“What was all that last night?” she asked softly, as the baby nursed hungrily from his mother, and William wondered if it was still too soon to tell her the truth. And yet, he knew he had to. He had called the Duke of Windsor in Paris the night before, and they had both agreed, they would have to go back to England very quickly. Wallis was going with him, of course, but William knew there was no way he could move Sarah so soon. Certainly not now, and perhaps not for weeks, or even months. It all depended on how quickly she would recover, and that was impossible for anyone to predict now. And in the meantime, William knew he had to go back to London and report to the War Office. She would be safe in France, but he hated to leave her alone. And as she watched him, Sarah saw all his anguish and worries. For William, it had been an agonizing two days. “What’s wrong?” Sarah asked as she reached out to touch him.

“We’re at war,” he said sadly, no longer able to hide it from her, and praying she was strong enough to take the news, and all its implications for them. “England and France against Germany. It happened yesterday, while you were busy bringing Phillip into the world.” It had been quite a task, they both knew, and understandably they’d all been distracted. But now there was no running away from the truth.

Tears filled her eyes the moment she heard it, as she looked at William in fear. “What does that mean for you? Will you have to go soon?”

“I have to.” He nodded mournfully, devastated to leave her now, but there was clearly no choice. “I’ll try to send a cable today and tell them that I’ll come in a few days. I don’t want to leave until you’re a bit stronger.” He gently touched her hand, remembering all that she’d been through. Watching them seemed like a double miracle to him now, and he hated to have to leave them. “I’ll ask Emanuelle to stay here with you when I go. She’s a good girl.” She had certainly proved that, and more, the day before, while he had delivered the baby.

Emanuelle came back that morning, just after nine, looking spotlessly clean in another blue dress and a freshly starched apron. Her dark red hair was pulled neatly back in a thick braid that fell down her back and was tied with a blue ribbon. She was seventeen, and her younger brother was twelve. They had lived all their lives in La Marolle. Her parents were simple and hardworking, and intelligent, as were their children.

And when she was there, William went to the post office to send a cable to the War Office. But just after he got back to the château, Emanuelle’s brother, Henri, arrived from the hotel. “Your phone is out of order, Monsieur le Duc,” he announced. And the Duke of Windsor had called and left a message at the hotel to tell him that the H.M.S. Kelly, would come to pick them up the next morning in Le Havre, and he had to come to Paris at once.

The boy was still breathless as he told William what he had said, and William thanked him and gave him ten francs, and then he went back upstairs to tell Sarah.

“I just got a message from David,” he started vaguely, walking slowly around the room, trying to see everything so he could take the memories with him. “He … uh … Bertie’s sending a boat for us tomorrow.”

“Here?” She looked confused. She had been dozing while he went out to send the cable.

“Hardly.” He smiled as he sat down beside her on the bed. They were a hundred and fifty miles from the shore, here in La Marolle. “To Le Havre. He wants me to meet him in Paris by eight o’clock tomorrow morning. I suppose Wallis will be going with us.” And then he looked at his wife again, with a worried frown. “I don’t suppose you feel strong enough to come with us.” He knew she didn’t, but at least he had to ask her, for his own peace of mind, although he knew that she could start hemorrhaging again if they moved her too soon. And she had already lost so much blood when she had the baby. She was still very pale, and very weak. It would be a month before she was strong enough to go anywhere, let alone drive to Paris or take a boat trip to England. She shook her head in answer to his question. “I don’t like leaving you here.”

“France is our ally. No harm will come to us here.” She smiled gently at him. She didn’t want him to leave, but she didn’t mind staying. This was their home now. “We’ll be fine. Will you be able to come back soon?”

“I don’t know. I’ll get a message to you as soon as I can. I have to report to the War Office in London, and then find out what they want to do with me. I’ll try to get back here as quickly as I can. And when you feel well enough, you should come home,” he said almost sternly.

“This is home,” she whispered as she looked at him. “I don’t want to leave. Phillip and I will be safe here.”

