avery stares at Lucky and the dog stares back. He growls low and reveals his teeth. The servants shudder.

"Where is the vet?" Avery asks.

"Lucky bit him pretty badly and he's gone to the hospital. He'll come here after he gets stitches," a servant answers.

"Lucky?" Avery coos while slowly reaching her hands toward his nose, "Can I take a look at you?"

"Mrs. Howel, please be careful. He'll bite," the servants warn, terrified.

Though Avery feels nervous, she's not afraid. She doesn't know why she feared dogs in the past, but she knows she never would have gotten this close to Lucky. She wonders if the poison has erased her fear along with her memory.

Lucky barks and sniffs her hand. He can smell fear and hostility, but his body shakes when he smells Avery's fingertips. His eyes brighten and he lifts his head. His tail thumps the floor.

"Lucky?" Avery asks.

Lucky gets up and rubs his face against her hands. The servants are stunned. They've never seen the dog behave this way with someone who isn't Evan.

"Oh my God, I think Lucky likes you," says one.

"It's unbelievable," says another, "He never lets anyone but Mr. Howel near him. Mr. Howel brought him here ten years ago when he was only a puppy. I've been feeding him since then, but he won't even let me touch him."

"Ten years ago?" Avery asks, "He's ten years old?"

"Yes. Mr. Howel brought him back from Summers' country home and has been taking care of him ever since."

Avery is patting Lucky on the head, but she halts at the mention of the Summers.

"No wonder Evan dotes on this dog: he transfers his affection for Diana to everything related to her family," she thinks with a roll of her eyes, "But if he's so enamored, why won't he let me go? Why does he insist that I have his children?"

Avery scratches Lucky behind his ears as she thinks, "If I don't get pregnant, I can leave the Howels' house in a few short months. Evan can divorce me and marry Diana. It's a win-win. I don't understand what he's thinking."

"There is one other odd thing," says a gossipy servant.

"What?"Avery asks.

"Lucky came from the Summers family, but he won't let Leonie come near him. She's tried, but he always growls at her. She has to keep her distance from him."

Avery listens attentively and suddenly feels something hot and wet on her palms. She looks down and sees that the dog is licking her hands. The next second Lucky jumps up and licks her face. Though he's sick, he's still large and strong and she stumbles backward and falls over.

"Lucky," Avery says sternly.

She tries to push his head away from her face, but he continues licking her. Her palms feel slightly itchy from Lucky's furry head.

"I think it's because you might smell a bit like Mr. Howel," says one servant.

Avery begins to chuckle. Evan has been hugging her and touching her all day to try to start rumors that their relationship is flourishing. He has a distinct smell that clings to everything he touches and owns, even when he's not around.

Suddenly Avery sighs. She's beginning to get used to his smell, and his touch. She can't let herself become accustomed to those things. She's scared that if she lets her guard down, she might fall for him again. A noise outside the door interrupts her thoughts and she jumps to her feet.

"Miss Summers," a servant says, "Please stop."

Leonie pushes past the servant who tries to block her path.

"Avery, you bitch!" she screams.