Death Is in the Air Read Online Free Page B

he’s trying to tell us.”
    The sounds of muffled engines caught Elizabeth’s attention, and she instantly forgot about Martin’s ghost. She reached for the massive door handle, but Martin uttered an exclamation and shuffled forward.
    “Please, allow me, madam.”
    Elizabeth forced herself to wait until he grabbed hold of the handle with both hands and slowly tugged the door open. She could hear the slamming of doors outside and guessed the Americans were about to leave. If she hurried, she might just catch Major Monroe before he left.
    The gap between the front door and the frame widened, and she squeezed herself through, earning a look of reproof from Martin.
    “I say, madam!” he protested.
    “Sorry, Martin, but I’m in a bit of hurry. Don’t close the door for a moment. I won’t be but a jiff.” She sped down the white marble steps and across to the courtyard, where a Jeep was already rolling across the gravel to the long, curving driveway.
    The young men saluted her as she rushed by, and she returned the greeting with a cheerful wave of her hand. One Jeep stood alone in the shadows of the ancient walls, engine revving as the man behind the wheel prepared to pull out.
    To Elizabeth’s relief, she recognized the rugged features of Major Monroe. Hurrying forward, she called out to him. “Major? I wonder if I could have a moment?”
    He turned his gaze on her, and as always she felt aquiver deep inside when she confronted his steel-blue eyes. “Ma’am?”
    She felt awkward looking into that penetrating gaze and instead concentrated on the doors of the stables behind him. “I was wondering, Major, if you would care to have dinner with me tonight, here at the manor. There are several things I’d like to discuss with you, and I thought you might enjoy some home cooking for once, since you’re always eating at the base and that must get really tiresome, although Violet isn’t exactly a gourmet chef—actually she’s not even a very good chef—but she does her best, and it should be a fairly decent meal, that’s if—”
    “Ma’am?”
    Relieved to have an excuse to draw breath, Elizabeth returned her gaze to Major Monroe’s face and found amusement dancing in his eyes.
    “I’d be delighted to have dinner with you, Lady Elizabeth, and I’d enjoy sampling Violet’s home cooking. On two conditions.”
    She eyed him warily. “All right. What are they?”
    “One, this would be an informal dinner, and two, you stop calling me Major and start calling me Earl.”
    She would dearly love to call him by his Christian name, but somehow when she tried, the name seemed to stick in her throat. Maybe because she had never known anyone called Earl before, and it seemed so odd to give a commoner, and an American yet, a title of nobility. After all, she was the daughter of an earl, and one did not take that lightly.
    If she were truly honest with herself, however, she’d be forced to admit that the reason she had so much difficulty referring to him by his first name was the air of familiarity such a procedure evoked. Though she’d die rather than admit it, Major Earl Monroe of the United States Army Air Force was far too attractive to risk sharing the least bit of familiarity.
    Besides, the man was married. Which was none ofher concern, of course, but it did sort of rule out any prospects she might have been entertaining. Which she wasn’t, of course.
    “If it takes that long to make up your mind, perhaps we should make it some other time.”
    Startled, she glanced at his face but couldn’t really tell from his expression if he was teasing or not. “No, of course not. I would prefer an informal meal. Actually, we can’t do much else with the little rations we’re allowed.”
    “Well, perhaps I can help out with that. I might be able to rustle up some steaks.”
    Aghast, she hurried to reassure him. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t dream of it.” She had already compromised her convictions by accepting a bottle of