FREE! In The Arms of My Enemy (Completed!) Book 1

Her Loving Husband

Fidelia hid a smile behind her hand. "William? What are you doing?"

William paused, the rolling pin midswing. He looked up at her, and his already flushed face reddened even more. "Ah, you are up. That does not bode well for my plan."

She stepped closer to pick a piece of dough out of his hair. "And that plan was . . . ?"

William sighed and set down the rolling pin. "Home."

"What?" Fidelia asked in surprise.

"I . . ." William leaned over the wooden table and hung his head in defeat. "Last night, you said you missed the feeling of home. I wanted to make you happy, and since I cannot take you back to America, I theorized I could at least make you that meat pie you mentioned, but that battle did not go in my favor." He gestured to the pie dough stuck to the cabinets.

"Oh, William." Her throat tightened. "You heard me? You were listening?"

He sighed again and looked at her from under his heavy brow. "Not much of a husband to you, I suppose. I can't even make you a proper pie."

Fidelia touched his cheek with her fingertips, brushing away a scab of dried dough. "If that was supposed to be a meat pie, then what is this?" She gestured at the lump on the table.

"After the meat pie disaster, I tried to make you some 'heavenly' bread, as you called it. I thought baking would be easy enough, but . . . it appears I have lost the war." His head hung even lower.

Fidelia cupped his cheek in her hand and ducked her head to meet his gaze. "William . . ." She kissed his cheek softly, unable to find the words to describe how his gesture had warmed her heart. He wrapped his arms around her hesitantly, and when Fidelia didn't pull away, he tightened his grip and nestled his nose against her neck.

The maids gasped and twittered excitedly. Fidelia's cheeks heated, and she quickly pulled out of his grasp as she furiously sniffled back the onset of tears. "Come now, William. Your cooking skills are woeful, but I shall endeavor to teach you."

"Truly?" William laughed, straightening to glance around the kitchen. "I'm not beyond hope?"

"Only a little, but I can still save you," Fidelia said with a wink. He smiled slowly and took her fingers in his.

She blushed at the intensity of his gaze and looked away. "Shall we?"

***
After three hours of dutifully following Fidelia's instructions, William produced one heavenly, if a bit burnt, loaf of bread. He beamed at her as the loaf cooled on the counter.

"Your skills as a teacher rival those of your cooking, my clever wife—" He broke off, wincing. "Ah, forgive me. I know you don't like being called that."

Fidelia shrugged and began slicing the warm bread. Steam curled from the fresh cuts and tickled William's nose as he took a seat on the stool beside her. He allowed himself the luxury of watching the way her slender hands moved, the way her lips turned up slightly as she buttered the slices.

"I do not mind. But only you are allowed to call me clever, mind you." She laughed lightly and held out a piece to him, level with his lips. "Here. The fruits of your labor."

Slowly, William held her gaze, leaned forward, and took a bite. The crust was slightly burnt, but the yeasty flavor was delicious. The taste was nothing compared to the feeling that stirred in his chest at the way she looked at him. He reached up with one hand and clasped hers.

"It's heavenly, just as you described. My baking skills are now mas­terful," he teased with a wink.

"Well, you did have a wonderful tutor."