Regency Masquerade

Chapter Nine

Meanwhile, Frances had returned to the Pelican and was telling John that the Comte Duverne was in London.

He looked simultaneously worried and relieved, "Well that'll put an end to your gallivanting about town at least! You'll have to stay here while he is in London."

She sighed rebelliously. "I could still go out as Diana Murray!" she said with sudden inspiration.

Her servant rolled his eyes heavenwards. He shook his head as he took her boots out with him to clean, that was not even worth a reply!

Frances kept to her room for as long as she could bear it the next day, which was in fact only until she remembered her arrangement to meet Harry Belmont for shooting practice that afternoon. Feeling only slightly guilty for worrying John and keeping a careful eye out for the Comte she sallied forth to the pistol gallery and spent an enjoyable hour or so with her newest friend.

On her return to the Pelican some hours later, she was met by the innkeeper's wife, wringing her hands and alternately excusing herself and foretelling disaster. The gentleman had seemed so respectable, foreign of course, but she had had no idea he was going to turn out to be a murderer so she had let him sit in her best parlour to wait and then Sally had come screaming down the passage and Will had raced straight up and found Mr Hopgood crumpled on the floor as white and still as-

At this point the bewildered Frances realised something had happened to John. She grasped the woman's arm, giving her a little shake, and begged her to tell her quickly where he was and what had happened. She looked up at her somewhat affronted.

"That's what I've been telling you, sir! He was struck down by this foreigner, white as a sheet he was. We've put 'im to bed and sent Joe for the doctor. Doctor's here now, you can go up and see 'im if you'd like to."

"Yes indeed." Frances followed Mrs Cobb up the stairs, she was still talking though rather breathlessly as she climbed. "Hit on the head, my Will says. And such a fancy coat he had on too, I'd never have thought it. What d'ye think he was after, sir? I couldn't see anything missing from your room, not at a quick glance that is. I'll expect you'll want to see for yourself." They reached the door of John's room which was next to Frances' and entered after a soft knock.

The doctor, a middle-aged, harassed looking man with spectacles was just about to take his leave. He turned to face them questioningly, clutching his black case.

"How is he, doctor?'' asked Frances anxiously.

"Concussed - not too badly I don't think, but he'll need to stay quietly in bed for about a week and then take things easily for a while. He'll need nursing for the first two or three days. I can recommend someone if you like. It will cost you a few shillings but Mrs Brown is better than most."

"Thank you, doctor, I'd be very grateful," Frances paid his fee and took down the name and address of the nurse. John was lying pale and still under the blankets but the doctor assured her there was nothing she could do but let him rest. Frances arranged with Mrs Cobb to have the nurse fetched, then suggested they go downstairs for a glass of sherry while she told her what had happened.

It appeared that a man had come to the inn just as dusk was falling, and asked to be directed to the room of Peter Francis. Although he was foreign, he was so well dressed and ever so politely spoken, that she had felt no hesitation in giving him the information. She had put him in her best parlour to wait for his return, and Will had taken him a bottle of burgundy which he'd ordered and left him to it.

The villain had then apparently crept upstairs and somehow attacked Mr Hopgood. The door to Frances' room had been ajar and the unconscious servant lying inside, so that one could only assume that the villain had broken in and been lying in wait for either Mr Francis or Mr Hopgood. After the brutal attack, the stranger had returned to the parlour, then come out as bold as brass to announce that he could not wait any longer.