Back in Devonshire Street, Mrs Pearson did not have such a long wait to be rescued as she had feared. Tom was a hefty young man and after a lot of ramming his shoulder against the door and even kicking it with his foot, he managed to break the lock. The old nurse tottered out behind him as he burst into the passage.

"Oh well done, Tom! I don't think we should wake Lady Murray, do you? After all, there is little to be done until morning in any case. I shall break the news to her first thing ... or perhaps after breakfast? Dear me, I wonder which would be less upsetting?"

Tom was very happy to leave the job of breaking the news to Lady Murray, to Mrs Pearson. At least her ladyship was more likely to have calmed down a little by the time she saw him.

Lady Murray was coldly furious when told the news after breakfast. "Why was I not informed of this immediately?" she demanded harshly.

"I did not want to disturb you," faltered Mrs Pearson. "What could you have done in any case? She must be half way to Dover by now."

Lady Murray stared at her with an arrested expression. "Dover? Yes, I suppose so, it is not as if she has any friends in London who would shelter her! Although I shall send Tom over to the Regent Hotel later today, just to make sure she has not gone back there. It is very aggravating, not to know where she is for certain." She turned to glare at Mrs Pearson, even though she could not actually see her. "I never thought you would be such a fool, Maria, to be taken in by her," she said coldly.

"No, my lady," murmured her companion apologetically.

The next morning, Frances, still dressed as Peter, wrote a letter for John to take to Mrs Pearson, advising her that she was going to marry Lord Carleton by special licence and asking her whether it was possible for her to accompany them on their trip to Brasted; and in addition, whether she would be able to bring all or some of her clothes with her. She added a rider to the effect that if this last was too difficult to do secretly, then not to worry herself about it. She included an invitation for her to spend a few weeks with them at Chatswood and in fact, if she liked, to leave Lady Murray entirely and stay there permanently with them.

John set off to Devonshire Street with the letter, hoping to get a chance to speak to Mrs Pearson alone. However, the butler refused him permission to enter and wait while he summoned the nurse, and John was not willing to entrust the letter to him, so they were at a standstill. He slipped around to the back of the house and hung about until eventually a maidservant came out to empty some slops. A few moments later and a shilling poorer, John was left trying to look as if he had business at the neighbouring house, while he waited for Mrs Pearson to come down to him.

She came out looking flustered and called him over speaking loudly, "I am sorry, my good man, but we do not need a coachman's services here." She bent nearer to whisper to him, "Meet me at the end of the street around four today, I will give you my answer then. Good day to you," she added in her normal voice and turned quickly back to the house. Feeling he had done all he could, John went back to Grosvenor Place.

Carleton returned to the house later that day with the special licence in his hand. He grabbed Frances round the waist and spun her about, "Not long now! Tomorrow we will be off to Brasted! Do you have anything with you to wear as a wedding gown?"

She laughed and looked hastily around to make sure they were not being observed. "I have one gown with me, that will have to do!"

John waited at the end of Devonshire Street for some time before he spotted Mrs Pearson hurrying towards him with a small carpet bag.

"Here." She said, handing it to him. "This was all I could save from Miss Frances' room. Lady Murray has given the rest to the maids or the poor house! Please tell her I cannot accompany her - I would have been very happy to see her wed, but I can think of no reason to give Lady Murray, to explain my disappearance for several days. I do not think it at all wise to tell her the truth!"

The nurse was looking anxiously over her shoulder even as she was speaking to him. "I must not tarry any longer. Please give her my heartfelt wishes for her future happiness!"

"Thank you, ma'am, I will indeed! If perchance you change your mind, we leave from Grosvenor Place tomorrow morning at ten." John bowed his head to her and strode off with the bag clutched in his hand, unaware that he was being followed.

Tom was on his way back to the house in Devonshire Street after a fruitless visit to the Regent Hotel, when he saw Mrs Pearson hand over the carpet bag to a strange man. He stopped and pretended to fiddle with the buckle on his shoe as the stranger passed him. Surely that was the manservant who had come to the house a few days ago, asking to see Miss Frances? There was something havey-cavey going on here! He decided to follow him and see where he went, he had not forgiven Frances for making a may game of him over the locked room.

Frances and Carleton were half way through their dinner when the butler came in with an affronted look on his face. "My lord, there is a person here to see you. He says he is from Bow Street!"

The two exchanged a quick look. Carleton wiped his lips with his napkin and rose to his feet. "Fiend sieze it! Couldn't he wait until after I had eaten? I wonder what business he has with me? Excuse me, Peter, I had better go and see the man."

Peter nodded and slipped quietly up to his room.

Carleton went into the hall where a stout gentleman with a red face was standing uncomfortably.

"Evenin,' my lord," he offered. "We 'ave 'ad a report that a young lady wot is a bit touched in the upper works is stayin' 'ere. The complaint 'as been lodged by Lady Murray, wot is 'er legal guardian, bein' as she is not quite up to snuff, as ye might say."

Carleton's eyebrows had been rising steadily during this. "My good man, what Banbury tale is this?"

"It is my dooty to search these 'ere premises to see if this girl is 'ere or not," persisted the unhappy man.

"What girl?" asked a bewildered Carleton.

