"Mm," Ford murmured, chewing over her comment about time smoothing over the rough edges. "I hope so." The rough edges in his marriage probably weren't like the ones in any other relationship, but maybe her comment still had merit. It seemed like a more plausible future than hoping they would someday fall in love with each other — but of course most people expected that they were already in love with each other. Or at least, that was the story... Ford suspected most people probably thought they were a pair of stupid, lustful young adults who had gotten carried away and gotten caught and were now paying the price for it, not that they had some sort of secret romance for the ages. Clementine had essentially accused him of as much, while they were engaged; Verity knew that in the immediate aftermath of the event he'd been planning not to do the honorable thing and marry her, until her father had hunted him down and convinced him otherwise. Grace was maybe the only person in the world who might believe they were actually in love, and that had more to do with her blind faith in the goodness of the world and the power of true love than it did with any of the facts of the situation.

He looked surprised at her question; it had never occurred to him that this was a thing people did. It sounded nice, and he was sure Jemima would appreciate the gesture — but, as with all things, he considered the cost. "Oh, that's — what's the, uh, rate for something like that?"

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