Suddenly the chattering and laughter in the ballroom seemed to ebb away as Elizabeth took Earl’s hand, leaving only the soothing voice of Frank Sinatra to entice her onto the dance floor.
“You’re limping,” she said as he led her into the midst of the smooching couples.
“We had a little problem on the way back this morning.”
“Won’t it hurt you to dance?”
“I’ll manage. Just don’t ask me to jitterbug.”
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of breaking my neck for anyone.” She glanced over to the group at the door. All of them appeared to have bandages of some kind, and one of them leaned on a cane. “What happened?”
“We caught some flak. Crippled the plane, but we made it back close enough to land in a field. Took us a while to hitch a ride back to base.”
Filled with concern, she looked up at him. His mouth was smiling, but the bleakness in his eyes frightened her. “That’s a little problem?”
“We made it down in one piece. Better than ditching in the ocean.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered coming down here tonight. You must feel awful.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
Her heart seemed to turn over. “I’m so glad you made it back.” Such simple words that couldn’t convey the gratitude she felt that he had been spared. This time.
“So am I.” His gaze flicked over her. “Nice dress.”
“Thank you.” She had been right. Dancing this close with Earl Monroe was an interesting-no, captivating-experience. She felt quite light-headed.
She saw the other couples nuzzling each other and wanted so much to touch his cheek with hers. She had to remind herself sternly that he belonged to another woman. In an effort to reinforce that, she said deliberately, “Your wife will be very relieved to know you are safe.”
His face was expressionless when he answered her. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Do you have children?”
“Two. Boy and a girl.”
“They must all miss you very much. It’s hard for children to be without their father.”
“Yeah, well, they’re almost grown up now. Brad’s sixteen, and Marcia’s a year older.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You must have been very young when you had them.”
“Right out of high school.” He inclined his head in the direction of the stage. “Good music. Sinatra’s a favorite of mine.”
“Mine, too.” Aware that he’d deliberately changed the subject, she told him about the rest of Bessie’s collection of records. Obviously it was painful for him to talk about his family. He must miss them very much, she thought, and chided herself for the deep pang of envy she felt.
The song ended much too soon, and she walked with him off the floor, wishing it could have gone on forever.
He said something to her, but the band music drowned out his words. She was about to ask him to repeat them when the sound of a disturbance over at the bar caught her attention.
A British soldier appeared to be arguing with an American, while a young woman attempted to get between them. Elizabeth recognized Lilly Crumm just as the soldier swung a punch at the other man’s face. The American immediately retaliated and knocked the soldier to the ground.
It seemed to Elizabeth as if everyone in the room had been waiting for that moment. The tension had been building all night, and now all hell broke loose. Rita Crumm appeared from nowhere and dragged her daughter out of the way as British soldiers, American airmen, and too many women surged onto the floor. Fists began to fly, voices cursed, yelled, and screamed, while somewhere in the background someone was blowing on a whistle, barely heard above the racket.
Elizabeth signaled to Wally to turn off the music, since no one was listening to it anyway. Earl seemed to have disappeared, and she went up on her toes to scan the room for a sight of him. As she did so, a glass tankard sailed past her head, narrowly missing her. Someone bumped into her back, sending her forward into the flailing arms and kicking feet.
A painful blow on the shin made her cry out, and she twisted out of the way as a couple of men locked in mortal combat lurched past her. A pair of strong arms locked around her from behind, and terrified now, she struggled to release herself.
“Come on,” Earl’s voice said in her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
Weak with relief, she let him guide her through the struggling bodies until they were at the edge of the crowd.
He put his mouth close to her ear again and asked, “Is there another way out of here?”
She pointed to a door tucked away in the corner behind the stage. Immediately he grabbed her hand and stumbled unevenly toward the door, dragging her behind him. They reached it safely, just as the shrill sound of whistles echoed throughout the ballroom.
“M.P.’s,” Earl said, and pushed her through the door into the dark passageway beyond. “That will be trouble for the guys.”
She didn’t answer him until they were through the narrow passageway and out into the main foyer. Then she said with a sigh, “Well, that was a disaster.”
He looked sympathetic. “I hate to say I told you so…”
“I know. Obviously this integration thing is going to take a lot more work. I’ll simply have to come up with something else.”
Inexplicably he gave a shout of laughter. “Lady Elizabeth,” he said, still chuckling, “you are priceless! I like your spirit. Reminds me of the pioneers.”
She would never know what prompted her to utter her next words. Maybe it was the approval in his eyes. Or the relief of seeing him back safe and sound from a near disaster. It could well have been all the excitement of being in the middle of a brawl. Or perhaps the two glasses of sherry she’d consumed while worrying about him. Whatever the cause, the words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Please, Earl, do call me Lizzie.”
Polly had been in the middle of the dance floor when the fight erupted. Sam had been wonderful, shielding her with his body as he swept her away from the brawling servicemen. She’d looked for Marlene but couldn’t find her in all the confusion. Now she stood shivering outside the town hall, watching people stream down the steps.
