The Lords & Ladies Box Set

by Fenella J Miller

  *

  The gentleman meant well, but Charlotte had had quite enough of that when she was at home, and had no intention of allowing a perfect stranger dictate to her how she should behave. However, if she had known the room would be full of unclothed men she would have listened to him. It seemed sensible, on this occasion, to follow his instructions.

  Downstairs the evacuation had turned to chaos. Those that had just woken were shouting and screaming in their panic. The smoke was thick, her eyes streamed and her chest heaved, it was becoming impossible to breathe. She saw a young woman with a baby in her arms and two small children clinging to her skirts.

  'Here, madam, let me help you.' Charlotte bent down and snatched up the two children. 'Come along with me, little ones, Mama shall follow right behind. We must get out into the fresh air.'

  Scarcely ten minutes had passed since she'd roused the first room, but already the building was well ablaze. She prayed there was a fire station close by, that pumps and men might soon arrive to douse the flames. The Green Man stood slightly apart, with luck sparks wouldn't travel to nearby buildings and cause further devastation.

  Most folk had now staggered into the night; there was only this woman and her children and the men from upstairs to come. It would be a relief to be outside in the fresh air. The children were too quiet, she prayed it was not be too late to save them. With her breath rasping in her throat she staggered out into the moonlight to pass her burden into willing arms. No sooner were they out of the choking smoke than the children rallied, coughing and spluttering and crying for their mother.

  The night was not chill, no one should catch their death of cold tonight. The lanterns had been lit and folk from round about were streaming in to guide those rescued from the fire back to their own homes. Where was the landlord? Surely he should take charge of this milling crowd and bring order out of confusion. The woman she had helped gripped her hand.

  'My dear, I should not have got out safely without your timely assistance. Please, hold my baby. I must go back and help my mother, she is infirm and cannot manage the stairs alone.'

  'No, you remain here. I saw which room you emerged from, I shall go back and fetch your mother. The children are better here with you.'

  Taking her hood she dipped it in a nearby water barrel and then , pulling it across her mouth and nose, ran back into the smoke. There were still one or two people thundering down the stairs, mostly men in nightshirts. Outside the room she met the man she had woken first.

  'Good God! Why are you not outside? What are you doing here?'

  'There is a woman trapped in this room, she is lame, we must get her out before it is too late.'

  She burst into the room to find an elderly lady sitting calmly on a chair apparently unbothered by the pandemonium and the fact that her room was rapidly filling with smoke.

  'Your daughter sent me to fetch you, madam.'

  'I can't walk unaided, my dear, but I shall do my best.' The old lady smiled widely. 'Sensible girl, you've brought your young man to carry me. Now I'm sure he will get me out safely.'

  'Soak your cloak and those towels and then drape them over your face. Come along, madam, your carriage awaits.' The man tossed Charlotte his bag to carry, smothered the old lady with wet towels and wrapped one around his own head. Then with the invalid in his arms he turned to her. 'You go first, I shall hold on to the back of your cloak, you must lead us to safety.'

  The heat belching up from below was hideous, the smoke all but impenetrable. The only way she could get them out would be to close her eyes and use her memory to guide them. This chamber was directly opposite the flight of stairs so she must clutch the banister and let it guide her down.

  It was impossible to breathe, the wet cloak across her mouth and nose was of some assistance, but it wasn't enough. If they didn't get outside quickly they would all perish. Her knees cracked painfully on the newel post. Thank God! The heat was blistering her hands, the sound of masonry descending ever closer. The front door stood open, this was adding to the conflagration, but the voices outside were guiding her to safety.

  There were ten paces to reach the exit, she strode out bravely counting in her head, her hands outstretched. She could feel the tug on her cloak and knew the man and his burden were right behind her. Then she crashed into the wall. She had no idea in which direction to go to find the door. Then the man nudged her to the left. How could he possibly know that this was the correct way? Then she felt it, there was a faint breeze on her left cheek. She rushed forward and emerged, choking, into the clear night air. Her eyes were stinging and her lungs rasped. Her knees buckled and she fell forward, unable to prevent herself and she cracked her head on the cobbles. Blackness overwhelmed her.

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte awoke in a strange environment. Her hands were bandaged, her head also, but she had no recollection of what could have caused these injuries. With difficulty she turned her head to see a strange young woman sitting by her bedside.

