Regency Masquerade, page 17
“I never heard anything about no Count,” he shook his head dubiously, “It were a Lady wot sent me there, Lady Murray ‘er name was. She was dead set to get ‘er ‘ands on a girl she reckoned had run away from ‘er. Frances Metcalf, that was ‘er name, very keen to get ‘er back she was. Dunno why she thought this Lord Carleton had ‘er, but I went there to ask ‘im and ended up in the suds over it. Girl weren’t there o’course. Just this this young’un, looked like ‘e ‘ad ‘is mother’s milk on ‘is lips, but ‘e had his sword at my throat quick as a flash. Right bumble-broth it was. I reckoned it was the old Lady wot was dicked in the nob, not any missin’ girl.”
Squire Herbert, readily identifying the presence of Peter Francis in this story, clarified a few details then thanked the Runner for his help and set out on the return journey. So far the only person who appeared to have a grudge against Lord or Lady Carleton was this Lady Murray, who, he remembered, was Frances’ grandmother. He wondered whether it was possible that, having failed with the Runners, Lady Murray had somehow engaged the Comte Duverne to take care of her problem for her in a more permanent manner. However, it seemed unlikely he would find sufficient evidence of this to warrant approaching her about it. Hopefully the Comte’s violent end would put paid to any further schemes.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A fortnight later, Lord Carleton had recovered sufficiently from his injury and they decided it was time to return to London and re-enter society. Fanshaw, Hopgood and Mrs Pearson all went with them.
Carleton’s first step was to contact Mr Adams, his solicitor and brief him about Frances’ claim for recognition of her birth and inheritance. He also put him in possession of the letters retrieved by Mrs Pearson concerning Frances’ history, and the record of her parents’ marriage. Mr Adams left them with a sombre look on his face and a cautious warning about not getting their hopes up but secretly feeling rather thrilled by the most exciting case he had ever been presented with.
The couples’ next step was to send invitations to a carefully selected group of friends to a dinner party at their house at the end of the month. Jack Lambert, Harry Belmont and Sammy Fairfax were among the small guest list, along with cousin Theo and his wife Fanny. “Might as well face everybody at once!” ventured Frances bravely.
Carleton agreed, “Yes, it is best to know where we are placed as soon as possible. If these people will stand our friends we should brush through tolerably well, no-one else apart from Lady Murray will be in a position to cause trouble.”
Several days later, Mr Pilkington called on Lady Murray, his normally sober face even more dour than usual. He was shown in to the front parlour, where his client was seated in front of the small fire which was kept burning most of the year apart from high summer. She wore a deep blue morning dress, its high neck buttoned up to her chin and a white cap on her head. A book lay face down on the small table beside her, indicating that Annie had been reading to her prior to his arrival. She looked up at him with a slight frown. “You have news for me?” she enquired.
“Yes my Lady. I had a visit from Mr Adams yesterday, he is Lord Carleton’s solicitor,” he explained. Her hand clenched briefly on the arm of her chair. “What does he have to do with this business?”
“I am afraid matters are now serious, perhaps I should say more serious,” he paused for an instant then took the plunge. “They are married, Lady Murray. Miss Frances is now Lady Carleton and they are here in London. She is being introduced to the ton, not only as Lord Carleton’s new wife but as your granddaughter.”
“How dare she!” Lady Murray hissed incredulously.
“I am sorry my lady, but Mr Adams showed me copies of several letters supporting her claim, letters about her birth from Lady Amanda and her father Henry Metcalf, addressed to her aunt Lady Julia. I really do not consider there is any doubt of her pedigree.” He let her digest the unwelcome news for a moment, then continued carefully. “Mr Adams presented me with an offer from Lord Carleton on behalf of his wife, that he requested me to present to you.” Mr Pilkington cleared his throat and attempted to infuse a positive tone to his voice, really it was a very generous offer though he doubted Lady Murray would see it that way. “In return for your public acceptance of Frances Carleton as your legitimate granddaughter, they will forgo any request for distribution of her inheritance until you ..uh..well, until you pass on and the estate is wound up.”
