Regency Masquerade (16 page)

Frances
Metcalf”

It
was not exactly what she wanted to write, but she did not want to appear too
forward, after all, Carleton may have felt glad to be rid of her.  She felt she
had owed him an explanation, even at the risk of placing her future in his
hands if he wanted to destroy her.   He was the only person in London, apart
from John, who knew her whole story.  She was already inventing a heavily
edited version to tell Lady Murray and Mrs Pearson, without actually gammoning
them too much.

Eventually
she was packed, made her farewells to Madame Lebrun, who would leave in the
morning to take the stage to Dover, and left sufficient funds with John to
allow him to stay at the Regent for some weeks.  She also left her male attire,
including her pistol, securely locked in a bag in her room.  Then she was off
to Devonshire Street and a new chapter in her life.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

Frances
followed Mrs Pearson upstairs to a delightful room, furnished in pale blue.  A
young girl followed them in silently, “This is Annie, she will be your maid
until you find someone yourself,” advised the older woman.  “I will leave you
to get settled, then, when you are ready, Annie will bring you down to the
parlour for tea.  Oh I am so glad to see you here, I was your mother’s nurse
you know.”

“You
must tell me all about her,” responded Frances, “I would love to hear your
stories, in fact I know very little about this side of my family at all.”

“I
am sure the two of us will have lots of opportunities for a comfortable cose.  Lady
Murray does not like to remember the past,” she explained carefully.

Annie
was young, with light brown hair tucked under a cap, and slightly blotchy
skin.  Deftly she unpacked Frances bags and put things away, without saying a
word.  “Thank you Annie,” said Frances, and she dipped her head and smiled
shyly.  “Can you show me the parlour please?”  The maid led her downstairs to a
small room decorated with white and gold panelling and delicately carved
chairs.  Lady Murray was already seated and called for the tea tray when
Frances arrived.  Expecting to give an account of how she had spent her life,
Frances was taken aback when Lady Murrays’ first question was, “What
accomplishments do you have girl?  Maria, Mrs Pearson that is, says you have
the look of a lady, and your voice is acceptable, but what are your
accomplishments?”

“I
am afraid I do not have many, your ladyship.  I sew a little of course but I do
not play an instrument, or sketch.   However, I speak French and Italian
fluently, and German, a little.”  Frances answered honestly.  She resisted the
temptation to add that she could also fence a little and out shoot most men, though
it would almost have been worth it to wipe the condescending smile off Lady
Murrays’ face.

“I
feared as much.  What about dancing?”

“I
am familiar with some country dances, but a few lessons to teach me the current
steps would be helpful.”  She replied, trying hard not to let her offense show.

Lady
Murray smiled suddenly, “You will forgive me if I do not introduce you to
society just yet. You will need proper clothes and dancing lessons at least
before we present you.  I am sure you will feel more comfortable with that, rather
than to be thrust into a round of activities too soon.”

Frances
had rather been looking forward to engaging in a round of social activities but
she could hardly gainsay her grandmother, and murmured a polite “Thank you, my
lady.”  A small spark of rebellion prompted her to add innocently, “Should I
call you Grandmere, or Grandmama my lady?”

Lady
Murray suppressed a wince.  “You may call me Grandmother,” she conceded
reluctantly, she could hardly insist the girl keep calling her Lady Murray! 
“Maria has a good eye for fashion, she can take you to my dressmaker tomorrow. 
I will ask her to look through your wardrobe and see if anything you have is
suitable for your new station.”  Frances bit her lip, there was no point in
taking umbrage.  She would just have to pretend she was undertaking a new
masquerade for the period of her visit, that of demure young lady.  She
wondered how soon she could lay hands on her ten thousand pounds and set up her
own establishment.   Fortunately Lady Murray retired to her room shortly
afterwards for a rest, and Frances went upstairs with Mrs Pearson to look
through her wardrobe and discuss what new clothes she would need to purchase
tomorrow.

