“I’ve talked to Tess,” she told them, “and I don’t think she is responsible for the death of Brian Sutcliffe.”
Both parents uttered exclamations, though Rodney looked far more relieved than his wife.
He rose to his feet, one hand raking through his hair. “Did she tell you what happened?”
“Yes, she did.” Elizabeth sat on her favorite armchair by the fireplace and smiled at Daphne, who still looked stricken. “I really can’t go into it now, as I have many more questions to ask and people to talk to before we can come to any conclusions. As soon as I know something for certain I’ll let you know.”
“Do you have any idea who might have killed Brian?” Daphne asked, one hand clutching her throat.
“Not at present, no.” Elizabeth stood. “But I can assure you I’ll do everything in my power to ferret out the truth.”
“Well, if there’s anything we can do to help…” Rodney walked to the door with her. “I can’t thank you enough, Lady Elizabeth. As you can imagine, my wife and I have been out of our minds with worry. I only hope we can solve this mess before the inspector gets here and jumps to the wrong conclusion, as P.C. Dalrymple did.”
Heartily agreeing with that sentiment, Elizabeth left them alone and headed for the kitchen. She was eager to have her lunch and then get out of the manor for a while, in order to clear her mind. A brisk stroll across the downs with her two dogs, Gracie and George, bounding along by her side was just what she needed to organize her thoughts.
It wasn’t until she was tramping through the long grass that she allowed herself to think about Earl. He’d been absent a lot lately, and he seemed preoccupied. Which usually meant something big was brewing at the base. Talk of the Allied invasion of Europe had been the main topic of news lately, both in the newspaper and on the wireless. Speculation, of course. No one knew when or even if it would eventually take place.
One thing Elizabeth did know: if there was to be an invasion, Earl would be in the thick of it. The troops landing on the beaches would need air support. Undoubtedly that was the reason he’d been sent back to his base in England. Something else was just as certain. She wouldn’t know he’d gone until it was over. One way or another.
The fear that always hovered in the back of her mind surged to the forefront. To lose him now, just when the path ahead of them appeared to be offering a chance for happiness, would be too terrible to bear. She was devastated when he left England the year before, but there had always been a faint hope to cling to, a chance that she would see him again someday. To have him come back to her, only to lose him forever, would destroy her completely. No, it was too awful to even think about.
Her eyes misted with tears, she didn’t recognize the figure standing on the edge of the cliffs at first. The dogs, however, had no such reservations and were leaping about with joyous whines and yaps that left no doubt in her mind.
It was as if he’d materialized out of her thoughts, and for a moment she was too full of emotion to speak as she reached him.
“I was on my way back to the manor,” he said, holding out his hand. “I saw you across the downs and figured I’d wait for you here.” He’d parked the Jeep on the grass verge a few yards behind him. The dogs scrambled into it, their noses busily sniffing out unfamiliar smells.
Smiling, Elizabeth put her hand in his. “I was just thinking about you.”
She’d said it lightly, but the glow in his eyes intensified. “I’m happy to hear that.” He squeezed her hand and let it go. “You want to walk?”
She fell into step beside him as he started back across the cliffs away from the manor.
“I don’t feel like going back to my quarters just yet,” he said, linking her arm through his. “I want to be out here in the sun and the fresh air on a nice, normal. Sunday afternoon. For a while I want to forget everything and everyone and relax with my best girl.”
Something about the way he said it brought a chill to her heart. “You’re going away,” she said, her voice flat with misery.
He glanced at her, his expression hard to read. “Not as far as I know. Not yet, anyway.”
“Then what is it?”
He halted and pulled her around to face him. “You know I can’t tell you anything specific. It’s just that I might not be able to spend much time with you for the next week or two. Things are heating up, and I’ll be pretty tied up for a while. I’ve just got time to pick up my stuff this afternoon and I’m heading back to the base.”
The hollow in her stomach grew larger. “The invasion?”
“Elizabeth…”
“I know. You can’t tell me.” She pulled away from him, determined not to let him see her fear. “Well, then,” she added stiffly, “we’ll just have to talk about something else. What do you think these little pink flowers are called?” She turned her back and walked away from him, gesturing fiercely at the clump of wildflowers growing alongside the railings that lined the cliff path. “They come back every year and no one seems to know their name.”
“Dammit, Elizabeth!” He caught up with her, seized her arms, and turned her to face him again. “You know I’d tell you if I could.”
Struggling to keep the tears at bay, she muttered, “Yes, I do. It’s just that it’s so hard, not knowing. I try not to think about it, but every time I pick up a newspaper…” She looked up at him, helpless to continue.
The look in his eyes cut off her breath. “You know, Lady Elizabeth Hartleigh Compton, you sure make it hard for me to keep my promise.”
“Then don’t.” She didn’t know she’d said the words out loud until she saw his face change. Even if she could take them back, she knew she wouldn’t. Yes, he was right. They should wait. His divorce wasn’t finalized yet. Officially he was still married. Protocol demanded they keep their distance from each other, at least until he was a free man.
Right at that minute, however, none of that seemed to matter. No one was around to see them, and heaven only knew when she would be alone with him again. If ever. No, she would not take back the words.
She waited for what seemed an eternity before he moved. She wondered if he’d understood, but then he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. It seemed as if everything-the trees, dogs, birds, the grass, the ocean, the sun, and the salty breeze, all of it-disappeared into one soundless moment in time. So this, she thought with a sense of wonder, this is what being in love is really like.
Polly flew up the stairs so fast she tripped at the top and went sprawling onto the landing. The carpet scraped her knee and she winced. Another flipping ladder to ruin her stockings.
Edna’s voice screeched up the stairs. “What are you doing up there? You sound like a herd of elephants.”
Polly pulled a face and scrambled to her feet. “I tripped, that’s all.” The precious letter had crumpled in her hand, and she smoothed it out.
“It’s those blasted high heels you wear. You’ll break your neck in those, my girl. You mark my words.”
Having heard the dire warning too many times to count, Polly ignored it and limped into the bedroom. With a flick of her foot she kicked off one sandal, then the other, and sank onto the bed.
She stared at her address written in an untidy scrawl across the envelope. Just above her name was a smudge of dirt, as if it had been splashed with mud. Tense with excitement, she stared at it, wondering where the writer had been when he wrote the letter.
There was one way to find out. Very carefully, hardly daring to breathe, she opened the flap with her thumb and drew out the flimsy pages.
There were three pages altogether, covered in the same scrawl, which at times was hard to read. She skimmed through it at first, skipping the newsy parts to get to something personal. She found it halfway down the last page.