Read Online The Master of the Priory by Annie Haynes - Free Book Online Page B

thrust back her glasses, her breath coming in long painful gasps.
    â€œI am Maisie’s governess. Let me go, Mr. Carlyn.”
    Frank Carlyn fell back a step. “You are Maisie’s governess! Good heavens!”
    But the governess was hurrying away from him upstairs. Below in the hall Sir Oswald was waiting. Sybil Lorrimer and Barbara Burford stood in the doorway talking to Maisie. He sprang after that tall, dark figure already gaining the shelter of the corridor.
    â€œThis won’t do,” he said eagerly. “Don’t you know that I have been searching everywhere for you?”
    â€œI know that you will drive me from my poor little refuge,” Elizabeth answered him bitterly. “Listen, Sir Oswald is calling you. Indeed I cannot talk to you now.”
    â€œAnother time, then,” Frank Carlyn pleaded. “We are dining here to-morrow. Will you be in the garden by the fountain afterwards?”
    â€œIf—if I can.” Elizabeth caught the echo of Sybil Lorrimer’s voice coming upstairs with Barbara. She burst away desperately. “But go—go now. Do you want to ruin me?” she gasped.

Chapter Seven
    T HE MOON was shining brightly—too brightly, Elizabeth Martin thought, shivering as she stood just inside the open library window. Dinner was practically over, she had heard Lady Davenant and her guests go into the drawing-room, but she could catch the sound of voices, the odour of tobacco smoke from the dining-room. She knew, however, that Sir Oswald never sat long over the wine, it was time she made her way to the summerhouse near the fountain if she meant to keep her appointment with Frank Carlyn.
    She let herself out quietly and stole across the lawn, taking care to keep within the shadow of the trees. Opposite the house there was the wall overlooking the Dutch garden, with a flight of steps leading down. Elizabeth glanced round fearfully as she hurried on, and started nervously as some nocturnal bird rustled among the trees. She ran across the garden. In the moonlight it was possible to see the softened radiance of the flowers gleaming like jewels in their quaint, stiff beds. At the farther side stood the summer-house; it was a favourite resort with the Davenants and their guests, combining as it did with a view of the Priory a glimpse of the distant Welsh hills.
    Elizabeth drew a deep sigh of relief as she reached it, then she loosened the lace shawl in which she had shrouded her head and shoulders. As usual, she wore her smoke-coloured spectacles, and her hair was drawn low over her forehead, but even in the moonlight it was easy to see that her face was white, and that she was trembling all over.
    She had not long to wait. Very soon she saw a dark form strolling across the lawn, and in another moment Frank Carlyn stood in the doorway.
    Elizabeth moved forward.
    â€œWell, I am here,” she said quietly.
    Carlyn started. “I ought to have been here first, but I couldn’t get away before,” he said apologetically, “I hope you have not been waiting long.”
    The words were commonplace enough, but the man’s face was tense and strained, his hands were clenched nervously.
    â€œOh, what does that matter?” Elizabeth broke in impatiently. “The question is what do you want from me? Why did you bring me here at all? That is all that matters now.”
    â€œAll that matters,” Carlyn echoed hoarsely. “It seems to me that everything matters. Can’t you see that something must be done—that things can’t go on like this?”
    Elizabeth put up her hands and threw back her shawl with a quick, impatient gesture as if it were stifling her. Then she moved a step nearer.
    â€œWhat does that mean exactly? What things can’t go one like this?”
    Carlyn looked at her for a moment, his eyes resting on the sleek dark head, then his face hardened.
    â€œYou cannot stay here as Maisie’s governess,” he