When Alfie had described (Y/n)'s home in the Cotswolds as 'some fuckin great estate in tha countryside' he hadn't been kidding. Tommy, Arthur and John looking in amazement out of the car that had been sent to pick up not only the men from Birmingham, but also Alfie, from the train station.

The main house itself was quite a sight, it appearing more like a castle than anything else. Yet it was a large outbuilding nearby, that had really caught the men's eyes. John pulling the toothpick from between his lips, as he began to reel off a list of some of the cars that stood in front of the building.

"That's a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost Torpedo. A Napier, a Marmon Pace Car Speedster; a Mercedes Supercharged Type-S, and a fuckin Bugatti Royale......." Alfie chuckling at the sound of awe in the younger Shelby's voice, as they saw just a little of (Y/n)'s collection, while the chauffeur pulled the car to a halt outside the main building. The Londoner himself looking out, as a plane buzzed overhead.

"Looks like (Y/n) just got here......." The big man chuckling a little more, as he climbed out of the car. Servants making their way down the long front staircase to collect the visitor's luggage.

"Mister Solomons........." A voice came. Alfie and the others turning to be greeted by a rather stern looking older man, dressed in a butler's outfit.

"Miss (Y/n) has asked that you and the other gentlemen meet her on the back lawn, for refreshments." The butler continued, before gesturing for the group to follow him. Tommy giving his brothers the nod, before they caught up with the older man, and the Londoner.

                                                        >>----------------------------------<<

"Alfred......." (Y/n) called out, as she made her way across the lawn to where a table with glasses, and an ice bucket within which sat a bottle of champagne, had been set up. The butler taking the bottle and opening it, as she pulled off her gloves and flying helmet. The man from Camden Town admiring the monoplane that stood out from its green surroundings thanks to it bright red livery.

"What do you think of the old thing? Rather a handsome beast, wouldn't you say.......?" (Y/n) asked, as she caught the Jewish gangster looking at the plane that she had just landed. The pilot nodding in thanks as the butler handed her a drink.

"I would say I would take you up for a spin, but I am afraid the Handley Page only has room for one......." She continued. Chuckling to herself, as Alfie seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"And the Messrs Shelby. I am so glad that you could come. Jamesson here has made sure that there are rooms for all of you, and you are of course invited to the little soiree that I am holding this evening; then in the morning, after breakfast, I will give you a tour of my workshop before I have Taylor drive you back to the station." (Y/n) explained, as she turned to the three other men; eyeing Tommy, as he took a long drag on his cigarette.

Since she had met the boys from Birmingham just three days before, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about the one called Thomas. Alfie had made mention of him before she had made her way down to Surrey, to test out in the car. The daughter of the flying ace intrigued by the information that the Londoner had given her. Yet it wasn't until she had actually laid her eyes on him, that she had realised how truly fascinating he was. Her invite to the Cotswolds more so that she could see him again, than any interest in the Hudson that she might get to drive.

"Well........" (Y/n) drinking down the last of the champagne from her glass.

"Please feel free to finish off the bottle. There are plenty more for this evening's celebrations; and once you are ready, Jamesson will show you your rooms. But for now, I will leave you. Have to get myself ready to receive the rest of my guests." She added, giving Tommy a smile, before placing a kiss to Alfie's cheek and then making her way towards the house.

"The celebrations.........what are they for..........?" Tommy called out, as their host reached the bay doors that lead to what would have once conceivably been an orangery.

"Oh, didn't Alfie tell you..........? It's my birthday..........." (Y/n) replied, shooting Tommy a wink, before leaving the men with her butler.

                                                             >>--------------------------------<<

Tommy looked out of the window, over the well-maintained gardens that lay beyond the driveway that led to the house. If this (Y/n) wasn't, as Alfie had said, gentry, then she was sure as hell a rich woman, thanks to her father's shrewd business dealings. The head of the Shelby family firm wondering if she had inherited his business acumen, as well as his love for machines.

When he had first met her, he had to admit that she was quite the most beautiful of women; her features, eyes, striking to say the least. Yet he had still been less than convinced that she would be competitive in the Hudson; or he had been, until she had clocked the time he had seen on the stopwatch. Tommy having to admit that he had been wrong, and Alfie had been right; the last few days spent listening to Arthur tell him why he didn't think that (Y/n), that a woman was the best one to drive their car, though Tommy had already made his mind up. And if Alfie was willing to stick out his neck for her, then so was he; despite the knowledge that his oldest brother would continue to protest.

"So........what do ya think..........?" Tommy turning around to see that Alfie had made his way into his room, without him hearing him. Tommy smiling slightly as he watched the Londoner look uncomfortable in his tuxedo.

"I want ta see tha workshop." The head of the Peaky Blinders simply replied, before butting out his cigarette, and pushing the silver cigarette case into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. Alfie just rolling his eyes and following after the man from Birmingham, out of his room. The pair meeting Arthur and John on the landing, before making their way down the long flight of stairs and into the party, which was already underway.