That, Joan feels, is more than enough to ease her from the arm of the chair into his lap and so she relocates, still straight-backed, but with her shoulder against his chest. Her free fingers slip between the buttons of his shirt and she's quiet again for awhile, pleased with the conversation, but not satisfied with it. Necessary, but not sufficient.

"It's foolish for me to be jealous of younger women, I know." Not because none might take an interest in her husband, but because it isn't how his tastes run. "You didn't trade Geena in on a younger model, just one that suited where you were in life." That thought chills her again and her sip of wine is faster and larger than it ought to be. "That's what worries me. That I won't be the model that suits the island Arthur. I know I'm not an easy woman to be with, and the island's filled with lovely, brilliant women who wouldn't push so hard and demand so much from you."