only marginally more animated, but Tabitha was practically bubbling with enthusiasm. She gave Will a smile and a wink as she began to sample each dish.
As expected, they gave Armand’s food high marks, but their expressions turned to surprise, then delight as they moved on to Will’s offering. Within minutes it was apparent he had won, for they kept sampling, tasting, and outright devouring what he had put in front of them. Agnes was the first to address him. “What exactly is this?” She pointed her spoon at the fluffy yet savory concoction that was in the ramekin in front of her.
“It’s called a soufflé,” Will answered. “It’s made with eggs and cheese and it has to be served immediately after cooking, before it falls.”
“It’s almost like cake,” Tabitha enthused, “except it isn’t sweet. It’s sort of cheesy and light.”
Mark leaned back. He had already finished everything he had been given. “I have to confess I never would have imagined having a salad for breakfast, but it went surprisingly well with the cheese thing.”
Will smiled. He’d made a salad with bitter dandelion greens and a sweet vinaigrette, then he’d topped it with crisp slices of sweet apple and added crunchy walnuts toasted with honey. The combination of textures and fresh, sweet, and sour flavors made the salad a perfect respite from the light but rich soufflé.
Surprisingly, Armand wasn’t a sore loser. After the winner had been decided, the two men returned to the kitchen and ate the remainders, each eating the other’s food. Will complimented him. “I couldn’t have made a tart like this. It’s absolutely perfect.”
Armand grunted. “It’s just time and practice. Where did you get the idea for that salad?”
“My grandfather. I think he traveled a lot. He was very demanding about his food, but he taught me as much as he could.”
“I’d like you to show me how you made that soufflé, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.” He explained what he had done, then added, “I can return sometime and make it again with you if you wish.”
“William,” Agnes was calling to him from the other room.
“I’d better go,” he told the cook. Returning to the dining room, he sat across from Laina.
“You weren’t going to eat with us after all the effort you went to?” asked the baroness.
He grinned sheepishly. “Actually, I just finished. I tasted a lot as I was cooking, and Armand and I just traded our dishes with each other.”
Laina snorted. “He’s married to a princess, but he eats in the kitchen like a farmhand.”
“And cooks like a god,” added Tabitha, a dreamy smile on her face. “Will you be visiting us again, Will?”
He wasn’t sure how to answer, and his eyes went to the baron and baroness to gauge their reaction to the question. Mark Nerrow frowned faintly, but his wife was firm in her response. “You can visit us any time, William. You are always welcome in our home, and I’d be delighted if you made it a habit to drop by frequently.” She smiled to reinforce her words.
Tabitha nodded in agreement. “And if you want to cook something, I don’t think anyone here would complain.” When her mother looked askance at her, she added, “That was a joke, Mother. Naturally he’s welcome whether he cooks or not.” She turned back to Will. “Tell Selene to come with you next time too. I miss her.”
Didn’t Laina tell her anything? He glanced at the older sister, and she shook her head negatively, warning him to refrain from getting into that problem. “I’ll try to do that,” he said, answering Tabitha as honestly as he could.
The baron eased his chair back and stood, stretching his back in a gesture that seemed contrived. “I’m sure William has a lot to get back to at Wurthaven, and we’ve imposed on his time for long enough. Can I offer you a ride back to the college?”
Tabitha let out a disappointed groan and her mother glared at the baron. “He hasn’t been here long, Mark. Let him stay a while.”
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to hurry him off,” insisted the baron. “I was