Laura stared at him, a look of pleasure mingled with surprise on her face. “Oh, how wonderful for you!” she exclaimed, beaming at him. “Congratulations.”

Blackie laughed. “I can hardly believe it meself. But it’s a good chance for me and Uncle Pat. It’ll be a fine fee for us too. Lord Lassiter is very fair.”

“I’m sure it will work well. You’ll be busy and still taking on more.”

“I will that, lass!” he exclaimed, and leaning forward he poked the fire, moved the logs around, then sat back, threw her a warm smile, enjoying this time alone with her.

“There’s just something I want to say…,” Laura began, and hesitated for a moment, as if wondering whether to continue.

Blackie stared across at her. In the firelight, her face looked serious, or perhaps “solemn” might be a better word, he thought. “What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Laura responded swiftly. “I won’t hold any secrets from you. As my—as one of my best friends, you know everything.”

Blackie nodded. “Thank you for telling me that. And I feel the same way. I’ll always share me thoughts, and I won’t keep any secrets either.” As he spoke, Blackie thought of one secret he’d hidden from his uncle, but he shoved it to the back of his mind. Don’t think about that now, he warned himself, knowing he must keep his attention on Laura. She was such a fine young woman, and he’d grown to be fond of her, and couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without friends like her.

They sat in silence for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts, but both of them sat up straighter when they heard voices outside and feet coming down the path.

Laura jumped up, turned on a light and went to open the door.

Blackie also stood, straightened his jacket and joined her. Together they greeted Peter Lowrie and his girlfriend Sally Powers, old friends of Laura’s. Blackie knew Peter well; he was a cub reporter on The Yorkshire Gazette, an evening newspaper his uncle read.

With greetings exchanged, Blackie led the couple down the room to the grouping of chairs and the sofa. He asked them if they would like a cup of tea or lemonade.

“Lemonade, please,” Sally answered, and Peter nodded. “The same, please. It’s still quite a warm day.”

Laura took out glasses, and asked Blackie to get the jug of lemonade out of the larder. He did so, and went over to the oak table. “Here ye are, love.” He smiled as he put down the jug.

Within seconds, the four of them were drinking lemonade, and chatting, enjoying one another’s company.