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circled it. It was process of elimination now, and one might as well start at the top.

Seven
    Tamsyn Burke had come into Daniel’s life unexpectedly, and all because of an opportunity for him to work with Hugh in a film. Despite their close friendship, Daniel and Hugh had never been cast in any production together since their days at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. Their interests, like their personalities, ran along dissimilar veins: Hugh preferred to act in historical pictures when the opportunity arose, while Daniel opted for contemporary films. From time to time, Hugh had mentioned the possibility of working together, but Daniel had privately thought himself far too competitive to star in any film opposite his best friend. He was surprised that Hugh would welcome it either.
    As they were establishing themselves in the public eye, they were known to be friends, but until Sir John Hodges contacted them, no one else had approached them for the same project. Daniel supposed this was inevitable. Although there existed an incredible wealth of acting talent on their small island, theirs was a field where nepotism mattered almost as much as ability.
    â€œCome down for the weekend, Daniel, so we can at least discuss the possibility,” Sir John had insisted when he rang. “Ashley-Hunt seems quite eager.”
    Daniel had decided that a break from London after the long, wet month of June was in order, as long as Hugh was so keen to go. They’d taken an early train to Paris, where they rented a car and drove to the Hodges’ home a few kilometers south of Lille. Daniel had been to France a number of times, most notably a couple of years earlier when he’d been involved with an attractive French chef from Perpignan. For one brief weekend he had considered settling down in the Pyrenees, where they would open a restaurant and raise enormous dogs. The relationship, while more serious than any previous one, eventually ran its course, and he smiled to himself when he remembered how he’d avoided the continent for a while after that. Regardless, it was good to be back. The landscape of northern France had awoken from the dormancy of winter and everything was in full bloom. Thick, verdant beech trees lined the road and wildflowers were scattered across the fields.
    They arrived mid-afternoon, pulling up to a late-nineteenth-century house. It was pink stucco adorned with weather-beaten green shutters and ivy, a crumbling, timeworn French maison. Sir John and his wife were perfect hosts. The food was excellent, their rooms comfortable, and there was no talk about films. As a matter of fact, a very satisfactory day passed without any mention of it at all, and when at last the subject did arise, it was more tempting than Daniel had expected.
    â€œI want to do Under the Greenwood Tree ,” Sir John told them over a good Pinot Noir in his library.
    â€œHardy,” Hugh said. “A vicar and a farmer vying for the same girl. Is that right?”
    â€œYes, that’s the one.”
    â€œWho’ll play the girl?”
    â€œI haven’t cast the girl yet, but we’re looking at a number of suitable actresses. It would have to be someone well known, to balance things out with the two of you.”
    â€œI don’t believe we’ve accepted just yet,” Daniel said, swirling the wine in his glass.
    â€œOh, but you will. Think of it. It will make the film. Everyone will want to see you together.”
    â€œI presume you’ll film in Dorset?” Hugh asked.
    â€œYes. I’ve already found a location. We stayed there a few weeks ago and discovered a rather unspoiled village that would be perfect. I have people there now making arrangements.”
    â€œI’m still not convinced it would be the best idea for us to be in the same film,” Daniel said.
    â€œWhy not?” Hugh asked. “We’ve talked about it before.”
    â€œTrue, but I didn’t really take it