Arthur saw Miriam's hand coming from a mile away, and that was the only thing that saved him from flinching away from her touch.

Where her hand was laid only slightly to the side of his and Malachi's name, carved into his chest.  How would she react if she saw it, he wondered.  Would she even recognize it for what it was?

"Oh," came his genuine reaction to her - stunning forwardness.  Truly, she had no shame at all.

The worst part of it all was how Arthur's face still colored in embarrassment, even as his soul shriveled up inside of him.

"Mrs. Brennan, um - I believe we are here for the night again, yes, but - when I said you had your choice of the men in London I did not mean, ah, myself.  As - regretful as I might be to turn you away."

His hand came up to rest over hers, but he did not move it away.  Instead, he looked up and down her dress again, allowing his eyes to linger on her cinched waist.

"And regretful I am indeed, ma'am."