“I know. But I’d feel better about it if you were at Whitfield.” The prospect of that depressed her. She was fond of his mother, and it was a pretty place, but the Château de la Meuze had become home to them, and they had worked so hard to make it what they wanted that now she didn’t want to leave it. There was still a lot of work to do, but she could do some of it herself when she felt strong again, while they waited for him to come from England. “We’ll see,” he said vaguely, and went to pack a bag to take with him the next morning.

Neither of them slept that night, and even the baby cried more than he had the day before. Her milk wasn’t plentiful enough yet for the enormous child, and she was nervous and worried. She saw William get up at five, when he thought she was finally asleep, and she spoke softly in the darkened room as she watched him.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said sadly, and he came to stand beside her and touched her hand and her face, wishing he didn’t have to.

“I don’t want to go either. Hopefully, it’ll all be over soon, and we can get on with our life again.” She nodded, hoping he was right, and trying not to think of the poor people in Poland.

He was shaved and dressed half an hour later, and stood beside the bed again, and this time she stood up beside him. Her head reeled for a moment as she did, and he put a strong arm around her. “I don’t want you to come downstairs, you might hurt yourself trying to get back up.” She was still very wobbly and she might faint and hit her head, but she was too weak to even try and she knew it.

“I love you… Please take care of yourself … William … be careful … I love you….” There were tears in her eyes and in his, too, as he smiled and helped her back into bed.

“I promise … you be careful too … and take good care of Lord Phillip.”

She smiled at her son. He was such a beautiful little boy. He had big blue eyes and blond curls, and William said that he looked just like photographs of his father.

He kissed her as hard as he dared, and then he tucked her tightly into bed and kissed her again, as he touched the long silky hair cascading over her shoulders. “Get strong again…. I’ll be back soon. … I love you … so much. …” He was grateful again that she was alive, and then he strode across the room, and looked at her one last time from the doorway. “I love you,” he said softly, as she cried, and then he was gone.

“I love you….” She called out to him, as she could hear him on the stairs. “William! … I love you! …”

“… I love you too! …” The echo came back to her, and then she heard the enormous front door bang. And a moment later she heard his car start. She got out of bed again just in time to see his car disappear around the bend toward the entrance to the château, as tears fell down her cheeks onto her nightgown. She lay in bed crying, thinking of him for a long time, and then Phillip wanted to be nursed and finally Emanuelle came again. But now, she was going to move in with them. She was going to stay and help Madame la Duchesse with the baby. It was a wonderful opportunity for her, and she was already filled with admiration for Sarah, and crazy about the baby she had helped deliver. But she was never overly familiar. She was unusually poised for a girl her age, and an invaluable help to Sarah.

The days seemed endless to Sarah after William left, and it was weeks before she even began to get her strength back. By October, when Phillip was a month old, she got a call from the Duchess of Windsor to tell her that they were back in Paris. They had seen William just before they left London, and he looked fine. He was attached to the RAF, and he was stationed north of London. The Duke of Windsor had been sent back to Paris as a major general, with the Military Mission to the French Command. But mostly it meant they were doing a lot of entertaining, which suited them both to perfection. She congratulated Sarah again on the birth of her son, and told her to come up to Paris and visit them when she felt a little stronger. William had told them what a hard time she’d had, and Wallis urged her not to overdo it.

But Sarah was already moving around the house again, keeping an eye on things, and making small repairs. She had gotten a woman from the hotel to help her clean, and Emanuelle was helping her take care of the baby. He seemed huge to her and he had gained three more pounds in four weeks. He was absolutely enormous.

Emanuelle’s brother, Henri, was helping Sarah by doing errands, but most of the men and boys who had worked for them had already disappeared and gone into the army. There was no one left to work on the château, except old men and very young boys. Even the sixteen and seventeen year olds had tried to lie their way into the army, and were gone. Suddenly, it seemed like a nation of women and children

Sarah had heard from William several times by then. His letters had gotten through, and he had called once. He said nothing much had happened yet, and he hoped to get a little time to visit her in November.