“Well, Sir, your silly wife was going to bring you a snack of pancakes in bed. But I can clearly see now that you would not have appreciated it in the least. I should have just gotten myself something to eat and settled in the parlour with a good book. In fact, that is exactly what I shall do,” she stated, “once my feet are a littler warmer.”

“On the contrary, I do appreciate my silly wife very much, but I am afraid she does not really know how to cook, does she? Perhaps she might consider leaving the cooking to her husband?”

She stared smugly at him now, sure that he had gone too far in his boast, and wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck.

“Certainly, Fitzwilliam. Please do allow me to leave it to you. I would like some pancakes most desperately, but an omelette will do just as well,” she grinned. “But then maybe you can simply cook some water for me, and I might take a bath.”