All were rather fed up with the building work, but they spent happy days walking and exploring, though for Montel it was painting and more painting.

Mags had her own room, promising Montel that their lives together would start once they were living separately from Betsy and her family, although there were opportunities for them to be alone, as Betsy had taken to going out for a walk with the children every afternoon. Always they came back full of excitement at something newly discovered: seals playing in the sea, a rickety bridge over a ravine that led to a field of cows, and a magical castle, as they called the ruins of Dunskey Castle, sitting on the cliff to the south of the house.

But for all the happiness she’d found, Mags was beset by worry. Everything was costing a lot more than she had imagined, and she had visions of her legacy running out within two years.

Winter was upon them before the house was truly ready, giving them all their own living areas. By that time an idea had occurred to Mags. They had noticed that many tourists came from England and the Scottish cities to the village, by train via Stranraer, and by boat from Ireland. The three hotels and the inn always did a roaring trade.

Looking over at Montel as he lay asleep, with the low winter sun streaming through the window and lighting up his naked body, Mags felt her happiness to be complete, but also knew that now was the time to plan to supplement their income the following summer. Betsy was soon to have her baby, but once she had recovered and could take responsibility for running the home, Mags would be free to put her ideas into action.

Montel stirred. ‘What iz it you are thinking about, my darling? I can almost hear your brain ticking.’

‘Ha, yes, I am scheming. But we ought to get up – it is light and so it must be almost ten.’

Montel rolled over onto his front and cupped his head in his hands. ‘It is too cold. I’ll light the fire in a moment. Then I’ll come back to bed and make love to you while the room warms up.’

Mags smiled at him. ‘Well, sometime today I need to discuss some plans that I have to bring us in an income.’

Montel moaned. ‘So it iz that my lovemaking has to wait, eh?’

‘No, we can do that first – as you say, once you have lit the fire. Because now that you have mentioned it, I am aching for you.’

‘I think that you are a naughty girl, Mags.’ With this, Montel jumped out of bed and rekindled the embers in the bedroom fireplace, soon having the dry sticks crackling away and placing coals on them. Then he laughed at what the cold had done to his ardour. ‘Come here, it iz that you have to warm me up again.’

Mags giggled, and her happiness brimmed over as she went into his arms.