Harry's eyes started at the shoes and followed the light sandy coloured linen trousers up; she appreciated the jacket and shirt. Before her eyes went any higher she was grinning widely. She felt like flinging her arms round his neck just like a six year old excited that her dad had arrived home, but she restrained herself. Her eyes danced, her smile stretched from ear to ear and an enormous weight invisibly lifted off her shoulders. Their eyes finally met and he knew it was worth coming. Her grin was infectious; he stood with his hands in his pockets, trying to look nonchalant "Hi ya Harry"

"You came then" secretly Harry wondered how she managed to sound so indifferent when inside her heart was leaping.

"Yeh, seems so"

"Spikings cancelled the 24 hour surveillance?"

"No"

"So?"

"So I got a taxi all the way here so I could get a few hours sleep"

Harry was dumfounded, he had put himself out big time to get here. Dempsey looked at her amazed face; he wasn't going to miss this for the world, or for Spikings! Harry had been given the 3 days off she had wanted to come and host the annual village fete and show but when the Raymond brothers had launched a jewel heist all other staff had been pulled in to set a trap and Spikings had insisted Dempsey stayed in London to play his part.

Some two weeks ago Lord Winfield had broken his hip when he had fallen; he had been planning as usual to host the event which traditionally took place in the grounds of Winfield Hall, but the fall had put a stop to all of that. Fortunately he been discharged from hospital yesterday, but was quite exhausted from the shock, the pain and the difficulty in mobility. Harry had had to leave most of the work to the faithful staff and had arrived around the same time as her father and was now checking the programme with Abbott. She was happy enough for the events to happen in the grounds, and trusted the staff well enough to organise everything (after all with tradition very little changed from year to year) however she hated the bits she would have to do as Lady of the Manor, especially the judging!

She knew who expected to win, and what people would say if she chose the wrong results! Diplomacy within the WI and the Round Table was worse than trying to get peace in Northern Ireland in her opinion. Somehow having her best friend here with her made everything so much better. She had tried to explain to Dempsey about cake competitions, flower arranging and vegetable shows whilst they spent 6 hours on the Yancey stake out last week. He didn't get any of it, but he kept making her laugh with his wacky solutions and right now she was especially gratefully he was here, and that he had put himself out big time to do it.

The only thing that Dempsey understood was for Harry this event was a big deal and because of that he wanted to be here for her. Partners supported each other, whatever and where ever – that was his rule. He wasn't sure he had seen Harry speechless before (unless she was angry with him), he decided to rescue the situation, "You gonna show me around then?" he asked smiling down at her.

Harry fixed her eyes on his and smiled again. She slipped her arm through his, "This way first"

They made their way over to some white marquees, as they entered the first one a large lady in a floral dress with a white coat over the top came towards them. "Ah, Lady Harriet we are ready for you now"

Dempsey looked at Harry "The judging begins" she whispered

"So this is where the women's institute stand on a round table and draw swords?" Dempsey quipped. Harry giggled

"This is where the judgement of Solomon is probably not enough" she whispered in his ear. The large lady looked scornful at the giggling and asked if Lady Harriet would like any guidance with the judging. Dempsey spoke up "I think it might be best …" he became instantly aware of the eyes glaring at him and slicing through him. Such icy stares just pushed him to dig in deeper; he continued "if everybody left the tent…" My God he thought if looks could kill he knew he'd be dead.

"Lady Harriet is not so familiar with the prizes she is awarding, it may be better if I and some of my associates are here to help her…" she stumbled for a name to finish her sentence and Harry realised.

"Mrs Protherall, may I introduce Mr James Dempsey, my partner. James, Mrs Protherall, the president of the local WI"

"Your partner…" Mrs Protherall forgot to shake hands for a brief moment, revealing her shock.

