"You are a cruel taskmaster," groans Hamilton, "a torturer of the keenest kind. I'm not at all sure I'm not the one defiled."

But, belying the dirty talk, he bends and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Theodosia's head. She is so utterly precious and tiny and perfect. He is gone on her completely.

"Are you all right?" he asks, wringing out the cloth in the basin. "Do you hurt, at all? I meant to be much gentler and much... less." Given they have to go on horseback today.