“My wife informs me she can cook,” Greylen said. “What know you of this, Gavin?”

“Aye, she can cook, Greylen. You’re in for a treat, my friend.”

“Well, get up already,” Gwen ordered with a smile. “We have work to do.”

Once in the kitchen, Gwen went straight to the cupboards. She removed the pots and pans while Gavin lit the fire beneath the stove. Isabelle walked to the island and set the plates that were stacked next to a vase of flowers.

“Look, Gwen,” Isabelle called with a smile. “Cook left four place settings.”

“I noticed,” Gwen replied as she took utensils from hooks above the counter. “She’s the best.” Gwen noticed, too, that Greylen was just standing by the island, watching them as if a bit surprised that they had a routine.

“Well, what do you think my husband would like?” Gwen asked as she turned to Isabelle and Gavin. “Rabbit, chicken, steak, fi—”

“Steak!” Isabelle and Gavin laid claim to the dish in a shout. As always, they were thrilled to sample the meat that Gwen seared to perfection on the stove.

“Is that all right with you, Greylen?” she asked him. “It’s different from what you’re used to,” she explained. “But your sister and Gavin said it’s much tastier than the roasted cuts Cook prepares.”

Greylen just looked at her. He couldn’t speak. She really meant to cook for him. Joyfully.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asked, placing her hand on his arm. He continued to stare as she pulled a stool from beneath the island and instructed him to sit. Then she squeezed his hands before returning to the stove.

“Isabelle, get your brother some wine and pour some for the rest of us,” Gwen instructed. “But remember, only one glass for you. Gavin, will you grab some potatoes and onions—never mind. I’ll get them, just fetch the meat from the cellar.”

Greylen drank the wine Isabelle set before him, looking to his wife, who stood before the stove. He realized only now that she wore just his shirt, and his sister, her nightclothes. Gwen leaned down to check the fire beneath the pans, swatting her hair as it fell in her face. His smile broadened as he watched her, and he almost laughed aloud when he heard her curse. Good God, she was a walking paradox.

She looked to her wrists and cursed again. He had no idea what she hoped to find, but the sight of her…by God, she was fetching. She walked toward him and lifted his wrist, smiling as she saw the leather cords he’d tied there. Their purposes were many and he always kept them handy. She removed one and looked at him as she pulled back her hair. He braced her hips between his legs and whispered in her ear, “I love you, Gwen.” He was rewarded with a smile that lit her entire face.