Manor House 03 - For Whom Death Tolls Read Free

struggled to see what was going on inside the circle of shouting and gesturing men.
    "Come
on
," Marlene yelled, and dragged her unwilling sister toward the door. "We'll catch hell from Ma if we don't get out of here now."
    There wasn't much Polly could do but go along with her. Marlene was right, she'd be up to her neck in trouble if Ma found out they were down there and started a fight. In any case, she couldn't very well speak to Sam while he was scrapping. All she could hope was that he wouldn't get hurt.
    A warm feeling crept over her as she scurried along the street in an effort to keep up with Marlene. Her Sam had fought for her. That was the best thing anyone had ever done for her. That was something she'd never forget her whole blooming life.
    Sundays in Sitting Marsh were usually quite peaceful. People got up late, went to church, tended their gardens in the summer, and hibernated indoors in the winter. Occasionally a fete or a garden show would break up the monotony, but for the most part, Sundays in the village were pretty much guaranteed to be uneventful.
    This Sunday was no exception. Elizabeth spent the day catching up on her correspondence—blissfully without the distraction of Polly's chatter. Sundays were her part-secretary, part-housemaid's day off, and Elizabeth made the most of it.
    Early that evening she exercised George and Gracie, exerting more energy than both puppies combined chasing them away from the piles of raked leaves, and out of the flower beds and ornamental shrubs. Desmond, her gardener, had already expressed his outrage at having to clean up after the dogs. Damage to the gardens would certainly add fuel to his fire.
    Now that the nights were drawing in, she had less time to spend outdoors. The chill in the air was becoming more pronounced, and if she didn't organize the cricket match soon, it would be too cold to play.
    She fell asleep that night thinking about the match, and was woken up out of a dream where she was umpiring a game played entirely by dogs. At first she couldn't think what had awakened her, until she heard the distinct sound of bells. She recognized them instantly. The church bells in the spire of St. Matthew's.
    Sleepily she reached for her bedside lamp and switched it on. The hands on her alarm clock pointed to five past three. While she was still struggling to make sense of why church bells would ring in the middle of the night, a heavy pounding startled her into full consciousness.
    "Lizzie!" Violet's voice called out urgently. "Lizzie, get up! It's the bells."
    Elizabeth stumbled out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown from the back of a chair, and tugged it on as she crossed the thick carpet to the door. She had never locked her bedroom door until a contingent of American airmen had been billeted at the Manor House by the war office. Although she was quite sure that the American officers were all perfect gentlemen, the sense of security the locked door gave her allowed her to sleep more peacefully.
    Violet's thin face was chalk white when Elizabeth threw open the door. Her frizzy gray hair stood out straight from her head. Obviously she hadn't had a chance to brush it.
    Alarmed by the sense of urgency, Elizabeth demanded sharply, "What is it? Is it an air raid? What's happened?"
    Violet clutched the neck of her pink candlewick dressing gown. "It's the signal, Lizzie. Don't you remember? The signal for an invasion. It's the Germans. They've come for us. They're invading the village."

CHAPTER
    2
    Martin had insisted on getting fully dressed in his usual dark suit and waistcoat, and by the time Elizabeth had convinced him he was safe at the house with Violet for the time being, it seemed quite likely the entire village would be overrun with gun-waving German soldiers.
    She was immensely relieved, therefore, upon reaching St. Matthew's, to discover that the disoriented crowd milling around the churchyard consisted of mostly villagers and a handful of Americans huddled