"Yeh, and as I was saying, maybe Harry, err Lady Harriet, may best judge without anybody from any side in here"

"If you don't mind me saying young man, you don't know the criteria" Mrs Protherall was agitated and Harry glared at Dempsey. Mrs Protherall continued "We need a special Show Award given by Lady Harriet for each main category…"

Dempsey noticed Harry's glare 'What?' he asked by simply raising his eyebrows at her. Harry's reply came from a widening of her eyes, a gritting of her teeth and raising her shoulders. Dempsey had no idea what it was meant to convey but he got the idea that Harry wasn't best impressed. He changed tactics beamed widely and put on his charming smile. He put his arm around the wide shoulders of Mrs Protherall and whispered into her ear. Now she was intensely aware that a charming, good looking young American had his arm around her and no one else and as he led her out of the tent she was just hoping that Mrs Collins and Mrs Smart would both be outside to see her being whispered to by 'the partner of Lady Harriet'. She already had the satisfaction that her arch rival Judith Hill was left standing alone. Makepeace indicated the door to the others in the area and they left. "Lady Harriet" Judith Hill handed Makepeace the cards to place by the winning exhibits. Harry wandered around the various tables with cakes, scones and bread. How on earth was she to decide on a special honour for baking?

Dempsey re-appeared "She's a real pussy cat"

"Who?"

"Doris"

"Doris?"

"Mrs Protherall"

"Is that her name?"

"You didn't know?"

"She's always scared me rigid. I remember when I was 9…"

"Well 'Lady Harriet' she's rubbing herself around my legs and purring sweetly"

Harry looked at him in mock shock

"Figuratively speaking" he added.

"Well it doesn't help me with his nightmare"

"Explain to me again"

"The food judges have given out 1st 2nd and 3rd for all the different foods, but before they put their cards out I'm supposed to choose some special show awards."

"Are there any rules?"

"Not for this bit, but people like Mrs Protherall and Mrs Hill argue about it for months" she looked up into his eyes, they were fixed on her, she had felt them burning into her, "I'm glad they're not here, thank you for that"

James put his arm around Harry's waist and guided her over to the cakes. He glanced along the table and pointed to one halfway down. "You should give that one a prize" he suggested.

"Why"

"Because the little jelly decorations remind me of my old Aunty Julia's cakes. We used to call round after school and she'd give each of us some cake and a drink."

Harry smiled, "Our old cook used to put them on fairy cakes, and send a tin of them up to school."

She smiled as she wrote 'for happy memories of childhood cakes' on the slip that accompanied the special award card. She turned to Dempsey, "You really are my knight in shining armour; thank you Sir Gawain"

Dempsey insisted that the largest scones got a nomination for being the 'only ones to satisfy a man' and a loaf of rye bread that reminded him of a New York Deli.

They moved into the creative art marquee and gave the award for a painting to an eleven year old lad 'who would clearly have rather been playing football than keeping his mum happy by entering the competition'. Another for a poem that made them laugh at its contorted rhyming, and one for the smallest cross stitch; Dempsey said that at least the owner hadn't wasted all her days on stitching!

Harry was relaxed and laughing, they came into the third and final marquee, with many flower displays. Dempsey glanced up and down the long central table and held Harry's right hand with his left as he gently pulled her across to a pedestal of white roses. "This one" he said as he pulled her towards himself. Makepeace also looked up and down the table at the sophisticated arrangements and back to this one which was a mass of tumbling roses; a display without 5 or 7 points, or any tall green background or contrasts of types of flower, essentially it was a huge bunch of roses. Still holding Harry with his left hand Dempsey used his right hand to pluck one of the roses from the arrangement and smell it. He brushed Harry's hair back from her forehead as he held the rose in his fingers. Now as their eyes met their hearts skipped a beat, Harry allowed herself to turn into face James. His little finger caressed her face line.

"I love white roses; their purity, their fragrance, their complexity…" as he spoke he brushed his fingers through her hair, parting it a little so the rose would stay in place. Their lips came close. He knew he was describing Harry, did she? Her heart started to beat fast; she hoped he couldn't hear it. She couldn't take her eyes off of his, he noticed her parted lips and as he placed the rose in her hair his fingers ran through her hair down onto her neck. His lips opened to match hers, but he still didn't know if he should be kissing her. There was a charge of electricity around the two of them; Harry brought her body closer in toward his. "Because I love an English rose" he whispered. Harry felt her knees give way; she could feel James' breath cross her lips. This was it she thought, at last, all she had been secretly hoping for.