Lord
Carleton was beginning to think he was the victim of a malicious fate.  No
sooner had his plan succeeded, and Frances been located by his agents’ clerk at
the Regent Hotel, than she disappeared again before he could talk to her.  He
arrived home feeling discouraged, to find a letter had been left for him in his
absence. He unfolded it half heartedly, then drew in his breath as he
recognised who it was from. Eagerly he scanned the short missive.

“My
dear Carleton,

I
have been waiting until I sorted out my affairs before contacting you again.  I
have a name now, Frances Metcalf.  I am the daughter of Lady Amanda Murray and
Henry Metcalf and they were married at Brasted in Kent, twenty five years ago. 
I have approached my grandmother Lady Murray and she has invited me to stay
with her until my inheritance is arranged, I have been told I am to inherit ten
thousand pounds!   It all seems like a fairy tale and best of all it is
true
and not a scam!

I
must tell you why I left Chatswood as I did, though perhaps you have guessed
the reason yourself by now!  I did not want to trap you into offering for an
adventuress, your unfailing kindness to me did not deserve to be repaid like
that.  I hope in time you will find yourself able to forgive me,

Yours
sincerely

Frances
Metcalf”

He
read it a second time.  Did she want him to seek her out or not?  It certainly
sounded as if she cared for him but whether it was as a friend or something
warmer he could not tell.  He needed a private conversation with her, but how
could he approach her at Lady Murrays without admitting a prior acquaintance? 
As far as he was aware, no-one outside Lady Murrays’ immediate household even
knew of her existence yet.  He would have to wait until she was introduced
socially to the ton and then seek an introduction, he must curb his
impatience.  For the first time he wished she was still masquerading as Peter
Francis, it would certainly have been a lot easier to arrange a meeting.

Frances
and Mrs Pearson greatly enjoyed their expedition to Lady Murray’s dressmaker
the following day.  They ordered two evening gowns, a muslin dress gathered
high above the waist to wear in the day time, a pelisse with velvet trim and a
blue bonnet to match and felt very extravagant. 

While
they were out, a letter was delivered to Lady Murray and she asked Hanson to
read it to her.  She was exceedingly glad she had not waited for Mrs Pearson to
return when he opened the letter and after glancing at it, suggested in a
wooden voice that they move to the privacy of the parlour.

 “My
dear Lady Murray,

I
am writing to you tell you about the wanton behaviour of the person who goes by
the name of Frances.  I understand she is a connection of yours.  She dresses
in male attire and recently spent a week at the house of Lord Richard Carleton,
as his close companion!  I do not need to tell you the scandal this would cause
if it became known.  I hope you can do something about this,

Yours
sincerely,

A
friend”

Lady
Murray felt a curious mixture of horror and vindication, “I knew something like
this would happen!” she said harshly.  “There was bad blood in Henry and it has
come out in the daughter.  She must be mad!” she concluded with certainty.  “The
girl obviously needs to be looked after, she is not capable of keeping herself
decent.”  She thought for a moment, “Send for Mr Pilkington immediately, Hanson,
I will get him to investigate this.  Also, I think we should ask Dr Russell to
call tomorrow, I fancy his services will be required to keep her under control. 
Arrange it will you? Mind, not a word to anyone else, especially Mrs Pearson -
I will break the sad news to her myself, she will be very distressed.”

“Yes
my lady. What shall I do with the letter?”

“Give
it to me.  I will need to show Mr Pilkington.”  Lady Murray took the letter and
held it carefully, it was the most valuable thing she had received for ages.  She
waited impatiently for Mr Pilkington who fortunately for both of them, was not
busy when Hanson called and was able to return with him in the hackney.

“I
have received some interesting news about my granddaughter,” she told him
calmly, passing him the letter.  “You may find this will be of assistance to
us.” 

Her
solicitor took the letter gingerly and quickly skimmed it. “Yes indeed my lady,
very interesting, if true,” he added suavely.

“That’s
what I want you to investigate for me, privately of course, I do not want this
to be known outside these four walls, at least not yet!”

He
nodded and bowed himself out of the room, “At once my lady.”

