Page 20 of A Zephyr Rising
Her father frowned.“I’m afraid she won’t be able to go to London at all.And neither should you.”
The soft buzz of the electric bulb pulsed in the tense air between them.Ginger readied herself for a clash with her father, anger coiling in the taut muscles of her arms.“And why won’t she be able to go to London?”
Her father’s gaze sliced toward her, as though she’d tried his patience enough.“Because of the Act.”His tone held exasperation.“She’s had to register as an enemy alien.She can’t travel further than five miles from the village.Penmore is at the edge of where she might go, to be honest.”
His words caught her off guard.She had expected him to say something about how he didn’t really want to drive Mrs.Martin to London or oversee the boy’s care.How she’d overstepped by offering.Now Ginger felt ignorant.
She’d buy an armful of newspapers in the morning and read everything about the blasted Act.
“You should stay here, Ginny.”Henry sat on a settee, pain written on his features.“The trip to London could be difficult for the boy.It might be frightening to witness.”
Difficult or not, she had to help.She’d put Charlie and the Martins in further danger.Throwing her shoulders back, she said, “Did I balk at his injury?I was fine.I’m not a frail flower, Henry.And if Mrs.Martin can’t go, then there’s room enough for us both to accompany the boy.”
Her mother crossed her arms.“It’s too dangerous for you, Ginger.The men who did this to Charlie—and attacked Henry—could return.Or stop the car.”
Please don’t take their side, Mama.Without one ally, she might not go.“Then it’s as dangerous for Henry, isn’t it?No one is going to stop us on the way to London and ask if they have accused us of German sympathies.”She swiveled her gaze to her father.“Please, Father.It’ll give me a chance to check in with Stephen in London.See if he’s made any progress with Home Secretary McKenna.”
Mentioning Stephen was a trump card, and she didn’t doubt her father would know why she’d used it.But it would also give him reason to hope she’d accept Stephen while in London.
Her father’s dark eyes reflected a quickness that showed she was right.“And where will you stay?Morgan says the boy needs to leave immediately.”
“With Madeline.She won’t mind.”Ginger’s aunt was still in London for the end of the Season.
Her father gave her mother a surprised look, as though he hadn’t expected Ginger to be so prepared with a response.“I don’t need another one of my children injured over this.”
“I promise I’ll be careful.”Ginger leaned forward and kissed his cheek.“Is that a yes?”
Her father scanned her face warily and nodded.“I know exactly what you’re doing.Perhaps you’ll consent to please me and come back an engaged woman.”
Ginger stepped back from him and raised her chin.Even in the middle of the night and during calamity, her father didn’t miss the opportunity to pressure her.Still, it would do her no good to seem stubborn and hard-headed.“You never know.Perhaps being in London again will inspire me to settle the issue once and for all.”
A mildly pleased expression filled her father’s face.
Ginger pressed her lips together.Once and for allcould mean many things.She hoped her choice wouldn’t estrange her from her father.Somehow, it felt as though the war had already fractured her world.
“Very good.You will need to drop us and Mrs.Martin off at Penmore after we’ve loaded the child.Hopefully Bosworth won’t mind your mother and I squeezing in with him in the front.”
Dr.Morgan and Henry transported Charlie to the idling motorcar on a stretcher, Mrs.Martin following.She wrung her hands as they walked out of the hospital.She turned to Ginger.“Thank you, Lady Virginia.For all you’ve done for me.”She climbed in beside her son.
As Dr.Morgan exited from the car, he wore a scowl.He turned to Ginger.“Since this was your brilliant idea, I entrust the boy to you.If he grows pale or his pulse drops, I advise you to stop and find the closest doctor you can.Get him amputated if that happens.”
Ginger’s throat went dry.“How do I know if his pulse drops?”
The doctor reached for her hand.At her hesitation, he said, “If you’ll permit me.”
She nodded, then offered her hand.“Place two fingers here.”Dr.Morgan put his middle and forefinger below the wrist.“Count the beats you feel for ten seconds.Use your brother’s pocket watch.Then multiply by six—you know arithmetic, yes?”
She pulled her wrist away.“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Dr.Morgan.”
He seemed unfazed by the insult he’d offered.“If you can’t find the pulse on the wrist or if it’s too faint, try here, at the base of the neck.”He touched his own neck to show her.“If his pulse is below forty, there’s reason for concern.”
Her father cleared his throat from the front of the car.“That’s quite enough, Dr.Morgan.We must be on our way.”
The trip to Penmore was quick, followed by an exchange of goodbyes.Ginger hated to leave Mrs.Martin behind.But at least here she’d be safe, wouldn’t she?
Ginger leaned out of the car window to wave.The distant hoot of an owl sounded in the night, followed by the rustling of spiky branches from the tall conical evergreens beside the house.She held her breath, listening intently.The violence of the evening had left an edge on her heart.What if her mother was right?The men who’d been so angry with the Martins could come here still.Hopefully, Henry’s trip to the police would deter them.
As the car pulled away down the long driveway, Ginger glanced over her shoulder at the house.The grey stone walls of the estate gleamed with moonlight.
