"I have decided not to come, certainly," she said, feeling her heart jerk apprehensively as she made the statement.
He stood a moment in silence, then bent unexpectedly, took her by the chin, and turned her face up to his own. It was flooded with scarlet on the instant; her eyes flinched away from his.
He held her so for several seconds, looking at her, mercilessly watching that agonizing blush, till it faded under his eyes, leaving her white to the lips. Then, without another word, he let her go.
She heard the jingle of his spurs as he went away, and for a long time after she lay as he had left her, too unnerved to move. What could he know? How much did he suspect? She felt cold to the very heart of her, stricken and sick with fear. He had not so much as kissed her in his brutal, domineering way, and that fact disquieted her more than any other. Though she hated the touch of his lips she would have welcomed it thankfully in that hour of sickening apprehension only to feel reassured and safe.
The patter of rain roused her to activity and drove her back to the house, in time to meet Mrs. Lovelace hastening forth with an umbrella to her rescue.
"You shouldn't be sitting out there, ma'am, on a day like this," the old woman said. "And, lawk-a-massy, you do look bad!"
Maud tried to smile. "I am not bad, Mrs. Lovelace. It's only the heat."
Mrs. Lovelace pursed her lips and looked severely incredulous. "You'd best lie down, ma'am," she said. "I'll bring your lunch immediately."
She bustled away, and Maud sank on the couch in the parlour and strove to compose herself. But she could not with that awful fear coiled like a snake about her heart. A terrible restlessness possessed her. It was impossible to remain still.
If she could only send a message to Charlie, warning him not to come! But that was impossible. She knew that no message could reach him now. He would have to come, and Jake would know of it. Manoeuvre as she might, those lynx-eyes would wrest from her the secret. She knew herself powerless to withstand them.