The rain had finished, and wind had sprung up to send away the mist and open the sky. As a lad, I'd loved the enormous skies arching over the farmland that rolled to miles of marshes and gray sea. This was the land of my childhood, where I'd played among the tall marsh grass and hidden in fishing boats so I could go out to sea with the men. The fishermen had taught me to fish, and I'd brought the spoils home to our cook, who was careful not to tell my father where she'd obtained them.

I'd roamed fearlessly, brought home when I strayed too far by farmers, villagers, fishermen, or the publican at Parson's Point. I'd found many ways to elude the nannies, tutors, horse masters, or whatever teacher of the moment my father saw fit to employ. None stayed long, and he'd always try to cheat them out of their fee.

It was in this land that I'd learned the lure of the fairer sex, the first in the form of a barmaid in Blakeney the summer I'd been fifteen. She'd been older than me-sixteen-and I'd thought her the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen.

I'd reveled in the conquest until I returned to school at Michaelmas, to later learn that said young woman was quite loose with her favors. Ours would hardly be the love of legend. She'd married at eighteen and gone to Suffolk with her husband, and was there now for all I knew.

Cooper said nothing on the road, a man with a habit of silence. I who never liked talking for the sake of it started to find him restful.

We went through the gate to the weed-choked drive. Cooper glanced about askance as he climbed over bracken on the way to the house. A cart stood in front of it, the horse let loose to graze as he liked. I dismounted, removed my horse's saddle and bridle, and let it join the carthorse.