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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.”

It took some persuading on the captain’s part, but eventually the men reluctantly drifted off, leaving Elizabeth alone with him.

Seated in the quiet waiting room, she felt inordinately weary. Earl was alive for now, but she had no idea the extent of his injuries, or indeed, if he would pull through. She felt a tremendous sense of urgency, afraid that if she didn’t see him soon, she could be too late. She couldn’t bear the thought of never having the chance to say good-bye.

“Don’t worry,” Captain Crawford said quietly. “The major’s a tough guy. He’ll make it.”

“I hope you’re right.” She gave him a wan smile. “This is very kind of you, Captain, but it really isn’t necessary for you to sit with me. I feel guilty keeping you away from your friends.”

The officer waved away her comments with an impatient hand. “Earl’s a great guy. I’m sure every one of those guys would rather be here than passing the time in a bar.”

Her throat threatened to close on her and she quickly swallowed. “Tell me about your home, Captain. You must have family waiting for you in America.”

“I do, and if it’s okay with you, your ladyship, I’d like it if you called me Duane.”

This time her smile was wider. “Of course, Duane. Now tell me about your hometown.”

For the next forty minutes she listened to Duane Crawford’s account of his life in Texas, only half aware of what he said, her attention distracted by her gnawing worry about Earl.

If the captain noticed her inattentiveness, he was much too polite to show it, and she made a mental note to express her gratitude later, when she was more composed.

He was telling her about a parade that was held every July the Fourth in his hometown, and how he and his brother rode in a cart pulled by two horses, when he broke off abruptly in mid sentence.

Following his gaze, Elizabeth felt a leap of apprehension when she saw the sister heading toward them.

“Here comes the old battle-axe,” Duane Crawford muttered. “Guess we’ll find out now how bad Earl really is.”

CHAPTER 15

“Madam has gone to North Horsham,” Violet said as she put the last cup and saucer away in the kitchen cupboard. “I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Sadie glanced up at the clock. “It’s almost ten o’clock. Did she take her motorcycle? How’s she going to ride it in the dark?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m only the housekeeper.” Violet slammed the door shut.

“She must be so upset. She shouldn’t be riding in that state-”

“It’s not up to us to tell Madam what she should or shouldn’t do.”

“You do it all the time,” Sadie pointed out.

“That’s my business, not yours.” Violet glared at her. “Why aren’t you in bed, anyhow?”

Sadie plopped down on a chair next to the table. “Why aren’t you? You’re always in bed by this time.”

“I’m waiting up for her ladyship.” Violet started cleaning the stove with a dishrag.

“I cleaned that once already,” Sadie commented.

“Well, I’m cleaning it again.”

“All right, all right, keep your flipping hair on.” Sadie propped an elbow on the table. “I came to tell her ladyship that Martin is home. I saw him come up the driveway.”

Violet stopped cleaning and stared at her. “Walking?”

Sadie shook her head. “He got out of a posh black motorcar. Then it drove off. I couldn’t see who was driving it. The moon wasn’t bright enough that side of the house. I did see it ride over the flower bed as it went around the driveway, though. Desmond’s going to throw a fit about that.”

Violet came over to the table. “Never mind Desmond. How long ago was this?”

Sadie shrugged. “About half an hour ago, I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you come and tell me straight away? I could have asked Martin where he’d been. He’s more than likely asleep by now.”

“He wouldn’t have told you if you’d asked him.”

“He might have done if I’d told him you’d seen the motorcar.”

“Well, it’s too late now, ain’t it.”

Isn’t it.” Violet turned back to the stove. “I’ll have to ask him in the morning.”

Sadie drew invisible patterns on the table with her finger. “Do you think the major’s dead?” she asked abruptly.

Violet went very still, then said quietly, “I sincerely hope not, but if he is, well, that’s war, isn’t it.”