“I hope she’s all right,” she told Sam. “Ma will never forgive me if something happens to her. We’re supposed to watch out for each other.”
Sam tightened his arm around her. “You can’t be responsible for what she does. She’s a big girl.”
Polly looked at him in surprise. “Not that big. She’s not as skinny as me but-” She broke off when Sam laughed.
“Not big in that way, though I guess she is built real nice, now that I think about it.”
“Here, watch it!” Polly punched him in the arm. “Don’t you go looking at my sister like that.”
Sam dropped a kiss on her nose. “No need to worry, honey. I only have eyes for you.” He started to sing softly, chasing away her doubts.
She couldn’t stop worrying about Marlene, though, and kept her gaze fixed anxiously on the doors.
“She’ll be okay,” Sam said after a while. “She’s almost your age. Not like she’s a young kid or anything.”
Polly felt a pang of guilt. What would he say if he knew she wasn’t sixteen yet? She had to tell him some time. But not yet. Not until she knew for sure that he was well and truly hooked.
“I’m hungry,” she said to take his mind off the subject of age. “Wish I’d had a couple of those bangers when I had the chance.”
Sam stared at her. “Bangers?”
She grinned. “Bangers and fried onions. You know, sausages.”
“Oh, you mean the hot dogs. They were swell!”
“Hot dogs? Is that what you call them?”
“Sure. Wiener in a bun. Everyone eats them at ball games. No fried onions-just relish and mustard.”
She burst out laughing. “Don’t say that around here,” she said when she could breathe again. “People will think you’re talking about something else.”
“Say what?”
“Wiener.”Again she exploded into laughter. “I can’t tell you what it means. Just don’t say it.”
“Oh, I get it. Like when you say keep your pecker up.”
She stopped laughing. “So what’s wrong with that? It just means keep smiling, that’s all.”
Sam grinned. “Not where I come from.”
“Really?” Polly frowned. “Looks like we talk a different language after all.”
“You’d better believe it.” Sam squeezed her shoulders. “Isn’t that your sister coming down the steps now?”
“Yes, it is,” Polly said in relief, then she gasped.
Marlene’s normally immaculate hair was in a tangle all over her head, and one sleeve of her dress was torn. As she got closer, Polly could see an angry-looking scratch down one side of her face.
“What on earth happened to you?” she cried out as her sister reached her side.
The Yank with her, the one who’d been dancing with her all night, spoke first. “Eh, she’s okay. Some prick took a swing at me, Marlene here jumped in, and his girlfriend tried to scratch her eyes out. Took two of us to pry ’em apart.”
“I got the better of her,” Marlene declared, though she looked ready to cry.
“We’d better get home,” Polly said nervously. “Ma’s going to be really upset when she sees that scratch on your face.”
“It’s too early to go home yet.” Marlene’s friend looked at his watch. “The night is still young. Let’s go find a club where we can get a drink.”
Polly laughed. “There aren’t no clubs around here. Only the pub, and that shut at eleven.”
“Eleven?” The Yank’s black eyebrows rose in his forehead. “What kind of time is that to close down? Don’t they know there’s a bunch of guys here looking for a drink?”
“I reckon you’ve all had enough to drink, Tony,” Sam said, slapping the other man on the shoulder. “Why don’t you take your girl home and call it a night?”
“Yeah, Tony,” Marlene said, touching the ugly scratch with her fingers. “I want to go home now.”
“Okay, sweetheart, anything you say.” Tony winked at Polly. “See you later, babe.” He slung an arm around Marlene’s shoulders. “Where do we get a cab?”
Sam sighed. “This isn’t New York, Tony. No cabs. You’ll either have to take one of the Jeeps or hoof it.”
Tony looked put out. “Okay, sugar, let’s see if we can grab a Jeep before the rest of those bozos get out here.” He looked at Sam. “You wanna come along with us?”
“Nope. Reckon we’ll just mosey on along behind you.”
“Okay. I’ll wait after I drop Marlene off at the house and give you a ride back to base.”
Sam grinned. “Take your time, buddy.”
Tony’s smile was wicked. “I plan to. See ya!”
Polly watched them leave, still feeling worried about Marlene. She seemed too quiet. Not at all like herself. “Do you know him?” she asked Sam as they started walking down the High Street.
“Who, Tony? Yeah, I guess I do. He’s okay. Gets a little wild now and again, but he’s a good guy. Your sis’ll be okay with him.”
“I hope so.” She thought about it for a moment then said, “He’s got a funny accent.”
“He’s a New Yorker.”
“He talks too fast, and it’s hard to understand what he’s saying.”
Sam laughed. “Most of the guys say the same about you gals.”
“What? Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”
“As long as I can see that look in those beautiful brown eyes, I don’t have to understand what you’re saying.”
She pretended not to understand him. “What look?”
He stopped and pulled her into his arms. Her heart melted when he gave her a long, lingering kiss. There was one thing about the Yanks, she thought happily as they continued on their way. They certainly knew how to make a girl feel good about herself. Even if they didn’t really mean a word of it.