“Over my dead body!” The words burst forth uncontrollably. “I’ll not have that ... that strumpet in my house again!” Two red spots flared in her cheeks.
Mr Pilkington persevered, “There is no request for a private relationship or a reconciliation, merely your public acceptance of the facts. My lady, please think of the scandal if you should challenge her claim, your families’ intimate correspondence paraded before all, the subject of common gossip! And I do not need to remind you of the difficulties we would face if we are directed to pay out the money now! I strongly suggest you give this your deepest consideration, I will leave you to think about it and call again tomorrow, if it please you.” He bowed himself out as he spoke, anxious to leave before she could cut loose in earnest. Lady Murray snapped her fan in two and threw it in the fire. Fiend seize it! Mrs Pearson had betrayed her, it appeared that Henry’s brat had won.
It was pouring with rain when Mr Adams called on Lord and Lady Carleton a few days later, Frances hoped it was not an omen. The solicitor came straight to the point. “I have heard from Mr Pilkington. Lady Murray has decided to accept your offer, reluctantly I understand, but at least you will not have to suffer a public brangle, she has agreed not to impugn your right to be recognised as Frances Metcalf and her granddaughter.”
“Thank goodness!” exclaimed Frances.
“I admit, this has given me some concerns about the substance of your inheritance,” added Mr Adams with pursed lips.
“You suspect it has been spent already?” queried Carleton, his brows raised.
“I fear so, my Lord. I do not wish to give offence, but I fear only the most powerful necessity would have compelled Lady Murray to acknowledge your wife.” He bowed his head respectfully towards Frances.
“Still, we have her agreement, which is more important to me at the moment,” declared Frances. “We can wait for the money.”
“I shall keep a close eye on Mr Pilkington and his affairs,” continued Mr Adams with relish, “Let him know he is being watched and cannot expect to get away with anything underhand in the future.”
The dinner party had been arranged for that very night. Carleton had invited Theo and Fanny to arrive a little earlier than the rest of the guests as he thought they deserved to be introduced to Frances and told the story first. Remembering Theo’s reaction to the part of the story he was already aware of, Carleton could only hope they would not turn around and walk out. In fact Theo had wondered long and hard whether to accept Richard’s invitation or not. He had been absolutely stunned to hear that Richard was married. In the light of what he had discovered at Chatswood he could only assume Richard had found his missing “friend” and married her. In the end, it was his wife Fanny who had persuaded him that they should go.
“You must trust Richard,” she urged. “He is no green boy to fling his hat over the windmill, you must trust that he would not have married someone totally unacceptable. He is family Theo, whatever the outcome, we must stand by him, even if she is not ... not good ton, in any event, we must make the best of it. You know you would hate it if you became seriously estranged from him. He will find it hard enough I suspect to steer a smooth path through Society, without his family taking against her.”
“You are right, my love,” agreed Theo, steadfastly pushing to the back of his mind all the spiteful things Mrs Madden had poured into his unwilling ears.
They paused at the entrance to Carleton’s house, unconsciously bracing themselves and trod up the steps determined to put a brave face on things. Lord Carleton greeted them with a relieved smile as they entered the hall, “Theo, Fanny, I am so glad to see you!” but before he could introduce Frances, Theo stepped up to him to enquire anxiously about his shoulder. Carleton had written to them about the shooting incident when he had recovered sufficiently to hold a pen.
“How are you Richard? I was never so shocked, attacked in broad daylight!” exclaimed Theo.
“I am quite recovered, as you see,” replied his cousin. “I was lucky, it was but a flesh wound. Let me introduce you to my wife, Frances.” He drew forward the young woman standing at his side as he spoke. Fanny saw an elegant woman, taller than herself, dressed in a pale blue silk gown which was the height of fashion, with fair hair gathered in ringlets at the top of her head and grey eyes that smiled hesitantly at her.
