Brave Hearts

Brave Hearts Read Online Free PDF

Book: Brave Hearts Read Online Free PDF
Author: Carolyn Hart
both Catharine and Priscilla looked up. The sound of the bombs was changing. Instead of the faraway crumps, they heard a high, shrill whistle. The whistle deepened.
    Priscilla’s voice trailed away.
    Noise throbbed around them, a rumbling, violent roaring like a runaway express train.
    Catharine stared at Priscilla and saw her own fear reflected in Priscilla’s pale blue eyes.
    â€œDo you hear?” Priscilla cried. “The bombs are coming nearer and nearer. We’re in a bombing run. My brother’s told me about them.”
    Catharine knew she was right. She and Priscilla waited helplessly hundreds of feet below as the bombers hurtled along their predetermined path, raining down death.
    Priscilla bolted to her feet; her teacup crashed to the carpet, and tea splattered out. Catharine watched the small patch of spreading wetness with absorbed eyes as the clamor of the exploding bombs obliterated all thought.
    â€œWe have to take cover,” Priscilla shouted.
    Catharine never went to the cellar during raids. She hated the idea of the narrow stairs that twisted down into the dark, damp, musty cellar. It was a double cellar. The staff always took shelter in the back cellar during raids. Fontaine had arranged several chairs and a lamp in the front cellar for Catharine and Spencer, but she had never gone down. Now she was a hostess and Priscilla was her guest. Automatically, she stood. “We can go down to the cellar.” She didn’t know if Priscilla could hear or understand her words, but she was following Catharine across the drawing room.
    Priscilla pressed close behind her as Catharine opened the cellar door, flipped the light switch, and started down the steep steps, bending a little to avoid the low pitched ceiling. They were almost to the bottom of the stairs when an enormous explosion rocked the house. The walls shook; the cellar light went out.
    Catharine reached behind her and clasped Priscilla’s hand.
    â€œThere are some chairs just past the steps,” she shouted.
    They felt their way. Priscilla sat in the first chair. Catharine let go of her hand and took another step or two.
    â€œThere’s a flashlight. I’ll see if I can find it,” but she was listening to the numbing roar of the bombers.
    â€œThey’re just above us,” Priscilla cried. With a catch in her voice, she said tightly . . . “Oh, God, I’m going to die—and I’ve never loved a man.”
    The words hung in the dusty, dark air. Catharine felt an instant of intimacy that would forever wipe away her picture of Priscilla as a prim, reserved stranger. The words echoed and reechoed in Catharine’s mind. Catharine felt a surge of pity. She was reaching out to catch Priscilla’s hand again when the cellar burst with noise. Pressure moved against Catharine. She felt herself lifted and flung. Dust, smoke, and an acrid smell of gunpowder choked her. The walls toppled in, and she heard a faint, choked-off scream from Priscilla.

“They’re giving us bloody hell tonight,” the ARP warden said wearily. “God, I think it’s the worst yet.” The phone rang, and he looked at it helplessly. “I don’t have any more men to send out.” The phone rang again, and he picked it up. He listened and began to make notes. “I’ll send a rescue unit as soon as possible, but it may be a while. Give me the address again.” He scribbled the numbers. “Seamore Place?”
    Jack’s heart began to thud. Catharine’s house was on Seamore Place.
    â€œWarden, what’s that address?”
    The warden looked at him absently. He’d forgotten Jack was there. “Seamore Place. A direct hit midblock. They think some people are trapped . . .” His words trailed away; Jack had turned and was already at the door.
    Jack ran down the darkened street. Catharine’s house was four blocks from the warden’s post.
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