“Yes, m’m. That’s what I thought.”
“I’ll get my motorcycle and be right down.” Elizabeth was about to replace the telephone when George’s urgent voice stayed her hand.
“No, your ladyship. Not tonight. Without lights it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. We’ll have to wait for first light tomorrow.”
“She could well be dead by then.”
“I’m sorry, m’m. There’s not much else I can do. It ain’t safe for people to be tramping about in the dark.”
“It isn’t safe for Nellie to be in the clutches of those criminals, either, George.”
“I know that, m’m. But I can’t be responsible for sending unauthorized persons into danger. It’s more than I dare do.”
Elizabeth sighed. He was right. They would have to wait for morning and pray they weren’t too late. Another thought occurred to her, and once more the feeling of panic almost overwhelmed her. “George, Violet seems to have disappeared as well. You don’t think that has anything to do with Nellie’s kidnapping, do you?”
George sounded wary when he answered. “I really couldn’t say, m’m. I wouldn’t think so, but if she doesn’t turn up by the morning give me a ring and we’ll add her to the missing list.”
Elizabeth didn’t often cry, but right then she could have sat down and bawled. There just seemed no end to their troubles lately. If only Earl were there to reassure her. Under the circumstances, the chances of that were extremely unlikely.
She replaced the telephone and at the same moment heard the sound of a key in the back door. It opened, and Violet appeared in the doorway, her face flushed, wearing a print frock that Elizabeth couldn’t remember seeing before. Without giving her housekeeper a chance to open her mouth, Elizabeth demanded, “Where on earth have you been? Why didn’t you let me know you were going out? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been about you? This really is most inconsiderate of you, Violet, and not like you at all.”
The glow in Violet’s cheeks burned even more. Pursing her lips, she placed her handbag on the kitchen table before saying crisply, “I told that old fool to tell you I was going out. I suppose he forgot. I should have left a note.”
Somewhat mollified, Elizabeth did her best to curb her temper. Her fright, followed by her relief that Violet was not in the hands of some cutthroats, had materialized in a fit of anger, and she had no right to be angry at Violet for taking a night off duty.
“He told me you were going out,” she admitted, slumping onto a chair. “He just didn’t tell me where.”
“That’s because I didn’t tell him where I was going.” Violet peered more closely at her. “I’m sorry I worried you, Lizzie. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You might know I wouldn’t be anywhere where I could come to harm.”
Elizabeth passed a hand across her eyes. “No, you’re right. It’s just…” To her horror she heard her voice break and quickly took a deep breath.
Violet shrugged off the cardigan she wore and went into the pantry. She came out carrying a bottle of brandy in one hand and a glass in the other. “Here,” she said, pouring the golden liquid into the glass, “you look as if you need this right now.”
For once Elizabeth didn’t argue. She took the glass and cautiously sipped the drink, wincing as it burned her throat. “Nellie Smith’s been kidnaped,” she said, as she put the glass on the table.
Violet clutched her throat. “Oh, my.
“The three musketeers, apparently.” Wearily, Elizabeth recounted the story George had given her.
“And they don’t have any idea where they took her?” Violet demanded, when Elizabeth finished the tale.
“No, they don’t. The last thing they saw was a stolen Jeep racing down the coast road. She could be anywhere. In London now, for all we know. We’ll be organizing a search in the morning, but we don’t have much to go on.”
Violet sat down at the table. “Sorry, Lizzie. I know how worried you must be.”
“It’s not only that. It’s everything else. What with Brian Sutcliffe’s murder and-”
“Major Monroe?”
Elizabeth avoided her gaze. “Yes, I’m worried about him, too.”
Violet leaned forward and patted her hand. “I know. Cheer up, duck. He’ll be back, you’ll see.”
“I hope so.” Elizabeth made an effort to smile. “So tell me where you went and why you couldn’t tell Martin.”
Violet straightened her back. “I didn’t tell him because I wasn’t in the mood for his sarcastic remarks. I went out with Charlie Gibbons.”
Elizabeth stared at her. “Wally’s friend? How did that happen?”
Violet shrugged, looking more like a young girl than an elderly woman. “We got on really well at the wedding and he rang me up while you were out this afternoon and asked if I’d like to go to out with him for dinner in North Horsham. He brought his car down from Newcastle. That’s where he lives. So I cooked a stew for the Winterhalters and told Martin to serve them.” She looked worried. “I hope he did.”
As far as Elizabeth could remember, Violet had never had a serious relationship with a man. Judging from the starry-eyed look on her face, Charlie Gibbons seemed to have made a startling first impression on the contentious housekeeper. “Yes, he did,” she assured the housekeeper. “I imagine you had an enjoyable evening.”
“Dinner was very nice,” Violet said primly.
“I’m sure it was.” Elizabeth struggled to sound casual. “Are you seeing him again, or is he going back to Newcastle tomorrow?”
“No, he’s staying with Neville until Wally and Priscilla get back from their honeymoon, so he can help Priscilla move into Wally’s cottage. Fiona’s staying in Priscilla’s flat so she can help, too.”
“How nice for you,” Elizabeth murmured.
Violet gave her a sharp look. “You don’t approve.”
“It’s not up to me to approve or not. It’s not my business.” Elizabeth wrestled with her conscience for a full second before blurting out, “I just don’t want you to be hurt, that’s all. I mean, he’s going back to Newcastle sooner or later, isn’t he?”
Violet met her gaze squarely. “Newcastle is a good deal closer than America.”
Elizabeth slumped back in her chair. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
Violet’s hand closed over hers. “Lizzie, don’t worry about me. I’m at an age when I know all the pitfalls. I’m just having a bit of fun, that’s all. Don’t begrudge me that.”
“Oh, Violet.” Elizabeth clasped the bony hand in hers. “I would never begrudge you a second of happiness. These days one has to grasp every chance one can and live for the moment. Have all the fun you want. I wish you nothing but joy.”
“Thank you.” Violet looked close to tears. “I wish the same for you, dear Lizzie.” She got up from the table, saying brusquely, “I’m weary. I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”
Elizabeth fell asleep that night with a heavy heart and awoke the next morning with a sick feeling of dread that proved impossible to shake. Sadie and Polly joined them for breakfast, as did Martin, who seemed even grumpier than usual. Especially when Violet dumped a plate of porridge in front of him with a cheerful, “Eat up, you old buzzard. This’ll clear you out and make you feel a lot better in no time.”
Martin glared at her over his specs. “I do not require anything to
“I ain’t a servant,” Polly protested. “I’m Lady Elizabeth’s assistant.”
“And I’m her personal housemaid,” Sadie put in, “so put that in your pipe and smoke it.”
Martin looked at them both with distaste. “May I remind you that you are sharing a table with her ladyship, a practice I find quite deplorable I might add, and that such abominable language will not be tolerated in her ladyship’s presence.”
Sadie had the grace to look repentant. “Sorry, m’m.” she mumbled.
“I should think so.” Violet placed a bowl of porridge in front of the two girls. “Now eat up. It will give your mouths something to do other than torment Martin.”
Sadie looked up in surprise. “You’re in good spirits this morning, Vi. What’s up with you?”
“My name is Violet,” the housekeeper answered, “and nothing’s up with me. Now finish your meal.”
Sadie exchanged mystified glances with Polly. Elizabeth could hardly blame her. Normally Violet would have