" 'er name is Frances Metcalf, my lord, she's run away!"

"Well there is certainly no one going by that name here! I give you my word on it. In fact, Rawlings?" he called the butler. "Do we have any young women staying here?"

"No, my lord." Then he added hesitantly, "Except for Amy and Ellen of course." The runner turned questioningly to him.

"Oh, the maidservants, but they have both with us for years," agreed Carleton. "I do not know Lady Murray nor why she thinks this girl is here, but I can tell you this, you have come on a fools' errand. The only guest I have is male."

The runner drew his breath, "The Lady said the girl might be a young man, my lord."

"Well which is it, a male or a female? Is the woman spinning you a Canterbury Tale? It sounds rather as if she is the one who is queer in the attic!" exclaimed Carleton

"In disguise, my lord," offered the Runner gamely.

"What is keeping you, Carleton?" came a low, world weary voice. Both men looked up to see an exquisite young gentleman descending the stairs, his short hair brushed into the latest fashion, a snowy cravat at his throat and a dark blue coat with points so high he could barely turn his chin. His right hand rested lightly on the smallsword at his side.

"Who is this fellow?" He stared at the Runner and raised a quizzing glass to his eye.

"He is from Bow Street, Peter, he seems to think you are a girl in disguise," explained Carleton, ignoring the Runner's frantic gestures of protest.

The look of offended disbelief that Frances cast on the hapless Runner, nearly overset Carleton's composure entirely.

In one smooth movement the sword was drawn and the point suddenly poised against the Runner's throat. "Would you care to repeat that to my face?" he asked silkily.

"I did not mean ... I beg pardon, a mistake ...!" stuttered the Runner, backing away. "I am sure the Lady was mistook in her convictions. I won't bother you two gentlemen anymore, good night." He practically fled out the door.

"Now, where were we?" asked Carleton leading the way back to the dining room.

"First thing tomorrow, I shall send a complaint to Bow Street," fulminated Peter, in his wake. "I don't know what sort of people they are reduced to hiring, he was obviously foxed, why else come here with such wild accusations?" The two continued to abuse the absent Runner for the benefit of the butler and the footman who were waiting on them, neither of whom noticed the amusement lurking in the back of their lord's eyes.

The next morning, Frances donned her gown and wig and turned herself back into an elegant young woman. She packed her male attire and all her other possessions into the carpet bag provided the previous day by Mrs Pearson, and waited until John and Carleton between them kept the servants occupied elsewhere so that she could slip downstairs and out to the hired carriage. The postboy holding the horses' heads paid her little attention. As she was settling herself and waiting for the others, a short elderly woman carrying a small portmanteau got out of a hackney cab and came tentatively towards the house.

"Mrs Pearson?" she called out the window. The nurse turned to her, "Oh Miss Frances, I am that glad you haven't left yet!" Her eyes were red and she was sniffing into a handkerchief.

"Please get in the carriage, ma'am," invited Frances. "Tell me, what has happened?" The elderly lady got shakily into the carriage leaving her luggage on the footpath.

"Turned off!" she said tearfully. "Me, that was with her more than forty years! I still cannot believe it. And if you cannot take me I don't know what I will do or where I will go!" She started sobbing in earnest.

"My dear lady," said Frances firmly, "Of course you will come with us, to Chatswood! Well, firstly we are going to Brasted to be wed, and then after that to Chatswood. We will be very grateful to have you I can assure you. Ah, here is John now." Hopgood came out with her luggage and stored it on the back of the coach. "Mrs Pearson is coming with us after all, John," explained Frances. "Can you put her case on the back with mine?"

"I think so, if you could take this small bag in with you, Miss," John rearranged the luggage to his satisfaction.

Carleton came out then, and greeted Mrs Pearson politely as Frances told him what had occurred. "Of course you are welcome to stay with us, ma'am," he reiterated warmly.

He had arranged for John to drive the carriage, and he had planned to ride alongside to give as much an appearance of propriety as they could, but he was very glad Mrs Pearson was coming with them and would sit inside with Frances. It would also make it possible for them all to stay overnight in Sevenoaks, if for some reason the rector was unable to perform the ceremony that day.

They set off at last, Rawlings closing the door behind them and wondering furiously who the two unknown women were, in the coach. He was staying in town to oversee the upkeep of the house in its owner's absence, and Fanshaw was to go down to Chatswood by hired chaise later that day so that he would be on hand to attend to Carleton.

Fanshaw himself, was still flabbergasted by the instructions Lord Carleton had given him that very morning.

"I am sure you will be happy to hear that I am getting wed in the next day or so to Miss Frances Metcalf, Henry Metcalf's daughter. You have not yet made her acquaintance as she has been living abroad until very recently." Lord Carleton had given him a very meaningful look at that point which he had not in the least understood.

"I need you to give these instructions to Williams, to inform the staff and prepare the household for its new mistress. And here is another letter for Mrs Madden, she will be going to live with Mr Theo's family for a while. I would greatly appreciate it if she could be taken there as soon as possible."

Although he then added a comment to the effect that Fanny had requested her help with the children, it was apparent to Fanshaw that Mrs Madden had severely angered his lordship. As she had been attached to Mr Richard and the family for years, he wondered uneasily what on earth she had done to earn his displeasure.