Gesturing to a sofa, he bade them sit. ‘One of my tenants has moved on, and I intend to make a few changes.’

Harry wondered, ‘What kind of changes, sir, and how does that affect us?’

‘The departing tenant ran one of my smaller farms – a hundred acres, with a small thatched cottage. The land has fallen into poor condition, and the cottage needs work on it.’

Anticipating his proposition, Harry stood up. ‘Thank you all the same, and don’t think Bridget and I are not grateful, but we’ve set our hearts on owning our own business, lock, stock and barrel. We can’t even consider taking on a tenancy, however attractive.’

‘Quite right too.’ Doyle bade him sit again. ‘Now then, I mean to sell all my tenancies, and this is by far the best. It lies in the south valley, overlooking the Blaketon Hills.’ He wagged a finger at Harry. ‘You know the farm. You’ve helped work it often enough.’

Harry did know it well. ‘It is a beautiful position,’ he admitted. But he was a practical man. ‘I could never afford it.’

Brushing aside Harry’s protests, Doyle went on: ‘As I have already explained, the land is in a dire state… the cottage too, and it will cost time and effort to put it right. So, as you can see, I’m not being over-generous. I have no intention of pouring good money after bad. I want shot of all the small farms, and, because you were always hard-working and loyal, I’m offering this one to you. And before you say any more, think on this… I would be a rogue if I were to ask more than it’s worth at this moment in time; which, I have to admit, is not a great deal. So? What do you say?’

He needed an answer. ‘I have a selfish reason for asking. I intend spending much time abroad, and I have need of a reliable person to oversee my interests here. I can think of no man, other than yourself, who has my trust. And of course, I will pay you well.’

Thrilled, Harry turned to Bridget. ‘What do you think? Could we do it, the two of us?’

‘Take your good woman to see it,’ Doyle commanded. ‘Then come and give me word.’

That same afternoon, Harry took Bridget to the farm in the valley. ‘Oh, Harry, it’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘We have to make it ours.’

‘I knew you would say that,’ he told her. ‘I’ve always loved this place. I used to stand here and dream that one day you and I would find happiness together. There is no other place I would rather be.’ He loved the countryside. Working enclosed in his father’s room had been hard to bear. Now, though, he felt he had paid the price for what he had done, and his heart was at peace.

The sound of laughter made Bridget look down to where the cottage stood. ‘Come outa there, yer buggers!’ Fanny yelled. ‘Else I’ll tan yer arses, so I will.’