“Frey, can I talk to you a moment?” Simon asked, sticking his head into the galley.

“Sure. I doubt anything you say is going to make this any better, but sure.”

“Make what?” He stepped to the floor, then saw she was stirring something on the stove. “Oh.”

“Yeah. My cooking really doesn‘t improve, does it?”

“Well, it looks … interesting.”

Freya laughed. “You, sir, are a gentleman.” She lifted the spoon. “Inara’s housekeeper, that Mrs Boden, gave me some recipes and a few bits. She said they were easy to follow.”

“Are they?”

“Probably. Except I seem to have something of a blind spot when it comes to preparing food.”

He smiled and came round the counter to stand next to her. “Well, let’s take a look and see what you’ve done.”

They studied the recipe together, heads almost touching.

“See, I did what she said. Only it doesn’t exactly look … well, look at it.”

“I’ll admit it leaves something to be desired, but maybe it improves from the slow cooking.”

“Simon, I think I could put this in the oven for a week and it would still taste terrible.”

He smiled. “I think we should do what the recipe says.” He covered the dish and placed it inside the hot oven.

“And if it still comes out looking like a dog’s dinner?”

“Well, thanks to your husband and Jayne, at least we’ve got the dogs to feed it to.”

The expression on his face made her laugh. “He was only doing what he thought best.”

“Really?”

“Well, okay, maybe not,” she conceded. “There may have been a little bit of winding up his good doctor too, but … Simon, Bethany had turned on the big eyes.”

He sighed. “I know. And I will admit the thought did cross my mind to go and get her a little dog for her birthday.” He glared at Freya. “But if you tell Mal that, I’ll hotly deny it.”

Freya grinned. “I won’t.” She wiped her hands on the cloth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so happy as Bethie did.”

“I suppose I’m going to have to bone up on canine physiology now.”

“Probably a good idea.