Regency Masquerade

Chapter Twenty One

The day after he returned to London, Carleton took a hackney to the Pelican and asked to see Peter Francis. He was still unsure exactly what he was going to say, but he was met with the news that Mr Francis had left two days ago. No, there was no forwarding address although he had mentioned visiting a cousin in Bath. Carleton guessed, correctly, that this was a red herring and left the Pelican to check if he had been seen at Manton's pistol gallery. He even managed to run into Jack Lambert at his club but a casual enquiry revealed only that Jack had not seen him since he had dropped him at the Pelican.

It was gradually dawning on him that he had no way of finding Frances if she didn't want to be found; she had no family in London and he didn't even know whether she was currently masquerading as a man or a woman. He was reluctant to involve anyone else in the search, even his man of business, but he was beginning to feel desperate. What if he never saw her again?

Lord Carleton had never thought of himself as a conceited man, but it had occurred to him, driving back to London and mulling over what he and Theo had discussed, that perhaps he had been somewhat arrogant in presuming Frances would leap at the chance to be his wife. When he thought back, he realised he had not actually asked her to marry him, he had just announced his 'betrothal' to the Squire and assumed she would agree.

He cringed inwardly as he remembered the virtuous glow he had felt, that he was doing the honourable thing, offering to make an honest woman of her. How patronising it must have seemed, especially to someone as independent as Frances. If only he could find her he would apologise and see if he could start again, court her properly ... he faltered a little at the image this conjured up, he couldn't quite imagine Frances acting as a demure young lady. Did she know how to dance or would she take the lead? A reluctant smile curved his lips.

Then he wondered if she had contacted Lady Murray yet. It seemed a distinct possibility in the light of their previous conversations about her, but he could not think of an acceptable reason for approaching Lady Murray himself to find out. He was restricted in what enquiries he could safely make in person, without bringing unwelcome attention on both of them. If only he had a female relative in London that he could trust to make a call on his behalf.

~~~

Lady Murray had tried hard to put all thoughts of Frances out of her mind but with no success. She wondered audibly if 'that girl' would visit them again at least several times a day and eventually Mrs Pearson took the bull by the horns and suggested they send an invitation to her at the Regent. "Impossible!" declared Lady Murray. "We cannot be seen to acknowledge her. At least not until her claim is proven."

"In that case, I propose we bring Miss Julia's trunks down from the attic and start looking for any letters or papers that may be relevant. It will be a good opportunity to sort the contents out in any case," advised Mrs Pearson.

Lady Murray hemmed and hawed for another day, then conceded that perhaps it would be best to get it over with. She asked the footmen to bring a trunk down to the parlour and Mrs Pearson was soon busy unpacking clothes and sorting them into piles for sewing materials, hand-me-downs for the staff and a few costly pieces to be carefully wrapped and stored safely back in the trunk. Mrs Pearson faithfully described each article as she withdrew it and Lady Murray sat silently at first and then started to reminisce about some of the more unusual items. "I remember when Julia wore that gown to the Queen's Drawing Room, she was the most beautiful girl in the room."

"Well that's the last from that trunk," Mrs Pearson announced some time later. "No papers there. How many more trunks are there, Tom?"

"Two more, ma'am," replied the footman cautiously.

"Well, let's have them down then!" said Mrs Pearson cheerfully. She loved looking through clothes and materials. She was already planning to turn a beautiful piece of green satin into a pair of cushion covers that would match perfectly with the damask walls in the drawing room.

Tom looked hopefully at his employer, expecting a counter order, but she merely nodded and he departed for the attic with a sigh. Hopefully the next one would not be so heavy!

The second trunk proved to contain the household linen and it took scarcely any time to sort through. Most pieces were still in excellent condition and were removed to be taken upstairs by one of the maids and handed over to the housekeeper. By this time, Lady Murray was getting a little weary and told her companion to carry on without her while she went upstairs for a rest. Mrs Pearson was in full swing and merely gave a token protest, "If you are sure, my lady, I will let you know if I find anything, of course."

The third and last trunk contained coats and pantaloons that had obviously belonged to Sir Thomas. Mrs Pearson did not feel qualified to sort these and merely lifted each piece out and shook it to determine that nothing had been hidden between the folds. Eventually this task was completed and the articles of clothing returned to the trunk.

She turned to the footman despondently, "Was that it then, Tom? Are you sure?" She had been so certain she had been going to find some papers or even a letter from Amanda hidden away.

"There is nothing else ma'am," he assured her. "Well, apart from a few pieces of furniture of course."

"Furniture? What kind of furniture?"

"Just a desk ma'am, and a little dressing table-like thing," he answered doubtfully. "Perhaps you would like to come up and have a look for yourself?"

Mrs Pearson nodded then sighed as she got to her feet. "Perhaps later, Tom. I am feeling a little tired myself. Please ask Annie to come in and I'll tell her where all these things need to go. The trunks can go back in the attic now, thank you."

The parlour was soon restored to its normal state and Mrs Pearson went upstairs herself for a brief rest before dinner. The furniture would still be there tomorrow.

Frances meanwhile was oblivious of the concern she was causing in other quarters. She had taken John's advice, and hired a solicitor to investigate the time and place of her parents' marriage, twenty five years ago. While she was waiting for the results, she took the opportunity to refurbish her female wardrobe and to purchase such things as face powder, a new wig and other accessories. Her hair was starting to lengthen, as she had not cut it for several weeks, but it would be some time before it was at an acceptably feminine length. She started to venture forth on small outings to the park and the circulating library but was careful to act as decorously as possible in case Lady Murray was having her watched.

For a while she had debated whether or not to start calling herself Frances Metcalf, but in the end decided against it. She did not want to antagonise Lady Murray further at this stage, although if she could not find any proof to support her claim she might have to change her strategy.

Unfortunately her quiet period of reflection also allowed her plenty of time to think about Lord Carleton. She missed him and wondered what he was doing and whether he thought of her at all. More than once she was tempted to dress as Peter again and seek him out but she knew this would be fatal to her plans. She made a bargain with herself that she would not try and see him again until she was accepted by Lady Murray, she was not sure what she would do if the plan failed. Did she love him enough, or too much, to become his mistress? Providing he still wanted her of course.