‘Poor Matthew. It was the same when he volunteered. It was only because Martha Willoughby and her bitch of a sister made loud remarks in church about cowards and that Major Langley . . .’ She paused. ‘God – I’ll never forgive that man! His speechifying altered all our lives. He whipped up such patriotism in his speech at a rally in the town, well, poor Matthew, he couldn’t resist it, could he? If something was out of his reach or denied him, he wanted it all the more. At first I was that challenge, whilst Beth was always willing. When he had married me, he had me whenever he wanted. I never said no. Maybe,’ she mused thoughtfully, ‘it would have been better if I had said no now and then.’

She let out a long sigh and continued. In the circle of Jonathan’s arms, his cheek against her hair, Esther was quietly remembering just how her marriage had been, seeing it clearly for the first time. For now, in this moment in the dunes, she had learnt the difference.

‘Matthew seemed to change. I know he was bitter about the farm and why I’d married him. He knew that it was really me that Mr Marshall gave the tenancy to – not him in his own right but only because he was my husband. It sort of – lessened his manhood. In his own eyes, if no one else’s.’

‘That’s understandable,’ Jonathan murmured.

‘Before we married, when I held out against him, all he could think of was getting me, even if it meant having to marry me. When at last he’d got me, he began to hanker after Beth again. I think he had some funny idea that Beth would still be his even after he’d married me, would always be his. So when she married Eland and was out of Matthew’s reach, it made him want her all the more. Then, of course, she had Matthew’s baby.’

She felt Jonathan’s whole body stiffen and she raised her head to look up at him as he asked, ‘Little Danny is Matthew’s son?’

‘Yes.’

‘I – see,’ he said slowly, trying to comprehend how it must affect the close-knit community of Fleethaven Point. ‘It must be difficult for you – for everyone.’

Esther shivered suddenly. ‘I’ll have to get back to the farm.’

She got up from the sand and held out her hands to him. ‘Let’s try and find our way back to the road and this time I’m keeping tight hold of you,’ she laughed artfully, ‘in more ways than one.’

They stood together for a moment, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes, sharing again that special intimacy.

‘You’ll come to the farm tonight?’

‘Esther, I don’t think . . .’

She placed her forefinger against his lips to still his objection, and whispered urgently, ‘Promise me you’ll come?’