‘Well now, missus, that’s very generous of ’ee, very generous. The sort o’ thing the cap’n would approve, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so.’ He tugged his forelock once again and turned to the little group behind him. ‘Stan’ up, lads, stan’ up and pay yer respects to Wyldfire’s widow!’
He tugged his forelock yet again as Eve turned back to the carriage.
‘Back to Monkhurst, madam?’ asked Granby, holding open the door.
‘Yes, if you please. But we will stop at the church before we leave Hastings, I think.’
All Saints Church stood on the eastern edge of the town, high above the harbour and surrounded by its graveyard. As Eve climbed down from the carriage a shiver ran through her to think that this was where Nick might have been buried. The wind blew in from the coast, tugging at her bonnet and pressing the black veil to her face. She folded it back and breathed in the fresh sea air.
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