Theirs had been an odd beginning, aye, but it weren’t a bad foundation. Maybe she ought to’ve stayed longer, given him more time to see something in their future beyond what they had.

“One of Baz’s patients brought some ginger biscuits today,” Gemma said to the others. “It’d make a nice close to our evening.”

Everyone agreed. Gemma slipped her arm free of Baz’s and hurried toward the kitchen.

Mrs. Simms was at the house still, it being a day when patients knew they could drop in even late into the evening, but she’d said she didn’t mean to leave the sitting room. So Gemma wasn’t overly concerned about crossing paths with her. Every time the two of them came face-to-face, Gemma felt full sure the nurse was itching to tell her what she thought of her, and that what she thought didn’t come anywhere near approval.

But Baz relied on Mrs. Simms. Gemma’d find a way to be in good mutton with the woman.

Gemma carefully unwrapped the paper from the ginger biscuits and set them right-tight on a platter. Her eye caught a few currant scones on the worktable. That’d elevate the offering. Though it’d be bang-up if she brought a bit of clotted cream and jam. Adding that meant bringing a few little plates and forks. So she added those to the growing heap.

Fortunately, she’d experience and plenty hefting odd and often heavy loads. Still, she took care on her walk back toward the library, not wanting to overturn the platter.

She had not quite reached the open doorway when voices became clear from inside.

“I’ve not been able to sort out the connection between you two,” Elizabeth said. “You care about her, and the two of you are obviously fond of each other, but I don’t sense you are top-over-tail in love with her.”

Gemma paused, unsure how Baz would answer. Explaining the whys of their marriage meant revealing much of her history.

“I am very fond of her,” Baz said. “But ours isn’t the ordinary sort of marriage, certainly not the kind that is celebrated in the Times: ‘Dr. Barnabus Milligan of Finsbury wishes to announce his nuptials to the future Mrs. Gemma Milligan of Southwark in a ceremony performed in secretive haste inside a shabby chapel in Haggerston.’”

“You must’ve been more than fond of her to’ve married her,” Fletcher said. “Or there’s bits to this you ain’t telling us.”

Those “bits” involved her family and their chosen profession—something she’d rather these newfound friends not know.

“That history is not mine to tell in its entirety,” Baz said. “But it can be summarized more or less as she was in a tough spot, and there wasn’t anyone else willing to help her.”