The drizzling rain had stopped, and sunlight filled the air with a golden glow. Suddenly, it was a nice day.
‘Sunshine,’ Blackie said with a laugh. ‘Nothing like Yorkshire weather! It changes in three shakes of a lamb’s tail. It reminds me of Ireland.’
His cousin nodded, and then explained, ‘It’s not too far to Bolton Manor, about half an hour at a steady pace.’
‘Oh, I thought it was further away than that, closer to Studley Royal.’
‘No, nearer to Harrogate. His lordship likes it up here in July and August, when guests come to stay. You know, for the shooting in August.’
‘Aye, a lot of people do that. Can’t say I do … shooting little birds is not a pastime I’d go for. I find it a bit cruel in fact, Siobhan.’
‘I know what you mean. But the toffs like it. The men anyway. Most of the ladies don’t go roaming the moors with guns in their hands, murdering birds.’
Blackie didn’t respond, and they walked on in silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts.
He was glad now he’d accepted Siobhan’s suggestion to go back to the manor. Her ladyship and Lord Robert had helped him and his cousins out over the years back in Kerry. And he had no qualms any more about just turning up with Siobhan. He would be welcome, made to feel at ease, he was certain of that.
Siobhan said, ‘All of this land surrounding us belongs to Lord Robert, and he owns lots of forests as well. Bolton Manor is on agricultural land and it’s farmed. You know, it’s a money-maker.’
Blackie nodded. He hadn’t known that. In fact, he didn’t know much at all about Bolton Manor, except that his lordship often stayed there into the autumn, sometimes until after Guy Fawkes Day in November.
He glanced about as they walked along, admiring the lovely countryside, the lush green fields, and huge trees that looked ancient. His eye caught sight of a flock of birds rising up into the sky. He followed their flight for a moment. He liked nature and was well aware that, in the fields and woods surrounding them, lived rabbits, hares, squirrels, foxes, and all manner of little scurrying animals. When he built his house one day, he would make sure he not only had lovely gardens, but also fields and forests. An estate, I want, that’s it! And another dream was born in his head. And it would grow over the years.
Bolton Manor was Georgian in style, his favourite, and Blackie liked the look of it at once. He saw that it was square, with no ‘bits’ shooting off the sides, and there was a well-kept garden at the front.
‘I like the house,’ he said to his cousin. ‘It was built well.’
‘It’s lovely inside,’ she replied. ‘We have to see Cook first, so I can give her the box of little cakes from Hettys, then I’ll go and speak to her ladyship, explain that you’re here.’
‘Thank ye, Siobhan, but don’t mention why I’m in Harrogate, or me lady friend, please.’
‘I won’t! Don’t be so daft!’ she shot back as she led him across the cobbled yard to the service entrance. Beyond was the stable block, and he could hear the sound of the horses’ hooves and their snorting. They seemed restless, he thought.
As Blackie walked into the kitchen with Siobhan, his warm smile flashed across his face.
‘Ah, and ’tis a grand place, this,’ he said. Moving across the floor, he was heading for Cook, who had swung around at the sound of voices.
‘And there you are, O’Brien,’ she said. ‘I see you have my box of little cakes. Carried them carefully, I hope, lass.’
‘I did, Cook.’
‘And who is this strapping lad tagging along with you?’ she laughed. ‘I can hardly ask, what’s this the cat’s dragged in? He’s too brawny for that.’
Stepping closer, stretching out his hand, Blackie said, ‘Shane O’Neill is me name, but most call me Blackie. It’s Siobhan’s cousin that I am.’
Cook gripped his hand, nodded and said, ‘Irish, eh? Well, take the weight off yer feet, and I’ll give yer both a mug of tea.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Felton, but I just have to see her ladyship,’ Siobhan said to the cook. ‘I need to speak to her urgently.’
‘Get along with you then, do your duty. Tea will be waiting when you get back.’
Siobhan nodded and ran out of the kitchen, smiling to herself as she heard Blackie complimenting Cook on the delicious smells floating around her kitchen. Hasn’t he kissed the Blarney Stone she thought, as she crossed the stone hall.