There was something comforting to Henry that his mind immediately went to the idea that he wasn't sure he currently had any scruples of anything on him before his brain properly caught up and he realized she meant it in a more conventional sense. At least somewhere in there, his mind was still his own.

"My scruples aren't what's in need of relief," he said, looking up at her again like he was half ready to pin her against a tree and give her the kind of snog he'd been saving for if he'd ever see his wife again. No one here needed to know how passionate he was. River did in her way, but she seemed to be unable to stop herself from collecting snippets of people. This woman was- Aww, hell at least she wasn't practically a teenager. That alone made him feel much less filthy about the whole thing.