Regency Masquerade by Vera Loy

had released him from a private
hell, but then he had felt furiously angry that he had made such a fool of
himself.  Now however, his feelings were more complicated, and sheer amazement
was not the least of them.  How incredible that she should have fenced so well
with Maestro Mancini and outshot his friends and himself so brilliantly.
    “While
you are here Richard,” the Squire was saying, “I was wondering if I might send
Jeremy over to you, to meet your agent and see what the work would entail. 
Give him a chance to decide if that is what he wants to do with his life.”
    Carleton
nodded his agreement.  Jeremy was the son who was interested in learning about
estate management.  Squire Herbert filled him in on the local news until
eventually he took his leave and swung himself onto Diabolo to complete his
appointed round of visits.
    Back
at Chatswood, Frances finished her shooting practice and returned to the
house.  The thought had occurred to her that she might find some reference to
the Murray family in one of the many books in the library.  Mrs Madden showed
her into the room pleasantly enough, but she fancied that for some reason the
housekeeper disapproved of her.  At one time she caught a speculative look in
her eyes and wondered for a moment if by any chance she had guessed she was not
what she seemed.  “She is probably merely anxious to see that I am not imposing
myself on Carleton,” Frances concluded reassuringly.  “Which of course, I am!”
she admitted with a wry smile.  There was a comfortable deep leather armchair
in the library and she curled up cosily in it with a pile of books at her elbow. 
Carleton found her there on his return. Frances immediately stretched her legs
out in a more masculine pose, then sat forward, her arms on her knees.
    “Hullo,
what are you reading?”
    Frances
smiled up at him, “I am looking through some local histories.” She paused and said
consideringly, “You may be able to help me more though.  Do you know anything
about a Lady Julia Murray?”
    He
frowned, “Murray? No I don’t think so... wait a minute, I believe there is an
older lady of that name living in London, but I think her Christian name is
Anna.  Would she be the one?  It is coming back to me now... I remember there
was a daughter, or perhaps two, but I am fairly sure she died some years ago. 
Maddy might know more, shall I ask her?”
    A
disappointed expression came over Frances face as he spoke and she chewed her
lip.  “I do wish he had told me more!” she murmured to herself.
    Carleton
looked at her inquiringly.
    “I
am sorry my lord, it is merely that my father told me to seek out Lady Julia
Murray when I reached London, but I have no idea who she is or what he expected
to come of it!  It is very puzzling.”
    Carleton
pulled up another chair and asked her to tell him her fathers’ exact words. 
She did so and he agreed that it was certainly not much to go on.  “Perhaps she
is some sort of relation?” he queried.  “That would seem to be the most likely
reason he would ask you to find her.”
    “I
hardly think so, after all my father never mentioned her before then.  As I
told you, I don’t know which of the names he used was his own, if any, but I am
sure he never used Murray.”  She answered doubtfully.
    “What
was your mother’s maiden name, do you know?” pursued Carleton.
    “Emerson
I think.”
    He
frowned, “That is not familiar to me either.  Shall I ask Maddy to join us?”
    “Yes,
if she would.”
    Carleton
went off to find her and returned in a few minutes, Mrs Madden puffing slightly
at his heels.  “Have a seat Maddy, I would like to ask you something. A glass
of sherry?”
    The
housekeeper was soon settled comfortably on a chair in front of the fire and
Carleton asked “I was wondering if you knew anything about a Lady Julia Murray
or her family?”
    “Julia
Murray?” repeated the housekeeper, narrowing her eyes in concentration.  “Let
me