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“You should have gone with him!” Dora hissed as they climbed the stairs. “That is Felix’s notion of an olive branch!”

“I would much rather spend my time with you, than him,” Clem answered with perfect truth. Was he supposed to be so open about his temporary infatuation? he wondered with vague unease. Everything he knew about interacting with women seemed to have gone out the window when it came to his wife. It was unnerving, to say the least.

Would Dora be hurt when he recovered from whatever it was currently afflicting him? He hoped not. With a bit of luck, he could shield her from his indifference when it inevitably kicked in. “What do you do while your brother and lodger smoke and drink claret in the parlor?” he asked, hoping to distract her from the fact he had snubbed her brother’s overtures of friendship.

“I go up to my sitting room as a habit.” She shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“I would have thought, in such a forward-thinking household, you would not have to withdraw from the gentlemen’s company at all.”

Dora paused suddenly on her step, so he halted also behind her. “Do you know, I think that would be the sensible option. But sadly, I have often reflected that my uncle and Felix are only forward-thinking in matters that have no bearing on their own lives.”

“Convenient for them,” Clem remarked dryly.

Dora regarded him with interest. “Would you permit your wife to smoke and drink claret if we lived in our own house?”

Clem had to work hard not to let his expression show how startled he was at such a notion, for he had not meant that at all. “Do you think you would enjoy such masculine pursuits?” he hedged, playing for time.

“Claret or cigars?” Dora asked, starting back up the stairs.

Clem’s eyebrows shot up and he was glad she was no longer facing him. “Either one.”

“Claret is pleasant enough, but the one time I stole one of Uncle’s cigars I was violently unwell afterward.”

He should not be shocked by this, especially considering she fancied herself as a male impersonator. He should not be; however, he was. Rallying, Clem cleared his throat. “That is common for the first time. Persistence is key.”

They had reached the top of the stairs now and Dora pulled a face. “Even the thought of it makes my mouth sour. For the longest time, I could not abide even the smell. Are we going to the sitting room or the bedroom?” she enquired politely, looking from one door to the other.

Clem did not hesitate this time. “Bedroom,” he answered with alacrity. Dora nodded and walked briskly through the door. Clem paused a moment, then walked into the sitting room where he unwrapped the pretty liqueur glasses and, grabbing two, extracted one of the fancy bottles from the cabinet. Only then, did he join Dora in their bedroom.

She had already stripped down to her chemise and drawers and was under the covers awaiting him. He was glad to see she did not look remotely nervous but instead regarded him with interest. “What is that?” she asked.

“This,” Clem said brandishing the bottle, “is a very fine raspberry liqueur made with honey. It is delicious. And these are glasses I bought for the display cabinet in the sitting room.”

“They’re very pretty,” Dora said approvingly.

“Hopefully,” Clem said, breaking the seal, “you will like this better than claret. Though, if you do not,” he added considering, “I can always buy us a bottle of that too.”

Dora sat up, plumping the pillows behind her and accepted the glass with thanks, inspecting the hand-painted blue and yellow flower decoration. “They’re even lovelier at close hand,” she observed as Clem set his glass down and removed his cufflinks and jacket.

“I’ll need to take you back to Finch’s this week,” he commented without enthusiasm, unbuttoning his shirt. “You’re due a fitting.”

“Oh good!” Dora exclaimed. “That brings us another step closer to Lil and I’s debut. We had a good practice session today, by the way. I wanted to ask you when we can rehearse at The Eagle and Sun.”

“We can negotiate that later,” Clem answered absently, stripping off his shirt. “Your costume is not even ready yet.”

“Yes, but it does not need to be a dress rehearsal,” Dora pointed out. “This is very nice,” she commented, lifting her glass to show him she had taken a small sip.

“Not too sweet?”

She shook her head. “Though a larger glass of it would likely be too much.” She took another tiny sip and relaxed back onto her pillows with a contented sigh.

Clem stripped down to his long underwear, pulling off his socks before joining her under the covers.

“Are you not going to try your liqueur?” she asked with surprise when he immediately crowded into her.

Clem turned back and grabbed the tiny glass, tossing it down with one gulp. That way he did not have to taste the cloying stuff.

Dora laughed. “You may have to buy some claret, purely for you to take.”