 She
went slowly upstairs to her room, plans forming in her head only to be
discarded as she realised their weaknesses, her scheme needed to be foolproof. 
Surely she had some laudanum handy? She would make sure Hanson arranged for some
to be put in Frances morning cup of hot chocolate, that would keep her docile
until Dr Russell arrived and she could put the rest of her scheme into place.

The
two shoppers returned to the house, unaware of the disaster looming over their
heads.  Lady Murray remained in her room, she did not think she could manage to
treat Frances with civility and pleaded a headache when Mrs Pearson went up to
enquire.  “I shall just rest here quietly Maria, but please come up and see me
before you retire for the night,” she requested in a faint voice.

Mrs
Pearson knocked lightly on her door later that night after Frances had retired,
and was bid to enter.  Lady Murray was propped up in her bed and turned a
tragic face towards her old companion.  “Maria, you must prepare yourself for
terrible news,” she turned a searching gaze upon her and patted the side of the
bed.  “Be seated, I have had a great shock.  Our Frances is not.. not well” 
her voice faltered convincingly.

“My
lady, what on earth has happened?” cried Mrs Pearson anxiously.

“While
you were out this afternoon, I had a visit from Mr Pilkington.”  Lady Murray
thought correctly that this would carry more weight than an anonymous letter. “He
has been looking into the girls’ history for me to see if we could verify her
claim and unfortunately he made a terrible discovery.  Before she came to us
she was living with a man!”  She continued, over Mrs Pearson’ gasp of horror.  “Not
only has she lost her virtue but I fear she has been seen wearing men’s clothes
in public.  I can only conclude that she is suffering from an inflammation of
the brain so I have asked if Dr Russell might call as a matter of urgency
tomorrow.  We will see what can be done, perhaps a quiet life in the country..”

“Good
heavens!  What are we to do?  I cannot believe it, is Mr Pilkington certain of
his facts?”  Mrs Pearson was devastated.

“Unfortunately
it is all too true,” Lady Murray sighed.  “We will see what can be done
tomorrow, after I have seen Dr Russell.  I know I shall not sleep a wink tonight
but we must get what rest we can.  Good night Maria, I am sure I do not need to
tell you, but not a word to the girl until Dr Russell has been, I will talk to
her myself after I have decided what to do.”

“Of
course, my lady, oh I cannot believe it!” she exclaimed again. Not only had Mrs
Pearson become fond of Frances but she had been eagerly looking forward to
presenting her to their friends and the round of social activities this would
entail.  Grateful as she was to Lady Murray for providing her with a home and a
comfortable life, sometimes it did all seem rather quiet, not to say dull.  A
lively young person was just what they needed, she had thought.  Sadly she went
to her room, only to lie on her bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. 
After a while her natural optimism began to reassert itself.  Perhaps it was
not quite as bad as Lady Murray feared, she was always one to see the worst
side of things.  Who was the man involved?  Perhaps if he were not totally unacceptable
he could marry Frances and make her, if not respectable, at least less
scandalous.

Unsuspecting,
Frances woke early as usual the next morning and drank her cup of hot
chocolate, grimacing a little at the taste, perhaps the milk was not quite
fresh today.  She had almost finished dressing before the effects of the
laudanum began to overtake her and she felt sleepy and a bit dizzy.  “I think I
must have caught a chill or something yesterday Annie, I really don’t feel at
all well.  Perhaps I had better go back to bed for a while, could you please
apologise to Lady Murray for me?”  Annie helped take off her dress and she lay
back down on the bed, then fell into an uneasy dose.

When
she awoke some hours later she could not think where she was.  She was
certainly not in her blue bedroom.  She looked around groggily, what the deuce? 
There was a doll in a crib by the window and a miniature set of chairs in front
of the fireplace, it looked as if she was in the nursery.  She was lying tucked
up in a narrow bed with a white cotton cover, but apart from the children’s
playthings there was nothing else in the room.  Shakily she got out of bed and
went to the door.  She looked down disbelievingly, it was locked.  “Hello?” she
called uncertainly, was she dreaming? There was no sound from the other side of
the door and she went to the window and looked out through the bars.  Bars?  Of
course there were bars, she realised, it was a nursery.