quite sure something ghastly had happened to you. Are you hurt? Were you in an accident? Did you get lost? What on earth
Martin brushed imaginary dust from his trousers, then straightened as much as his bowed shoulders would allow. “I’m not at liberty to say, madam.”
Taken aback, Elizabeth said tartly, “Martin Chezzlewit, you have been missing for an entire night. Half the village has been out searching for you-and still are, by all accounts. Violet and myself, as well as Sadie and Polly, were out until after midnight looking for you. You have worried us half to death and now you calmly say you can’t tell me where you were or what you were doing?”
“That is correct, madam.” He glanced across the hallway to the grandfather clock. “I do believe lunch is ready. Perhaps we should retire to the kitchen before Violet has a persnickety fit.” He turned his back on her and began shuffling in his snail’s-pace gait toward the kitchen steps.
Greatly annoyed, Elizabeth followed him. Having endured so much agony over the past twenty-four hours, she was determined to find out exactly what Martin was up to, and why he refused to talk about it.
Judging from the raised voices in the kitchen, Sadie and Polly had already arrived for their meals. Rather than wait for Martin to make the tedious climb down the stairs, Elizabeth passed him and reached the kitchen ahead of him.
She pushed open the door and the voices abruptly ceased. Violet busied herself at the stove, while Polly sat at the table with Sadie. Both girls jumped to their feet as Elizabeth entered.
She answered their greetings then turned to Violet, whose concentration was on the stew she was spooning onto the dinner plates. “Did Martin tell you where he was last night?”
Violet shook her head without turning around. “Don’t talk to me about that old fool. Gone all night he was, and not a word as to where he’s been. Won’t say anything, except he’s ‘not at liberty to say.’ ”
She’d uttered the last words in a high-pitched voice that was supposed to mimic Martin’s quavery one. Polly giggled, while Sadie’s face seemed drawn and tense.
“Well,” Elizabeth said, taking her seat at the table, “he will have to tell us sooner or later. He can’t expect us to simply ignore his absence, when it caused so much fuss. What am I going to tell George, or the people who were out looking for him? Can you imagine what Rita Crumm will say when she finds out he’s back and not a word about where he’s been?”
Violet sniffed. “Rita Crumm would make a storm in a teacup about anything you did, as you well know. I wouldn’t go worrying your head about her.”
“Yeah, m’m,” Polly said, reaching for a jagged slice of bread that looked as if it had been hacked off the loaf. “That Rita’s jealous of you, that’s all. Everybody knows that.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I really don’t know what she has to be jealous about. What with all the responsibilities of taking care of the estate and the tenants, and all the repairs that need doing to the manor, the dreadful crimes that have been committed in the village, and the incompetence of the constabulary…”
She paused for breath and Violet finished for her, “Not to mention a certain American major who hasn’t been around lately.”
That most of all, Elizabeth thought gloomily.
“Even with all that, m’m,” Polly said, watching Violet carry two steaming plates to the table, “I reckon Rita Crumm would change places with you in a moment.”
“That woman needs to be taken down a peg or two.” Violet placed a plate in front of Elizabeth. “Just because she formed the Housewives League doesn’t make her a blinking god. You’d think she was winning the war all by herself, to hear her talk. Makes me sick, she does.”
“The Housewives League.” Polly made a sound of disgust in her throat. “That lot cause more trouble than Hitler’s bombs do. What with their watching for submarines and keeping guard on the cliffs with their pots and pans, hunting for spies, poking their noses into everything, and messing everything up.”
“They’ve done good things, too,” Elizabeth reminded her. “They’ve knitted woollies for the military, collected tinfoil, kept victory gardens, and held bazaars and fetes to raise money for planes and ammunition.”
The door swung open just then and Martin crept in, sending everyone into silence. They all sat, staring at him expectantly, while he shuffled over to the table and took his seat.
Without a word Violet dished up some more stew and put it down in front of him. No one spoke as he lifted his knife and fork and began eating.
The silence seemed to stretch into hours, then for the first time since Elizabeth had sat down at the table, Sadie spoke, saying abruptly, “I haven’t heard from Joe.”
It was the last thing Elizabeth expected to hear, and Sadie’s tone of voice warned her that the girl was as frantic about her boyfriend as she herself was about Earl.
Very carefully, she put down her knife and fork and dabbed at her mouth with her serviette. “With everything that’s going on in France, I would be very surprised if we heard anything just yet. You know how secretive they have to be about everything.”
Sadie avoided her gaze. “Yes, m’m. I suppose that’s it.”
Elizabeth’s heart started thumping with apprehension. “I don’t suppose…” Aware of Violet’s sharp gaze, she let her voice trail off.
“No, m’m. I haven’t heard nothing about no one.”
Violet started talking just then, preventing Elizabeth from saying anything else. She sat quietly, eating her stew without tasting a single bite. All her thoughts and prayers were concentrated on Earl and his safe return. Right at that moment, that was all that mattered to her.
CHAPTER 5
Elizabeth spent the afternoon in the office catching up on the correspondence that seemed to have piled up over the past few days. With Polly’s help she answered requests, complaints, and questions, juggled bills, and compiled the agenda for the next town council meeting.
Writing down Captain Carbunkle’s name, she remembered her promise to call in on the newlyweds. First thing in the morning, she promised herself. It would help keep her mind off the problem of Earl and his whereabouts.
Violet was alone that evening when Elizabeth went down to the kitchen for supper. The moment she saw her housekeeper’s face, she knew something was up. For a dreadful moment she thought Martin had gone missing again.
Especially when Violet hissed at her, “That silly old goat needs his head examined.”
Elizabeth sat down heavily on the chair. “What now?”
Violet shook her head, waved a hand in the air, and appeared lost for words.
Alarmed, Elizabeth said sharply, “For heaven’s sake, Violet. Spit it out. What is it?”
“It’s Martin,” Violet spluttered.
Having already guessed that, Elizabeth curled her fingers in frustration. “Is he missing again?”
“No, he’s in his room. He’ll be here any minute for his supper.”
“Then you’d better hurry up and tell me what’s got you in such a dither.”
“I found a pair of knickers in his room.”
Stunned, Elizabeth could only stare at her.
“I went in there this afternoon.” Violet picked up a large butcher’s knife from the kitchen counter and began furiously chopping a beetroot into thin slices. “The old fool refused to tell me where he’d been all night, and I thought there might be something in his room that would tell me.”
Bloodred juice spurted across the chopping board and onto the floor. Ignoring it, Violet went on chopping. “Right there on his dresser.
Elizabeth shut her mouth, swallowed, then said calmly, “I’m sure there’s an explanation-”
“Oh, there’s an explanation all right.” Violet reached for another beetroot and began chopping again. “He’s gone blinking bonkers, that’s the explanation. He’s the one been stealing the drawers off the line outside. I told you this
