Chapters (71)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Part Two
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part Three
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Part Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Part Five
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Author
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Lord Lassiter exclaimed, “You’ve always got a bed here, Blackie! Why, we’ve known you since you were a child. And there’re plenty of rooms empty in the male servants’ quarters. Just make yourself at home.…” He hesitated, then added, “Could you walk around these gardens with me. You could give me some sound advice; I feel sure of that.”
“Of course, m’lord.”
Blackie raised his eyebrows at his cousin as Lord Lassiter walked down the terrace, and followed behind him.
Siobhan smiled and excused herself to go back to the kitchen to chat with Cook.
As they strolled around the garden together, Lord Lassiter pointed out things that genuinely troubled him. He thought the lawn wasn’t trimmed enough, the bushes appeared cumbersome, and he disliked the flower beds that were a mess.
Blackie, as always, listened intently, while noting many details that were wrong. When Lord Lassiter finally paused, Blackie said, “Bolton Manor is pure Georgian architecture, early Georgian. And it’s perfect, well built and quite grand, in a way. But ye see, Yer Lordship, a tradition from that period is gone. It’s disappeared.”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“The Georgian tradition was ter build a house on a hill and then create a lake at the bottom of that hill. A large man-made lake.”
“Of course! And the house would be reflected in the lake. It was considered to be a vanity, in a way.”
“These bushes block the view of the house in the lake, m’lord. That’s wrong.”
“They have to go, don’t they?”
“I’d say so, m’lord. And yer gardeners have ter cut the lawns several times a week. It always has ter be flat … as a pancake … so, very short blades of grass. And all those flower beds—” Blackie stopped short, grimaced as he waved his hand at them, and finished, “They all have to be dug up and replanted elsewhere.”
“I see,” Lord Lassiter murmured. “But it will be a dull-looking area, won’t it?”
“I be thinking the best thing there would be a parterre, Your Lordship. Elegant they are, and they would stretch right across, from yon wall to the far edge of the lawn.”
Lord Lassiter stared at Blackie, a sudden look of comprehension entered his eyes and he nodded vigorously. “Of course! A parterre would be absolutely glorious. And how clever of you, Blackie, to solve my problems so swiftly.” He cleared his throat, and asked, “I wonder, well, er, er, would you take it on, Blackie? I would see you are well compensated.”
“It would be an honor, Lord Lassiter, under normal circumstances, but I be a builder of houses now. Also, I be starting a new job on Monday. I start building a conservatory for a client of ours.” He straightened up slightly, and said in a solemn tone, “My uncle has made me his partner.”