couch. “I quite admire those young ladies for volunteering to work on the land. It isn’t easy work, by any means.”
“Maybe not,” Sheila muttered as she crossed the room, “but they get well paid and well fed, and they’re away from all that bombing. That’s a lot to be thankful for, I’d say. Too bad they can’t appreciate that.” She opened the door that led to her narrow hallway. “I won’t be a minute, Lady Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth nodded. She needed time to think about the questions she wanted to ask the girls. She very much wanted to know the name of the person Amelia had spent time with the night before. Surely at least one of the girls should be able to tell her.
Idly she picked up the woman’s magazine from the table in front of her and began leafing through it. Her glance fell on a picture of a man and woman seated at a long table. Each of them held a brimming glass of wine, and candlelight flickered between them as they stared into each other’s eyes.
As she gazed at the picture with an intense fascination, the images changed. She imagined she saw herself seated at that table, staring into the eyes of Earl Monroe.
With a muttered exclamation she slapped the pages closed. She absolutely, definitely, positively could not entertain these silly notions about the major. He would be so embarrassed if he had the slightest inclination that she looked upon him in a certain favorable light.
She would be hideously mortified if he detected one hint that she was feeling anything other than businesslike toward him. The whole idea was so ludicrous she would have laughed out loud if it hadn’t been for the tiny flicker of excitement deep inside her heart.
CHAPTER4
Polly paused at the bottom of the back stairs. The door opened out onto the courtyard, and she could hear an engine revving up outside. Her heart raced to keep up with the sound. Sam could be just a few feet away from her right now. Just one quick look, that’s all she wanted. It had been so long since she’d seen him, she could hardly remember what he looked like.
Obeying the irresistible urge, she dragged off her apron, undid the top two buttons of her white blouse, hitched her dark blue skirt up a couple of inches under the wide black belt she wore, then opened the door and peeked outside.
Her stomach did a double somersault when she saw the driver of the Jeep. By some miracle it was Sam, and his profile was every bit as smashing as she remembered. Her excitement propelled her forward, and before she really knew what she was doing, she’d bounced outside into the sunlight.
He saw her right away and flashed her a grin. “Well, hi, beautiful! Where have you been hiding?”
He’d called her beautiful. Entranced, Polly gazed happily at him, oblivious to the whistles and catcalls echoing across the courtyard from Sam’s appreciative comrades. She wondered if it was all right to call a man beautiful, because right then, with the sun glinting on the badges on his uniform, and his teeth gleaming white in his dark, suntanned face, he was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever come close to in her life. Better than any film star she’d ever seen. Just watching him smile like that made her feel like floating all the way up to the clouds.
“What’s the matter, honey? Cat got your tongue?”
She snapped out of her trance. If she wanted him to go on thinking she was a twenty-year-old woman, she’d better start behaving like one. In her best imitation of Ava Gardner, she tossed her head. “I was just wondering how long you were going to sit there making all that noise.”
More whoops and whistles greeted her comment. Sam winked at her. “We’re on our way out, babe. Sorry if we’re disturbing you.”
“Well, I do have a lot of work to do. It’s hard to concentrate on the bills and everything with all this noise going on.”
Sam looked around at his leering companions and climbed out of the Jeep. “Move on out. Wait for me at the end of the drive.”
“Hey, Sam, no fraternizing with the natives!” one of the grinning Yanks called out as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“Got any more like you at home?” another one yelled, and the rest joined in with various remarks that heated her cheeks.
“Get out of here,” Sam growled at them.
As the roar of the Jeep faded away down the long, curving drive, Polly suddenly felt shy. She stared down at her serviceable black shoes and wished she’d worn the high-heeled sandals she’d splashed her coupons on last month.
“What are you doing out here?” Sam asked. “I thought you worked in the office at the other end of the house.”
“I do,” Polly said, crossing her fingers behind her. “I had to run an errand, that’s all. I’m on my way back there now.”
Sam nodded, his brown eyes intent on her face. “Haven’t seen you around much.”
That’s because she’d spent her time avoiding all of them, Polly thought wistfully. She had to talk to Lady Elizabeth again and beg her to give her a job in the office. The last thing in the world she wanted was for Sam to find out she was only a housemaid. “What happened to Clay?” she asked, more to change the subject than anything. “He told Marlene he’d meet her at the pub, but he never turned up.” It was a mild rebuke of sorts. Marlene had met Clay the same night she’d met Sam, and neither one of the men had kept their promise to meet them down the pub the next night.
Sam’s gaze drifted over to the beech trees lining the drive. “Sorry about that. Clay didn’t come back from a mission. I didn’t feel like going into town without him.”
Polly felt as if someone had slammed a fist in her stomach. “Oh, blimey, I’m so sorry. Poor Clay. Doesn’t anyone know what happened to him?”
Sam shrugged. “I saw him bail out. If he’s lucky he got picked up by the Resistance. If not, he’ll spend the rest of the war in a POW camp.”
Tears clouded her eyes, and she blinked them back. “I’ll tell Marlene. She’ll be so sad. She really liked him.”
“Yeah. He was a nice guy.”
In spite of the warmth from the sun, her insides felt like they’d been dipped in ice. It could be Sam the next time. She couldn’t bear to think of him locked up in a prison camp. “Are you going up today?”
“Probably.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going.” His gaze shifted to her face again. “Wanna meet me at the pub tonight?”
She nodded eagerly. “I’ll try. About eight o’clock?”
“If I can make it.”
He’d said the words casually enough, but she knew what they meant. What he really meant was
Just then a shrill voice screeched from behind her, “Polly? What in the world are you doing?”
“I’ll see you then,” Polly said hurriedly and waved her hand before spinning around.
Violet marched toward her with a grim look on her pinched face, Polly’s discarded apron flapping in her hand.
Polly held her breath until she heard the crunch of Sam’s footsteps gradually taper off in the distance. Violet stood waiting a few feet away, with arms crossed and a scowl as dark as thunderclouds.
“I came out to see what all the noise was about,” Polly said, darting past the birdlike woman to the door.
“Oh? And did your apron just happen to fall off on the way out?” The housekeeper brandished the white cloth in her face. “And how did your skirt get all bunched up like that? Your knees are showing. Blinking disgraceful, that’s what I call it.”
“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Polly tugged at her skirt, then snatched the offending article of clothing from Violet’s skinny hand. “I was just being polite, that’s all.”
“Hmmph!” Violet snorted. “If you ask me, there’s entirely too much of this sort of thing going on. I knew there’d
