Kate Kingsbury - An Unmentional Murder

Elizabeth nodded, then walked slowly into the quiet ward, braced for whatever might be facing her.

On either side, men lay silent in their beds, some with eyes closed, others staring at the ceiling, and some with their faces covered in bandages. As she passed each bed, her dread grew. She knew nothing about Earl’s injuries, knew nothing about what to expect.

When she finally spotted him, her first reaction was a rush of relief. He wore no bandages around his head, and apart from a nasty graze across his pale cheek, his face was unmarked. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his lack of color, she might have thought he was sleeping, so peaceful did he look with his dark head on the pillow, his strong features relaxed.

Upon further inspection, however, she noticed the bandages wrapped around his right arm, and a cage under the blankets suggested he had injuries to his legs. For a moment his pain was her pain, and she ached to hold him.

A chair had been placed by the side of the bed, and she sat down on it, hardly daring to breathe. She longed to call his name, touch his hand, anything to reassure herself that he was alive and knew she was there.

Instead she concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest beneath the white sheet, and prayed as she’d never prayed before. Mindful of the sister’s warning, she sat for as long as she dared, then rose to go.

“I won’t say good-bye,” she whispered. “I’ll just say get well, and I’ll be back soon.” She leaned over him and dropped a soft kiss on his forehead. He was so still, so unresponsive. Frightened, she stared at his chest again, relieved to see the steady rise and fall had not abated.

“Get well for me, my love,” she whispered. “I need you so.” Turning, she hurried out of the ward before she made a fool of herself and let the tears fall.

Duane Crawford stood as she hurried into the waiting room, his expression apprehensive.

Unable to speak just then, she simply shook her head.

“Come on,” Duane said, taking hold of her arm, “I’ll get you home.”

She followed him out into the night, numb with weariness and a cold dread that would not subside, no matter how much she tried to look on the positive side.

He was a strong man, she tried to assure herself. Healthy, vigorous, and strong willed. He had survived what should have been a fatal crash, according to what she’d been told. He would come out of that hospital alive. She had to believe that or she’d go out of her mind.

Duane did his best to cheer her up on the long drive back to Sitting Marsh. His determinedly cheerful patter helped keep her mind from dwelling on the worst scenarios, and he even made her smile as they reached the long driveway up to the manor.

“I’m terribly grateful to you for giving up your time like this,” she said as she climbed out of the jeep. “It was extremely kind of you to take me to the hospital, and I know how much your thoughtfulness would mean to Earl. Thank you so very much.”

Duane touched his cap with the tips of his fingers. “My pleasure, ma’am. I just wish I’d had a car instead of having to take you in a jeep. It’s not exactly a comfortable ride.”

Elizabeth smiled. “It got me there, and that’s all I could ask.”

“Well, I reckon it’s better than a horse and cart at that.” He touched his cap again. “Good night, your ladyship.”

Deep in thought, Elizabeth made her way between the hothouses around the mansion to the kitchen door. She found Violet had left the door unlocked, much to her relief. Opening it, Elizabeth was startled to see both Violet and Sadie seated at the kitchen table.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” she demanded as they both turned to look at her.

“We were waiting for you to come home,” Violet said, staring at her with an odd expression on her face.

“How’s the major, m’m?” Sadie asked anxiously.

“He’s alive.” Elizabeth slipped out of her coat and sank onto the empty chair. “That’s all I really know right now.”

“They wouldn’t let you see him?” Violet asked.

“I saw him.” Elizabeth let out her breath on a long sigh. “He was sedated. He didn’t know I was there.”

Sadie made a sympathetic tutting sound. “Was he banged up a lot?”

“Sadie!” Violet wagged a finger in her face. “You know better than to ask questions like that.”

“I only wanted to know-,” Sadie began, but Elizabeth interrupted.

“It’s all right, Violet. I really don’t know, Sadie. All I know is that his face seems to be unharmed.”

“Well, that’s good,” Sadie said earnestly. “At least it weren’t like Polly’s Sam, with his face all messed up-”

“Sadie Buttons!” Once more Violet’s harsh voice cut across the table. “I think it’s time you went to bed.”

Sadie sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “All right, I’m going. But don’t forget to tell her ladyship the news.”

Elizabeth looked at Violet. “What news?”

“It’s Martin,” Sadie began. “I thought someone was ringing to tell us something really terrible had happened to the major, but it wasn’t that, it was-”

Again Violet cut her off. “Good night , Sadie.”

Sadie shook her head, muttered a good-night, and disappeared out the door.

“What’s all this about Martin?” Elizabeth felt another chill of fear. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he’s all, all right.” Violet clicked her tongue. “I mean, yes, he’s not hurt or missing or anything. Though how in the world he got into this big a mess I’ll never know.”

Elizabeth laid her handbag on the empty chair next to Violet and buried her face in her hands. “Perhaps this had better wait until the morning. I really don’t think I can take much more tonight.”

“It’s up to you,” Violet said crisply, “but knowing you, you’ll spend the night worrying and wondering about it, so you might as well hear it now. Besides, I’m not sure what it’s all about anyway.”

Elizabeth lowered her hands. “Violet, what on earth are you talking about?”

Violet sat back and folded her hands across her thin chest. “Martin has gone and got himself mixed up with the War Office, that’s what.”

“The War Office?”

“That’s what I said. They rang here for him. Said to tell him to ring them in the morning.” Violet shook her head. “How in the world did he get into trouble with the War Office?”

“I suppose we’ll have to wait until the morning to ask him.” Elizabeth looked hopefully at her housekeeper. “I don’t suppose there’s any tea in the pot?”

“If there is, it’s cold by now.” Violet peered more closely at her. “Besides, you look as if a stiff brandy would do you more good. I’ll get you one.”

She got up and crossed the kitchen to the dresser. “We’ve still got half a bottle left of the brandy the major brought us from the base.” She poured some into a glass and brought it back to Elizabeth. “How is the major really, Lizzie? Is he going to be all right?”

Elizabeth took the glass and sipped some of the brandy before setting it down. It burned hot fire in her chest, then settled in her stomach with a satisfying warmth that made her feel a little less bleak. “I honestly don’t know, Violet. I wish I did. He looked so peaceful, as if he were simply asleep. I kept expecting him to wake up and…” She swallowed. “We’ll know more in the morning, I expect.”

Violet nodded. “I can’t tell you how worried I was about you going all the way up there on that motorcycle. I don’t know what your father would have said.”

“I didn’t take the motorcycle. That nice Captain Crawford took me in the jeep, along with most of the officers that are billeted here.”