“So it could worry you all the more, I suppose.” Violet spooned the thick, gooey porridge into a bowl. “Here, get this down you. You’ll feel better for it.”

Elizabeth obediently sat, her glance straying to Martin’s empty chair. “Poor Martin. I’m afraid he’s in real trouble this time.”

Violet turned away so sharply Elizabeth suspected she had tears in her eyes. “Silly old goat. What did he have to go out on his own for? You’d think he’d know better.”

“Probably looking for Germans,” Elizabeth murmured. “I hope he didn’t take that old blunderbuss with him.”

“No, it’s still hanging on the wall. Besides, it’s so old he’d never get it to fire.”

“That’s what we thought that night he fired it at Earl.” Elizabeth smiled. “Do you remember that night? He thought Earl was attacking me and he shot at him with the blunderbuss.”

Still with her back turned, Violet’s shoulders shook. “Knocked him off his feet it did, silly old fool. Good job there weren’t no bullets in that thing. He’d have blown the major’s head right off.”

Remembering how Earl had thrown her to the floor and protected her with his body, Elizabeth’s smile faded. Surely, surely, she wasn’t going to lose both of them at the same time. That would be just too much to bear.

It didn’t help when an odd sound escaped from Violet, which Elizabeth could swear was a sob. She busied herself with pouring the cream from the top of the milk bottle onto her porridge in order to give her housekeeper time to compose herself.

When she thought it was safe to talk again, Elizabeth said lightly, “Well, it looks as if it will be a good day to pull down that dreadful factory. At least it’s not raining, and the wind seems fairly light.”

“Good thing to be rid of that.” Violet’s voice was muffled, as if she had a bad cold.