‘I am finished!’ Blackie exclaimed, a wide smile settling on his face. ‘When I put me pencil down half an hour ago, they were done. Thank ye for letting me work on your table, love, it really helped, ’cos I could spread out the papers, sure and I could. Faith, and I’m grateful to ye, lass.’

‘It’s my pleasure, Blackie. So will you be going to Harrogate next week?’ she then asked, filled with curiosity about his plans.

‘I aim to go and see Lord Robert, to show him these interiors, but I’d be going anyhow, to see how Uncle Pat’s been faring with me builders. The structure was up, I told ye that, and when I saw it, I knew I’d picked the right spot for the guesthouse. I think I told ye I’d decided to move the guesthouse in front of that there copse of trees, and I was right. They make a nice backdrop, and they’ll add shelter in the bad weather, shade in the summer.’

Always impressed by Blackie, admiring of his ideas and his understanding of architecture, Laura said, ‘You’re so clever the way you do things – and how you taught yourself to build houses, I’ll never know. And this is truly such a wonderful opportunity for you.’

‘Well, I did go to night school, ye knows that, but I think I just knows how to design buildings, sort of naturally, I suppose.’

‘You were born with a gift,’ Laura said with her quiet authority. ‘Of that I’m certain.’

‘Perhaps ye are right. And I’d say ye have a gift for sewing. That was a lovely piece ye were putting lace on. What is it ye are making, love?’

‘A nightgown. I was given the lace, so I’m making something special with it.’ She paused, smiled shyly at him, and added, ‘Perhaps it’ll be for my Bottom Drawer.’

Blackie stared at her, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘What do ye mean when ye say bottom drawer, as if it’s something special?’

‘Well, it is. Every young woman who hopes to get married starts a Bottom Drawer, to put things in for her wedding, like nightgowns, petticoats, tablecloths, that sort of thing. Items women make to take with them into a marriage. I suppose it’s a tradition, a custom. Anyway, this lace is too pretty for everyday, so perhaps I’ll make a start, if it’s not tempting fate.’

‘Fancy that … I’ve never heard of it,’ Blackie answered. ‘But I do see how practical it is.’ Putting down his tea, he leaned forward, and focusing his eyes on her, he said, ‘I’ve a confession to make to ye, love.’

Laura sat up straighter, a look of alarm settling on her face. ‘What kind of confession?’ she asked, her voice suddenly worried.