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“Now Morgan, what is this about a wick-dipping tour?” Duncan mused as they all settled back into their seats, a friendly whiskey now in everyone’s hand.

Morgan’s eyes lit up as the subject came back around, and he tipped his glass toward Ezra.

“Indeed! I have chartered a course and decided that I shall be “dipping” into every port along the way,” he explained, pulling out a folded paper from his jacket pocket.

With a quick unfold, the small paper laid out into a large map with several red circles along the coasts of Europe.

“It will be a masterful play,” Morgan said with gusto, “Andyouare coming with me!”

Ezra was not sure if it was he or his friends who were more surprised at his curt expulsion of laughter, but he rode out his rare display of emotion and gave one of his usual bored shrugs.

“Count me out for this one,” he retorted, returning to his seat behind his desk.

Ambrose and Duncan shared a look while raw disappointment flooded Morgan’s expression.

“Oh, come off it, mate, I know you want to join me! We have not taken a trip like this in ages! And now these two cannot go because they’re “happily married”, so it only leaves you and me. Remember what happened the last time we took a trip like this?”

Ezra smirked, recalling it vividly.

“The courtesan in Venice in the red lace?” He offered, and in that moment, every man in the room developed a dreamy, far-off look in their eyes.

“She was lovely,” Ezra continued, “But might I remind you, I too, am married.”

“Yes, but not happily,” Morgan retorted.

Ezra let a small, side smile touch his lips as he shook his head at Morgan. Though he was not the youngest of them all, Morgan was still the most boyish. It was nothing new for him to pout a little when he was not getting his way, and Ezra used the moment to tease him.

“Now, now, we have all just made up,” he chastised Morgan, “Let us not fall apart again over one of your little tantrums.”

“Watch it, mate,” Morgan said bitterly, crossing his arms.

“Perhaps it is you who should watch it,” Ambrose joked, punching Morgan in the arm playfully, “Happy or not, no married man wants to be caught planning a trip like this behind his wife’s back.”

“I think they might actually behappy,” Duncan mused.

A raucous laughter came from Morgan and Ambrose rose a doubtful brow.

“Well come on then, brother, tell us!” Morgan goaded, “Have you become a man in love? Will you and Lydia be popping out children as well?”

“I assure you, gentlemen, nothing will be ‘popping’ out of me any time soon,” Lydia stated, announcing her presence.

Morgan, Ambrose, and Duncan’s heads all swiveled rapidly toward the door, missing the smug smile that drew across Ezra’sface. She threw him a quick wink that ignited a stirring in his groin. He flashed his teeth as he pushed his chair away from the desk to make room for Lydia and her tray of medical supplies.

“Whatever are you scoundrels talking about?” Lydia asked haughtily, her nose high as she walked elegantly toward Ezra.

From his seat Morgan flew at the map still laid out on Ezra’s desk, and in his hurry to conceal it he nearly tore the thing in two.

“We were just discussing a trip,” Morgan answered, still fighting with the map.

“And that involves something popping out of me, how?” Lydia asked coolly as she took the seat Ezra offered her.

“Yes, do tell her,” Ezra mused, unable to hide his grin. “I, too, would like to know the answer to this.”

Lydia met his eyes with a cheeky gaze before she put her focus on redressing the wound on his hand. Like before, her touch was delicate but clinical; kind yet thorough. He had shared with his friends what had transpired the previous evening, which had been the catalyst that had led them to their apology. They had already sworn to help him find out who it was, and why they had done it.

“Well, we were curious,” Ambrose ventured, throwing a tense look at Morgan and Duncan. “About when you and Ezra might have children.”

“Oh?” she said, raising her head to look at them. “And that is your business, how?”