Free Brave Hearts by Carolyn Hart

point, Cavanaugh.”
    Unease stirred within Spencer. “Yes, Mr. Ambassador?”
    â€œThis is a sensitive post in a number of ways.” Winant looked decidedly uncomfortable.
    Spencer kept his face impassive. Was the ambassador going to mention Peggy?
    â€œWe need to go the extra mile to reassure the Filipinos of the depth of our commitment.”
    Spencer waited.
    â€œAs you may know, the president ordered all military wives home from the Philippines last spring, but State Department dependents are staying. This is a deliberate effort to show President Quezon that we aren’t going to cut and run, no matter what happens.”
    Spencer waited.
    â€œThe point is, Cavanaugh, will your wife go to Manila with you?”
    Relief made Spencer’s voice expansive, relaxed. “Of course, she will.” He even smiled a little. “After all, sir, Manila will seem like a holiday after London. You know our house was bombed, and Catharine was trapped for a while.”
    Winant nodded. “I know. I just hope it isn’t a case of going from the frying pan to the fire.”
    Spencer’s smile broadened. “I doubt it, sir. After all, the Japanese aren’t an industrial people. None of the chaps I’ve talked to take their armed forces very seriously.”
    â€œI hope they’re right.” Winant’s voice became brisk. “In any event, Washington will be pleased to know you’ve accepted. It will be an immediate transfer.”
    The ambassador stood and Spencer scrambled to his feet. They shook hands. Spencer turned to go, then paused and said casually, “There’s one thing, sir.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIf possible, I’d like to take some of my team here with me. Jim Donaldson and my secretary, Peggy Taylor.”
    â€œCertainly. Anyone you wish.” Winant smiled. “Within reason, of course.”
    In the privacy of his own office, Spencer Cavanaugh stood stock-still for a long moment; then his mouth curved in a triumphant smile. Special envoy. Special envoy. Special envoy. There would be no stopping him now. He leaned over his desk and punched Peggy’s buzzer.
    When she hurried into the office, carrying her stenographer’s pad, Spencer said, “Close the door.” He smiled at her. When the door was shut, he crossed to her, his eyes electric with excitement. “Peggy, I’ve got great news!”

    Catharine was in no particular hurry. It was such a lovely August day. Since the bombing had stopped in mid-May, London had seemed almost like her old self. Passersby no longer looked exhausted, their faces sunken from lack of sleep. There was a feeling of hope in the air.
    Perhaps love could triumph in a world which gave so little time for caring. Ever since that difficult day when Jack had asked her to marry him and she’d told him about Charles, they’d met without discussion of their future. She knew he understood how very much she wanted to be his, that she would give her life to be his. And understood, too, that it had to be done with as little harm to Spencer as she could manage. She owed Spencer that much, at the very least. Thank God, Jack understood. Perhaps when Spencer received a new assignment, she could make the break, then permit him, of course, to divorce her.
    She walked slowly up the street toward the flat where she and Spencer had moved after the bombing. She wished instead that she was on her way to Jack’s apartment, but he was off on a story about coastal defenses and wouldn’t return to London until next Wednesday. She pictured his small, plain apartment and the bedroom with a rather narrow double bed. She felt his presence so dearly, remembering the feel of his mouth and body.
    She was reaching for her keys at the apartment door when it swung open. She looked up, startled.
    â€œSpencer! It’s midmorning. What’s wrong?” She stared at him. She’d rarely seen him look so alive,