Regency Masquerade (24 page)

“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.