Thursday 10th April 1808

Dear Diary,
I knew it! I slipped into the scullery this morning, unannounced, and caught Ned kneading Titty's muffins. He leapt back in embarrassment.
"I hope your hands are clean Ned," I said enquiringly.
"Of course, Mr Austen, sir. They are 'imasculate'!" He boldly stepped forward and handled them again.
He looked at me and smiled, then with a nod of his head beckoned me over to try myself. It did look most appealing. He stepped back and I pulled up my sleeves and grasped them in my hands and squeezed and rolled them around with my palms. I could not help but smile at the pleasant feeling it engendered.
Later in the forest, while out walking, I crept behind a tree to unburden my bladder and had not quite completed the task when I was startled by a slap upon the back and a cry of;
"'Ow da 'ell are ya?"
When I had made myself decent I turned to find a pair of bright blue eyes shining out of smiling face beneath a messy tangle of jet black hair.
"I am very well, thank you," I replied, " and yourself?"
"Couldna' be finer," came the reply. "Ah'm Woody Dicker, pleased ta meet ya," and wiping his hand upon his breeches held it out to me. It did not look that 'imasculate' to me, but I grasped it anyway.
"Wayne Austen," I smiled. "Charmed."
"Ah've just been ta da village fa some bread," he went on and then stopped and peered closely at me. "What's da on ya nose?"
I felt myself flush. How dreadful to be caught with one's breeches unfastened and mucus upon one's nose! I quickly wiped at the end and noticed a smudge of flour upon my fingertips. I laughed.
"I have been kneading dough balls," I confessed.
"Ah see," he winked " Ah kinda like da balls maself."