“So little faith in me?” Darcy asked in mock disappointment. “I will have you know that while I cannot compare to our cooks at Pemberley or in London, I certainly know how to make pancakes or omelettes, and had you asked, I would have obliged you with the pleasure.”

“And when, may I enquire, did you find the time to learn how to cook?”

“While I was charming our cooks into preparing all of the meals I desired that were deemed by my parents as unsuitable for the good growth of their son. I can be quite irresistible if I want, you know,” Darcy smiled smugly at his wife.

Still being held most comfortably by her rather tall foot warmer, she asked, “Is that so? Pray, when will you attempt to use your charm on me?”

“I had hoped I was doing quite well,” Darcy said sheepishly. “Should I cook for you, or rather teach you how to do it?”