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"Nutmeg?" she asked.

"Is it necessary?"

"No, but it is delightful."

"Then yes."

She rummaged through the cupboards before producing a nutmeg and grating it in. The warm, spiced smell rose.

He lowered himself carefully onto a stool at the worktable. She set the cup in front of him and hopped onto the stool across from him, curling her bare feet around the rung, and took up her own chocolate with both hands.

He took a sip, and the posset warmed him all the way down. For a moment they sat in silence, each enjoying their drink.

"I... um..." Temperance cleared her throat, visibly uncomfortable. "I thought about our deal, and I have come up with another term of my own."

Sutton paused with the cup halfway to his mouth. "Oh?"

"I was thinking that, while I am here, until I am with child, perhaps we could... What if we tried to get to know each other anew?"

He put the cup down on the worktable. "Anew?"

"Yes. We shall not speak of the hurtful past. We shall behave as though we have only just met and discover each other afresh. I am certain you have changed in seven years. I definitely have." She paused, her eyes roaming his face. "You've changed physically, certainly. You have a beard, for one."

A side of Sutton's mouth kicked up in a smile. "That's the main thing that changed."

She chuckled. "Well, I'd like to learn more. It would be nice to learn at least one new thing about each other that is not tainted by the bitterness of our past."

Sutton turned the idea over in his mind. It was a dangerous one. He had set the terms himself, and every one of them had been built to keep her at arm's length, because knowing her was exactly what he could not afford. When he returned his gaze to his wife, he realized she had been watching him with something akin to hope glinting in her eyes.

He had no armor against that.

"I do not see why not."

She grinned. "Well, you've already learned a few things about me: that I can make chocolate and a posset, ride astride, and sew wounds. It's your turn to share something about yourself."

He nodded, considering what he could share. "I'm quite a boring person compared to you."

She sputtered a laugh. "Oh, I very much doubt it."

"No, it's true. Most of my adventures were the result of my trying to tame my friends' adventurous spirits."

"Such as?" She leaned forward in curiosity.

"Well, my friend Tyrone—whom society has nicknamed the Mad Duke⁠—"

"Oh, this sounds quite exciting already."

His mouth quirked. "He used to have a propensity for drink, and as a result, for mad wagers."

"What kinds of wagers?"

"One time he wagered he could sail on a yacht to the North Pole."

Temperance gasped and leaned even closer. "Did he?"

"No." Sutton chuckled. "The trip ended prematurely because he got in a fight with a local watchman in... um... on one of the stops."

He was about to say "in Norway" and stopped short.