Emily’s teeth were about to rattle their way out of her head from the roads. She prayed they would not have to travel for much longer. Stephen had suggested the train, but her stomach lurched at the thought. She had no desire to inhale soot while traveling at such an unnatural speed.

In time, the children fell asleep. Victoria’s body had grown slack against Stephen, her fist curled beneath her chin as she drooled upon his shoulder. The nursemaid had offered to take the baby, but Stephen had refused. Emily’s heart softened to see him holding the baby as if the child were his own. For a moment, they seemed like a true family.

“Reach into that valise, won’t you?” he directed Emily. “There’s something inside that I’ve been meaning to give you.”

She located the leather valise and unfastened it. “What am I looking for?” She rummaged around and at last her fingers closed upon a book. “This?”

He nodded. “Open it.”

The small volume was filled with a woman’s handwriting. At first Emily thought it was a diary, but when she read the first entry, delight blossomed inside of her.

“I can’t believe it.” It was a book filled with cooking receipts, everything from currant buns to porridge. “It’s wonderful.” She couldn’t help her smile, didn’t care if he saw how happy the gift had made her.

“It belonged to my grandmother. I had my mother send it to me.”

Emily skimmed through the pages eagerly, laughing when she found a receipt for Apple Jonathan. There were no fresh apples to be had yet, but perhaps she could use dried apples and achieve the same effect. While she read through the book, she noticed Stephen’s leg resting beside hers. The warm heat of him seemed to penetrate her skin like a caress.

The hours passed, and night descended until Emily could no longer read his grandmother’s handwriting. Anna had taken the baby, and in time, both fell asleep with the rocking of the coach. Royce stretched out with his head upon Anna’s lap, his eyes closed while he firmly gripped a tin soldier in one hand.

With everyone else asleep, the interior of the coach grew intimate. Emily was more aware of her husband, of his strong face, his eyes meeting hers with unspoken promises.

Stephen reached out to take her hand. His fingers touched her skin, moving up to cradle her wrist. Though he did nothing more than brush his thumb against the pulse at the base of her hand, the sensation made her breath catch.

“We’ll be stopping at an inn soon,” he whispered in her ear.

Heaven help her, but his suggestion tempted her with the proximity of such close quarters. She imagined pulling his mouth against hers until she felt the secret thrill of his kiss. “I know.”