All except one lass, David corrected himself. His Rose had never taken to Nat, not from the first day he’d introduced her to him a short while after he and Rose had met. Funny that. She was always polite to Nat, and she hadn’t raised any objection when he’d wanted him as his best man at their wedding, but she didn’t like him nonetheless, he could tell. He’d once made some laughing remark that it was fortunate he’d seen her first before she saw Nat, and she had stopped what she was doing and put her arms round him and, her face deadly serious, had said that he was ten times the man Nat would ever be. She’d been baking at the time and he’d been sitting at the kitchen table watching her, and when he had pulled her onto his lap and started making love to her, the fruit scones had burned.

His mouth quirking at the memory, David said, ‘You know I’ve never had a way with the lassies like you, besides which Rose is enough for me and always will be. I thank me lucky stars each night she looked the side I was on, man. I still can’t believe me luck.’

Nathaniel made no comment to this. The two men were crouched on a top saddle tank doing some welding, and he turned his head so his face screen hid his expression. It amazed him that his friend had never guessed how he felt about Rose, but he knew he hadn’t. Davey was an open book, he thought with a feeling of scorn. If he’d suspected anything he would have had to bring it into the open, that was what Davey was like.

Rose . . . Nathaniel pictured her in his mind’s eye, his body hardening. Thick chestnut-red hair, heavily lashed clear green eyes, small nose and a full mouth set in a heart-shaped face that was so beautiful it made a man ache. She had taken his breath away the first time he’d seen her. She still did.

She had been sixteen when Davey had introduced them and as innocent as a lamb. He’d had several girls by then and could recognize those with experience a mile off. Davey, on the other hand, had never so much as walked out with a lass before, and then he’d gone and reeled in a corker like Rose. It was still a mystery to him what she saw in his friend and if he could have lured her away from Davey he’d have done so like a shot, best pal or not. But for some reason Rose only had eyes for Davey.

‘You still seeing that lass from Baxter’s sweet shop, Millicent, wasn’t it?’ David asked after a minute or two.