Elizabeth dreamed about Earl that night. It wasn’t a good dream. It was vague and terrifying, filled with crashing planes and huge, leaping flames. She woke from it trembling and found it hard to go asleep after that. Part of her conscience insisted that the dream was her punishment for lusting after a married man. Not that she was really lusting after him, she hastened to correct herself.
She couldn’t help the way she felt about him, but surely, as long as she didn’t do anything about it, and never, ever let him know her feelings, what harm could there be in enjoying his company now and then?
None, she assured herself. He was a friend, that was all. Clinging to that faint ray of comfort, she finally fell asleep.
The telephone pealed its shrill summons the next morning while she was enjoying a boiled egg for breakfast with Violet and Martin in the kitchen.
Violet had been telling Martin about the fight at the town hall, and he was suitably horrified, insisting that the master would come down heavily on his head for not protecting the womenfolk from such barbaric behavior.
The fact that had he been at the dance the night before he might possibly have been trampled to death did not occur to him, and far be it for Elizabeth to point that out and diminish his role as protector.
She welcomed the ringing of the telephone as an effective diversion and waited for Violet to answer it. She watched the housekeeper’s face and knew at once something momentous had happened.
Violet’s replies were short and unrevealing, consisting mostly of “yes,” “no,” and “well I never.”
Elizabeth waited impatiently for her to hang up the receiver. When she did, it seemed to take her forever to turn around.
“Well,” she said finally, “you’ll never guess what happened now.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” Elizabeth said impatiently, “so why don’t you just tell me?”
“That was George Dalrymple on the telephone.” Violet’s face took on a look of pure satisfaction. “He thought you’d like to know that the German is hiding in the old windmill out on Robbing Lane. Rita and her mob have the place surrounded. He’s on his way out there now.”
Elizabeth dropped her egg spoon with a clatter. “I must leave right away. It would be just like Rita to take matters into her own hands, and it will take George at least half an hour to get out there on his bicycle.”
“You be careful, Lizzie,” Violet warned. “You know how that Rita’s lot gets when they’re on the warpath. Never know what they’ll be up to, that you don’t. I don’t want you getting hurt if they decide to go after that German.”
“Save your worries for that poor boy.” Elizabeth flung the words over her shoulder as she rushed from the room. Her beige wool coat hung on the hallstand, together with her black beret and scarf. She threw everything on, just as Martin came shuffling out into the hall.
“Madam, you can’t fight the Germans empty-handed,” he said as she headed for the door. “Take the blunderbuss with you. That will scare the pants off them!” He looked shocked. “Begging your pardon, madam. I can’t imagine where I picked up that phrase.”
“You’ve been listening at the keyhole to them Americans again,” Violet said, hurrying down the hallway after him. “That’s where you hear those things. Shame on you, Martin. You know what they say. Eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves.”
“Well, that’s as may be,” Martin said haughtily, “but I can tell you that one hears no good of some other people, either.”
Violet pulled up short. “What the blue blazes does that mean?”
“I’ll be back as soon as I get things sorted out,” Elizabeth said hurriedly, and before Martin had a chance to start his shuffle, she’d pulled the door open and closed it again behind her.
It took her only a few minutes to reach Robbing Lane on her motorcycle. She was glad of her scarf as the chill wind whipped at her face. It would soon be time to light the fires in the fireplaces. She could only hope they had enough coal to keep the fires going throughout the winter. December and January could be cruel months in Sitting Marsh, sometimes burying the village in deep snow for weeks at a time.
She wondered if bad weather would ground the Americans. If so, the officers would have a respite from their dangerous missions. In spite of her former fears, so far her uninvited guests had made little impression on day to day life at the manor. They left early in the mornings and didn’t return until late in the evenings. Apparently they took all their meals at the base and generally kept to themselves.
If the bad weather grounded them, that could change. With time on their hands, the officers would become bored with sitting around the base or in their rooms in the east wing.
She couldn’t help wondering if she’d see more of Earl Monroe. He’d seemed stunned when she’d blurted out those unfortunate words last night.
She should never have uttered them. She should have kept things on a formal level, so that there would be no hint of anything but an acquaintance between them. By allowing him to call her by her childhood name, she was putting their relationship on a much more personal level. Even though he didn’t seem to realize that.
After his initial surprise, he’d acted pleased and flattered by her request. It was the very first time she’d called him by his first name, and it had seemed strange on her tongue. Even so, she had been unprepared for the impact of hearing her special name spoken in his deep voice. Never had it sounded quite so intimate.
She hastened to warn him never to call her Lizzie in front of anyone, and he’d promised to do so. He’d seemed amused by the warning and didn’t seen to understand the significance. She hadn’t bothered to explain. Better that he should think it simply a whim, rather than a breach of protocol that could lead to some serious gossiping among the villagers. After all, the more casual she kept this new arrangement, the better.
She couldn’t help feeling, however, that she’d made a serious blunder in letting down her guard and that she would have to work very hard in order to ensure that it never happened again. That road could surely only lead to trouble and heartbreak.