103. She Wanted Love by Barbara Cartland Page B

you comes back and you can be sure, my Lady, I’ll let you know the moment the Master gives up the idea of your marryin’ the Duke. But take care. If you’re in any trouble with the Marquis, come back and we’ll find somewhere else for you to hide.”
    “I know you will and thank you, darling Betty.”
    They crept down the back staircase and out through the door that led into the Square.
    There was no one about, but it was not as dark as it had been and the first glimmer of light was just appearing over the roofs of the houses.
    They walked quickly to the Agency to find that the road was deserted and everyone was still asleep.
    “Now you stay quietly inside till the carriage comes for you,” Betty said. “It’s not likely you’ll be disturbed at this time of the mornin’, but as you know you can lock the door on the inside.”
    Eleta hugged Betty as she said goodbye to her and kissed her on both cheeks.
    “You have been wonderful, wonderful,” she said. “I will write to you, but I must disguise my writing in case any of the staff recognise it and tell Step-papa.”
    Betty nodded and Eleta went on,
    “You can be quite certain he will be suspicious of everyone, especially of you, as you have always meant so much to me.”
    “I’ve thought of that,” Betty said.
    She opened her rather ugly handbag and pulled out a piece of paper.
    “Here’s the address of my sister-in-law, my Lady, and if you write to me there, she’ll forward the letter on.”
    “How clever of you,” Eleta exclaimed. “I did not think of that and, if I do write to you, it would not be surprising if your sister-in-law writes to you whenever she feels like it.”
    “That’s what I want you to do. I’ll tell her to put it in another envelope so that the Master won’t be curious as to why I’m hearin’ from Hertfordshire.”
    Eleta gave a cry of delight and kissed Betty again.
    It would have been dark inside Mrs. Hill’s house if there had not been a glass panel above the door and the dawn was just beginning to percolate through it.
    Eleta sat on the stairs. It was not very comfortable, but at least she was resting her legs.
    Then, as she was alone in the quiet of what was at the moment an empty house, she began to pray.
    She prayed for God to help her and for her mother to be near her and she also prayed that where she was going would not be as difficult or as frightening as Betty feared it would be.
    The sun was coming through the top of the door and lighting the stairs when Eleta’s wristwatch told her that it was now six o’clock.
    It was then that she turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Even as she did so, she saw a carriage approaching drawn by two horses.
    When they were pulled in exactly outside the door, she opened it still further.
    There was a footman on the box beside the driver and, as he came across the pavement, she saw that he was a comparatively young man with a smile on his lips.
    “Be you the new Governess?” he enquired.
    “I am,” Eleta said, “and let me thank you for being so punctual.”
    “We was afraid we’d have difficulty findin’ this place,” he replied, “as we ain’t been here before.”
    “My luggage is inside and thank you for coming.”
    “You may not thank me when you gets there,” the footman muttered.
    Eleta knew without being told what he meant and she thought it would be a mistake to be too chatty. So she waited until the footman brought out her luggage and then she locked the door and put the key through the letter-box.
    The footman loaded her luggage at the back of the carriage and then came round to open the door for her and she climbed inside.
    It was very comfortable and well-upholstered and Eleta put her jewel-case down beside her, as the footman came to the door carrying her hat-box.
    “Do you mind havin’ this with you?” he asked. “It won’t go into the hole at the back and I don’t fancy havin’ me legs on it all the way down.”
    “It will be quite