Wrestling with the problem gave her a headache. Feeling incredibly weary and out of sorts, she cruised up the driveway and into the courtyard.
The moment she turned the corner of the building she saw the jeeps and her heart sang. Her problems fading, she hastily wheeled her motorcycle into the stable then hurried around to the kitchen door. There was no time to wait for Martin to open the front door, assuming he was even there to open it. All she could think about now was seeing Earl again.
She burst into the kitchen, realizing as she did so that she was late for supper. Violet was at the sink, scrubbing violently at a pot with a stiff brush.
Surprised to see her housekeeper engaged in such a menial task, Elizabeth threw her handbag down on a chair, saying brightly, “Shouldn’t Sadie be doing that?”
“She should,” Violet said crisply, without turning around, “but she’s off somewhere and I needed to keep my hands busy. You’re late, by the way.”
“I’m sorry.” Elizabeth glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “I had to stop by… somewhere, and it took longer than I expected.” She looked at the stove, where something that smelled very good simmered in a saucepan. “I’m hungry now, though.”
“There’s soup and there’s bread.” Violet tossed her head in the direction of the table. “Sit down and I’ll get some for you.”
Something in Violet’s voice alerted Elizabeth. She sat down at the table and folded her hands. “Violet? Is something wrong?”
Violet threw the brush on the draining board with a loud clatter and turned to the stove. “Those blasted Germans,” she muttered. “They’ve really gone and done it this time.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Gone and done what?”
Violet turned to face her, and Elizabeth was alarmed to see her eyes swollen and red, as if she’d been crying. “They’ve got a new kind of bomb,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s a terrible thing. It flies without a pilot, all by itself. Then, when it gets over London, the engine stops and the airplane falls to the ground and blows up.”
“Oh, my,” Elizabeth murmured, the cold feeling in her chest beginning to spread throughout her body. “How awful.”
Violet sniffed, and cleared her throat. “They’ve already started sending them over. They’re falling on London, flattening houses and blowing big holes in the streets. The explosions are terrible, so they say.”
Elizabeth carefully watched her housekeeper’s face. Something else was wrong. Something she didn’t want to think about. A sort of premonition that had been simmering in her mind, like the soup on the stove, ever since she’d left Iris Morgan’s house.
“Anyway,” Violet went on, “the Americans have been going over to Germany and bombing the factories. Trying to stop them, they are. They’re trying to shoot them down, too, but they say a lot of the buzz bombs will get through.”
“Buzz bombs?”
“That’s what they’re calling them, because of the buzzing noise they make. They sound just like an angry swarm of bees, they say.”
“How frightening.”
“Yes, it is.” Violet gulped. “Lizzie, your major went over there today.”
Now she knew. She felt like crying but her eyes were dry. Her mind refused to believe what she knew she was about to hear. “What are you trying to tell me, Violet?”
“He made it back to base, Lizzie… but-” Her voice broke. “He crashed when he landed. They don’t know… I don’t know if he’s…”
She had to be strong. She’d known all along this could happen, and in some ways she’d been prepared for it. But oh, God, no one had told her how much it would hurt. No one had told her the pain could obliterate everything from her mind, except the realization of how much she might have lost.
“Where is he?” Her voice seemed unrecognizable, even to her.
“The hospital in North Horsham. Lizzie, I-”
“I’m going there.” She surged to her feet, heedless of Violet’s protests.
“You can’t, Lizzie. You can’t ride that motorcycle all that way in the dark. Wait until tomorrow. You’ll have better news then.”
Elizabeth headed for the door, afraid to trust her voice to answer Violet.
“You haven’t had your dinner yet,” Violet said, her voice rising. “Besides-”
Already halfway up the stairs, Elizabeth never heard the end of the sentence.
Outside in the cool night air, her mind cleared somewhat, and as she made her way around to the stable and passed the jeeps in the courtyard, she made a quick decision. Traveling by jeep would be faster and a good deal safer than the motorcycle in the dark.
She was tempted to try driving it herself, but soon dismissed that idea. After one memorable attempt to drive one of the jeeps, which had ended with her overturning the vehicle, she had avoided getting behind the wheel again, despite Earl’s attempt to persuade her to allow him to teach her.
As luck would have it, several of the officers were getting ready to depart as she arrived at their quarters. Despite all they had been through, and the fact that this might be the only respite they would get from the horrors for some time to come, to a man they enthusiastically volunteered to take her to North Horsham.
So adamant were they, that it took several tosses of a coin before two officers were elected to go, both of them assuring her they would much rather be visiting Major Monroe in North Horsham than getting drunk at the Arms.
Leading the two men down the stairs, Elizabeth found their clattering footsteps reassuring. She would not have wanted to make that journey alone, no matter how anxious she was to find out about Earl’s condition.
She was even more gratified when the rest of the officers, instead of heading off in the opposite direction to the Tudor Arms, followed them all the way into North Horsham in a small convoy of jeeps.
Crowding into the admissions area of the large hospital, the men caused quite a commotion, until a stern sister in starched skirts arrived on the scene and sternly ordered them to be quiet or leave.
The men ushered Elizabeth forward, then stood silent as she asked the sister the fateful question. “I’m inquiring about Major Earl Monroe. I understand he was brought into this hospital sometime today.”
The sister’s face took on a grave expression that terrified Elizabeth. “He’s in critical condition. The doctors are hopeful they can save him, but that’s all I can tell you at the moment.”
Weak with relief at the news he was still alive, Elizabeth said quickly, “I want to see him.”
“I’m afraid he’s not allowed visitors. He needs to rest.” She took a watch from her pocket and looked at it. “If you’ll excuse me…”
“I won’t disturb him. I just-” Elizabeth paused, afraid her voice would betray her.
“He’s heavily sedated,” the sister said, looking impatient. “He won’t know you’re there.”
One of the officers stepped forward, holding his cap in his hands. “This is Lady Elizabeth Hartleigh Compton,” he said, his voice strident and formal. “She is responsible for Major Monroe’s welfare. I must insist that you allow her into the major’s room. He would want her there.”
The sister looked from him back to Elizabeth. “Oh, I didn’t realize… excuse me, your ladyship. Let me speak to the doctor and I’ll let you know as soon as I get his permission.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth watched her hurry off, then turned to the officer who had come so gallantly to her rescue. “That was very kind of you, Captain Crawford. I’m afraid I’m not thinking very clearly. While I’m about it, I’d like to thank you for bringing me here tonight.” She looked around at the solemn faces surrounding her. “I’d like to thank all of you for coming.”
“Sure, sure,” the men murmured, looking embarrassed. “Anything for the major.”
“Since the major can’t have visitors,” the captain said, gesturing at the door, “why don’t you guys take off and find a bar somewhere? I’ll stay with her ladyship until she’s ready to go home. I’ll catch you up on any news later. There’s nothing you can do if you stay, anyway.”
