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obscuring everything. And at this particular twilight hour the salty smell of the sea was carried in on the light breeze, reminding everyone how close the English Channel was.

      In olden days the locals had latched their windows at this time of day, believing that the mists caused the ague; others had fastened their shutters tight because they were certain ghosts were at large on the Marsh.

      Vicky generally laughed at these old wives’ tales which were still told to whomever would listen, and when it came to the mention of ghosts she usually muttered under her breath to Will, ‘More like the local smugglers winding their way inland from the sea, hauling their tobacco, their wines and brandy from France.’ He agreed with her, fully believed the smugglers still plied their dubious trade here.

      This afternoon, as he strode along the flagged path which led from the back terrace to the gardens, he could not help thinking how beautiful the landscape was even on this cold February Saturday. It was growing late, was almost dusk already, and the grey sky of early afternoon had changed, darkened, and was filled with rafts of fiery red and purple along the horizon. Or was that the sea? Some of the low-lying Marsh beyond the gardens was well below sea level, and frequently it seemed to him that the sea in the distance was high in the sky. A most curious illusion.

      ‘Will, Will! Wait for me!’

      He swung around at the sound of Ned’s voice, and stood waiting as his friend hurried down the path at a fast pace.

      ‘Why didn’t you ask me to come for a walk with you?’ Ned demanded, peering at Will. ‘Or did you feel like being alone? Am I intruding?’

      Linking his arm through Ned’s, Will shook his head, drew closer to his friend as they walked on together. ‘I thought I’d better leave you to your own devices after lunch. You seemed so upset this morning, and were rather silent at lunchtime.’

      ‘I was, and with good reason, don’t you think?’

      ‘Yes, I do. Anyway, I knew you were up in your room alone, since Lily and Vicky took the horse and trap into the village after you disappeared. I just saw them coming back and so I ducked out here.’

      ‘For a man who doesn’t like rural life, who protests so much about country living, and who prefers the gaiety, bright lights and razzle dazzle of London, you certainly seem rather attached to Stonehurst,’ Ned remarked, sneaking a surreptitious glance at Will as they headed down the path together.

      ‘I have grown attached to it, actually, perhaps because I helped Vicky bludgeon it into shape, and because we shared something rather special, a unique relationship during that time, just after Miles died. I was fourteen or fifteen, thereabouts, and we worked well together and we bonded. She has always reminded me that I helped her to combat her grief. But to be honest, Ned, I wouldn’t want to live in the country permanently. I like to visit Vicky because we’re so close. I’m also fascinated by the Marsh. There’s something curious about that land out there that spells mystery to me.’

      Ned laughed. ‘Ah yes, I do understand. It appeals to the young adventurous lad that still exists inside you…stories of smugglers, and baccy and brandy-running, and God knows what else. But I understand what you mean, and I also appreciate that the Romney Marsh has a genuine history to it.’ Peering ahead as they came to the edge of the lawns, Ned added, ‘And there’s romance there, too…a fair wind for France tonight, and all that, eh?’

      Will had the good grace to smile, knowing full well that Ned was teasing him. ‘Well, perhaps you’re right, perhaps that’s so, the romance of it,’ he agreed. Then he changed the subject. In a concerned voice he said, ‘You are all right now, Ned, aren’t you?’

      ‘I suppose I am. However, I must admit I thought Lily was being as thick as a plank earlier today. And like you, Will, I have always considered her to be, well, rather smart, a clever woman.’

      ‘I agree, I mean about her being somewhat dense this morning. On the other hand, I believe she’s intelligent, bright. She’s also thirty-two and an experienced woman of the world, wouldn’t you say? But you know, I remember now that Vicky once told me Lily thinks she’s an expert on the law, knows a lot about legalities, legal proceedings and such, because she was married to a solicitor for a number of years. Obviously she believes she’s got one up on all of us, that she is the expert.’

      Ned said, in a soft but emphatic voice, ‘I’ve really tried to place my grief in its own place, deep within myself. It is there, and it always will be, but it’s buried now, deep in my heart. I have had to do this in order to go on, Will. I must concentrate on the present and the future. My past and those tragic deaths will always be with me. However, I cannot allow feelings of grief to dominate me. I must move forward, and I know you understand this, Will.’

      ‘I do, and yes, I think that Lily did probe too much. But she wasn’t trying to hurt you intentionally, she was just being…assertive and she probably thought she was showing concern.’ He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. ‘After all, she’s a woman, and who on earth can understand those adorable but tantalizing creatures, understand what they do and say? Not I, for one.’

      Edward was silent. The two men walked on, content to be in each other’s company. They were, in a sense, like brothers, and their bond of friendship was true and strong. It would last a lifetime, though neither of them knew that.

      When they had left the lawns behind and were standing close to the seafront, Will suddenly murmured, ‘Fair wind for France indeed, Ned. Just look over there, the lights of the French coastline are shining very brightly, are so visible. What a marvellously clear bright night it is.’

      ‘With no mist off the Marsh,’ Ned responded. ‘And soon there’ll be a full moon, mark my words. Not a good night for our smugglers.’

      ‘You’re right. But listen, did you know that the Romney Marsh is as famous for its smugglers as the Cornish coast?’

      ‘I did.’ Now turning slightly to the right, Ned continued, ‘Let’s go and sit on that wall for a moment or two. I need to talk to you about something.’

      Will nodded his assent. Bundling their scarves and coats around themselves, the two men sat down, staring out towards the encroaching sea. All of a sudden it had grown truly dark; the stars glittered, and far off, in the distance, the Dungeness lighthouse flashed, its wide beams bouncing off the water onto the land and back onto the water.

      Knowing that Edward Deravenel would speak in his own time, and only when he was ready, Will waited, wondering what this was about.

      At last Ned said, ‘What of Oxford, Will? You haven’t gone back there to continue your studies. You’re long overdue.’

      ‘Oh, but I’m not going back.’

      ‘Not ever?’ Ned’s surprise was evident in his tone of voice.

      ‘That’s correct. I went up to Oxford, saw everyone, bade my farewells, after I had explained my reasons for not finishing my education.’

      ‘And your father? Isn’t he angry?’ Ned probed curiously.

      ‘He was, but only momentarily. You know, the old man gave up on me a long time ago, and I suppose he knew it was futile to argue with me because my mind was made up.’

      ‘Did you go to Leicestershire to see him?’

      Will shook his head. ‘It just so happened my father was in town on business last week, and we dined at his club. He was annoyed at first, and it was a bit of a sticky wicket for me, but in the end he came around to my way of thinking. He agreed I could lead my life as I wanted, and he actually wished me well. He was a brick really, Ned, since he hasn’t withdrawn my monthly allowance.’

      ‘That was generous of him,’ Ned murmured. Frowning, he then asked, ‘But, Will, what are your plans? Do you still wish to join a firm in the City?’

      ‘No, I don’t…’ Will’s voice trailed off,

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