Not in the dining room.

Mrs. Nesbeth's husbands and I got along quite well, with them describing their roles and duties on the farm, as well as the difficulties and inconveniences they face with sharing a wife. But soon enough, Mrs. Nesbeth called out to us that dinner was ready. I offered my assistance in setting the table, but Anthony informed me that we wouldn't be dining here.

Following them into the kitchen, we sat down and ate at their kitchen table, trading questions about this and that, when Roland and Mrs. Nesbeth excused themselves first, leaving Anthony, Ian and myself to do the washing up. I had insisted on doing my part, as small a recompense that it was, for my barging into their private affairs. Ian simply shrugged and left, while Anthony picked up another plate. "Mr. McKay," he said, "Diane has informed us that you are not just here to sup with us, but that you are also here to... observe in our husbandly duties."

"I wouldn't call it that. I asked Mrs. Nesbeth and she said that it would be more convenient to... show me, rather than tell me." I countered, before scowling. "Now that I say it out loud, it is exactly that."

"Indeed," he nodded, setting some dishes aside. "I need to inform you, that Diane has a... particular set of needs, and that whatever we may do, is in the name of Love and Duty. This is the 18th century after all. We aren't animals." Turning to me, he looked me dead in the Eye. "On your Word, Mr. McKay, do you swear, to God Above, that no matter what you see or hear or feel, that you will Respect that everything we are about to do, is what Diane wants, and that we are not Abusing our wife?"