“I am pleased to meet you both,” she said in a low, clear voice. “Will you come into the drawing room? Richard and I have a lot to tell you!”
Feeling slightly reassured by her refined manner, whoever Frances was, she was certainly no prime article, the Talbots took a seat in the drawing room and prepared to listen. Frances told them only a little about her life with her father, before moving on to describe in detail what had occurred since her arrival in London, with Richard adding a few comments of his own as they went. Theo and Fanny were amazed to hear that she was Lady Murray’s granddaughter and shocked by her tale of imprisonment.
“Now we are married, I have taken up Frances claim to her mother’s estate,” Richard continued. “It is not the money so much as the acknowledgement, reluctant or not, of the relationship.”
Frances nodded in agreement. “As a matter of fact, we have just heard today that Lady Murray will agree that I am her granddaughter, though I expect we will never be close!”
“Do you think Lady Murray had anything to do with the attack on you?” asked Theo now, “Are you certain you were the target, or was it Frances?”
“I cannot think it,” answered Frances. “How would she have contrived to meet the Comte and arrange such a thing? She scarcely leaves the house. It is not as if he were a relative or even a servant to entrust such a task to.”
“No indeed,” murmured Theo. They were obliged to end their conversation there as the rest of the guests began to arrive.
Richard went out to welcome the new arrivals and introduced them gracefully to Frances without making any reference to her past other than to say she had been living abroad and only recently arrived in London. He wanted to see if anyone recognised her as Peter Francis, if not, he was tempted to let the deception pass unconfessed. Jack Lambert and Harry Belmont both gave her a second look, a slight frown on their faces. Sammy Fairfax however, immediately identified her as Diana from the Dalrymple’s masked ball, and Carleton took the opportunity to tell them the shortened story of her relationship to Lady Murray and the disputed inheritance.
This caused Jack Lambert to study her even more closely as he recalled his encounter with “Diana”. He stopped and stared at her in dismay as he remembered their conversation, good God, she had told him to his face that she was an adventuress, did Carleton know? He glanced sideways at him but as he could see nothing in his face apart from an expression of polite interest, he schooled himself to patience, he could hardly quiz him in the middle of a dinner party. His thoughts continued to race along, when he first saw Frances this evening he had imagined she looked familiar but Diana had been masked, he had not seen her face, it must be someone else that she resembled. It fretted him all through the first course, but it was Harry who inquired courteously, “Pardon me Lady Carleton, but do you have a young relative called Peter Francis? I have been wondering who you remind me of, the resemblance is quite striking.”
Of course, thought Jack, Peter Francis was who she reminded him of, it was really quite a strong likeness, in fact..he got a sudden cold feeling in the pit of his stomach and his eyes flew to Richards. Richard held his gaze steadily, a slightly defiant look on his face. He folded his napkin deliberately and placed it on the table, then stood up and went to stand behind his wife, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “I think perhaps we had better tell our friends the truth Frances. I was hoping we could finish dinner first but I think Jack has already guessed.”
Frances glanced quickly up at Richard then looked directly at Jack Lambert, “You have guessed correctly Mr Lambert,” she said. “When I arrived in London and was searching for my identity I was masquerading for a while as Peter Francis.” There were shocked looks on every face except for Theo and Fanny who looked at Richard in distress. Frances continued matter-of-factly, “I was quite safe believe me, much safer than I would have been as a young woman alone in London, accompanied only by a manservant. I put up at the Pelican inn with John Hopgood to keep watch over me, and then I accidently ran into Richard while he was being attacked by footpads and, well, the rest you have heard and here we are today!” She smiled brightly at everyone.
