Before setting off on their walk, they wrapped up warmly against the cold: Lord Winfield had tried to persuade him to wear tweeds, but Dempsey resolutely refused, opting instead for a second sweater under his leather jacket. The result was a little tight but anything was better than becoming a parody of an English gent. If Harry ever let such a thing slip at HQ, the embarrassment would be enough to make him leave the country.
The air outside was crisp, and he stood on the patio at the back of the house breathing it in gratefully. The spaciousness of Winfield Hall hadn't prevented him experiencing a kind of claustrophobia; it felt so good to be out in the open. In front of them the landscape stretched away, fresh snow whitening the fields as far as the eye could see and thickly coating everything in the grounds, from the large fountain to the symmetrical topiary beyond.
This is my idea of a holiday, he thought. Just as beautiful as the landscape was Harry herself. The cold suited her. She stood beside him with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks, and on impulse he enveloped her in a hug, kissing her hard on the lips and laughing as he heard her gasp. At their feet, Lord Winfield's spaniel Jasper barked excitedly, sensing their happiness and the prospect of a long walk.
"Steady" her gloved fingers restrained him while her eyes said something quite different. Taking his cue from the eyes and not the hands, he grabbed her hips, pushing her up against the low patio wall. They kissed for a long time, and he was about to request that they take a rain check with the walk and just go back to bed when she broke away and took his hand, pulling him towards the stone steps that lead to the grounds.
"Come on James, let's walk. I want to show you the place where I grew up."
Jasper scurried ahead of them. It was a familiar route to him and he soon disappeared down a narrow track in the middle of a copse of trees.
"Jasper!" she called. "Don't go too far."
"Do you know him?" Dempsey asked.
She wrinkled her nose in the way he loved.
"Not directly, actually. I know his ancestors though. He must be the great grandson of Cassie, a dog I had when I was a girl. She was beautiful – died when I was in my first year at Cambridge. It's lovely to see Jasper, so full of life."
"Like you then." They smiled at each other. Now they had reached the entrance to the copse and walked hand in hand along the narrow tree-lined track, not talking; relishing the solitude and togetherness and the nature around them. It was quiet, but despite the cold and the snow, there was still the faint, slightly eery sound of a bird calling, somewhere in the trees.
Jasper ran some metres in front, trotting back every so often to remind them of his allegiance then sprinting off again, lured by the smell of something - perhaps rabbit - that hadn't been completely obliterated by the snow. Sometimes his curiosity was too intense and he burrowed deeply enough to dislodge loose powder from branches above, which then fell on top of him so he retreated, shaking his head vigorously. At these times and to Dempsey's amusement, he would look back at them reproachfully, as if chastising them for not warning him of the pitfalls.
Eventually, the copse thinned out and they were in open countryside again. They continued walking alongside of the wood, as the sky grew more overcast now that the early morning brightness had burned off.
Dempsey loved the way the land before him was divided up into such neat little patchworks. Clear against the skyline was a single hill, stark against the otherwise flat landscape.
Harry saw him looking. "Lennox Hill" she said. I used to walk there all the time. It's a good five miles away. From the top there are wonderful views, you can see all over the county. It appealed to my need for solitude. Sometimes I would take a book and stay there all day."
"Sure like to go there with you some day, babe. In summer, maybe."
"Yes. You'll love it here in summer too, James. It's completely different of course. But still wonderful."
She looked wistful. "Sometimes I wonder how I manage, living in London. Coming back here reminds me of all the space I grew up with. London is just the opposite."
Dempsey looked at her in alarm. "You ain't thinkin' of givin' up the city are you angel?'
"Oh, of course not." She sighed. "I love London, of course I do. I could never come back here to live permanently – I'd probably be bored, for a start. But just here, now - breathing it all in – it makes me realize that perhaps I should visit more often. Never mind that Daddy isn't getting any younger."
He put his arm around her. "I reckon your old man's got a fair bit of life in him yet."
She didn't answer. They had stopped walking and were leaning up against a fence, listening to the silence. Jasper dropped panting to the packed-down snow at Harry's feet, tired at last.
He chose his words carefully. "You know, if you wanted to spend more time here, I'd be open to comin' with you more often. As opposed to spending every weekend in London. Gotta lot of time for your Dad."
She nestled against his shoulder, looked up into his face. "Do you really mean that? Don't think I don't know how hard this weekend's been for you – and it's only Saturday morning!"
He tightened his arm around her. He couldn't deny that being in her environment was difficult. It was just so alien to him, was the truth of the matter. But he also knew that his love for her made that sort of irrelevant. This was where she was from. Compared to the trials of their actually getting together, this was nothing.
"Harry – I do." He said.
She turned into him and kissed him. When she pulled away, he saw that there were tears in her eyes.
"You make me happy James Dempsey. Do you know that? It's this funny feeling I'm trying to get used to."
He smiled, his heart feeling suddenly lighter than air. None of it mattered: class difference, nationality difference, friends, family, colleagues – nothing and no one. The only thing that mattered was the two of them.
"I know babe – cos you make me happy too," he said, and they looked deep into each other's eyes. Gently with his finger, he wiped away her unspilled tear.
Then Jasper got to his feet and shook himself. His mistress had stayed still for too long, he decided. He gave a little bark.
Dempsey laughed, reached down for a nearby stick and threw it.
"Fetch that, you crazy mutt."
Elated and unaffected by the name-calling, Jasper raced away. They continued on their walk.