Jack Lambert looked as if he was biting his tongue to keep from exploding and Carleton spoke rapidly before anyone else, “I can assure you all that although Frances has behaved unconventionally, she has done nothing to be ashamed of. I remind you that she is my wife, please consider that before saying anything we will all regret.” He paused and looked around at them all. “We would very much like you all to remain our friends but if you feel I am asking too much, then you must do as you see fit.” There was an uncomfortable silence, Jack and Harry both staring at Frances, finding their eyes drawn involuntarily to her breasts and figure as they struggled to come to terms with the fact that Frances and Peter were the same person. The others looked awkwardly from one to another.
Then, “I can’t believe it!” blurted Harry, “Outshot by a girl!” The naive protest caused a burst of laughter from Jack and Richard and broke the tension between them.
“Come on Richard, tell us the rest of the story,” demanded Jack, “You can’t leave it at that! How did you find out?” Carleton could not help himself, he blushed.
Frances leapt in to smilingly fill the silence as Jack stared at him, “I told Richard myself, I felt too guilty for deceiving him. Let me tell you a little more about what happened when I went to stay with my grandmother.”
She kept them distracted for the next few minutes with the story of her imprisonment and rescue by Carleton and then absorbed their full attention with her account of their runaway marriage by special licence, once again sending up a silent prayer of gratitude for Mrs Pearson’s company on the journey which made it sound romantic rather than scandalous. Jack sat back gratefully, he had not meant to embarrass Richard and he really did not want to know if Richard had made a pass at Peter. He thought he was the only one there with enough worldly knowledge to suspect that might have occurred. Hastily he poured himself another glass of wine.
The servants brought in the next course and everyone resumed eating, almost without realising that the moment to walk out had passed.
Later that night as they slid into bed, Frances told him contentedly, “Perhaps I will never receive a voucher for Almack’s, but I think we have a wonderful group of friends who will stand by us. I am looking forward to arranging some house parties when we return to Chatswood, perhaps Harry and I can have another match!”
“Yes indeed,” agreed Richard distractedly.
“But?” queried Frances.
“Nothing important,” he denied, unconvincingly.
“Richard, please tell me what is worrying you,” she turned her head to look him in the eyes.
“It’s only ... I think Jack thinks I ...” he trailed off and dropped his eyes, how could he explain that to his wife?
Frances reached out and held his face firmly between her hands, “You are right, it is not important. I know you love me whether I am Frances ... or Peter!” Carleton flinched. “Peter is still me, just me in different clothes, that is all. You don’t need to worry what Jack thinks, or anyone else for that matter!” She pulled him over so that his long, hard body was on top of her and kissed his mouth. “I love you so much, make love to me Richard.” In less than a second, all thoughts of anyone else except Frances had left his head.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
(Epilogue)
Tom waited grudgingly for my lady’s mysterious visitor to leave by the kitchen door. The man was wrapped in a black cloak, the hood pulled low over his face to conceal his features. Mr Hanson himself had let the man in, Tom not being considered responsible enough for that task, but Mr Hanson had decided it was acceptable for Tom to be the one to stay up late so that he could let the visitor out.
The man hurried down the lane, almost running. Tom looked after him and frowned, queer goings on and no mistake. He shut the door and made certain it was looked securely for the night. He had just turned away, ready to seek his bed again, when a piercing shriek split the air. For a moment he froze, his head swivelling, trying to decide if the sound had come from inside the house or outside in the street. A second scream convinced him it was coming from the first floor. Pausing only to grasp a stout stick from the collection beside the fireplace, Tom raced upstairs.
A scene of mayhem met his eyes. Annie the maid, was backing out of the doorway into Lady Murray’s sitting room, her apron over her face, her screams now reduced to whimpers. “My lady, oh my lady!”
Tom pushed past her to find Lady Murray crumpled on the floor, her head covered with blood! “Quickly,” he told Annie, “Run and get Mr Hanson.” He looked around, “Where is Miss Pettigrew? Her companion?”
They stared at each other in horror for a moment, each wondering if she had been struck down as well. Luckily for their jangled nerves, Miss Pettigrew appeared, tying a voluminous robe around her waist, her cap on her head. “Whatever is the matter Annie?” she asked querulously.