  'Oh, Miss Edwards, thank the good Lord you have come round at last. I shall fetch the master, he has been most anxious these past few days.'

  Miss Edwards? Who was she? This was not a name she was familiar with. Her stomach lurched. How did she come to lose her memory and be in this unfamiliar bedchamber?

  She was wearing a fine cotton nightdress, the bed linen smelt faintly of lavender so this must be the home of someone well-to-do. The chamber contained a washstand with a matching commode; there were luxurious velvet curtains hanging on either side of the windows. From the noise outside she was sure she was in a city, or at least a bustling market town.

  Hurrying footsteps approached and the door was flung open. A total stranger stood framed there. He was more than two yards high, his hair a strange mix of red and brown like a fox's pelt. His eyes were as green as glass. She had no idea who he was. She shrank back under the covers, surely it was not right for a strange man to be in her bedchamber?

  Seeing her recoil the man smiled reassuringly. 'My dear Miss Edwards, allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor James Hunter, at your service.'

  A doctor? Is that why she was in his house? Was he taking care of her after some accident or other? 'I am sorry, I don't remember anything. Who am I? What am I doing here?'

  He moved smoothly to the side and drew up a small bentwood chair. 'My dear girl, I am not surprised you recall nothing. It's not uncommon for a head injury to cause amnesia. More often than not the memory returns within a short space of time. I can tell you this, you are one, Miss C. Edwards. It has been established that you were travelling with your abigail to Colchester.' Something flashed in his eyes.

  'I have a maid? Where is she?'

  'I'm afraid, Miss Edwards, that she lost her life saving others in the fire.'

  Her throat constricted, she had no recollection of this girl, but felt a natural grief that any young woman should die in such a hideous way. 'A fire? Tell me what happened.'

  Doctor Hunter explained and then informed her she was now residing in his house in Brook Street. Told her he'd transported her there when it was apparent she was not going to regain her senses immediately.

  Her throat was raw and talking too painful. 'Did many perish in the fire?'

  He frowned. 'Not as many as would have if you and your maid had not roused the place. Unfortunately the landlord and his family died, the fire started in the kitchen and their accommodation was directly above. Apart from these, two further guests were killed by smoke inhalation and not by the flames, I hasten to add.'

  This was some consolation. 'Are we acquainted, sir? I do not understand why you should have brought me here unless we are in some way connected.'

  He shook his head, smiling faintly. 'We worked together to save the lives of several of the guests, but your bravery saved my own life. This was why I thought you deserved better than to be placed in a hospital. You are receiving far better care from me.'

  'I have no idea from whence I came or of my destination
. I suppose my belongings were incinerated along with the building?'

  'Unfortunately they were. The Green Man was razed to the ground, two adjacent buildings also. Romford has never seen the like, the conflagration will be talked of for many years to come. That the loss of life was no worse was due entirely to your efforts, my dear.'

  'I must thank your… your wife for the loan of her belongings.'

  He looked uncomfortable. 'I am unmarried, Miss Edwards. However, I have several acquaintances with wives who were only too ready supply you with what you lacked. When you are ready to get up you'll find your closet well-stocked.' He gestured to the girl hovering in the background. 'This is Daisy, she is to be your dresser now. You must stay with me until someone comes to claim you, or you recover your memory and I can return you to your family.'

  Charlotte flopped back on the pillows, closing her eyes to blot out his words. It made no sense, why had no one noticed she was missing? Why were her friends and relatives not clamouring to recover her?

  She forced her heavy lids open. 'I am too fatigued to talk further, Doctor Hunter, I thank you for your care, but I would prefer to be alone.'

  'Of course, sleep is the best restorative and I must away to do my rounds. I shall not be here until evening. However, anything you want will be supplied to you. Consider this your home until you find your own, my dear.'

  Charlotte closed her eyes. Why did he lard his conversation with endearments when they were unknown to each other? Was there something more to this arrangement than he was telling her? She allowed her mind to drift, hoping some fragment of her past might return. How strange that that although she knew nothing about herself, she was well aware of one thing. As soon as she was able to rise from her bed u she would leave this bachelor establishment. Whoever she was, her reputation would be in tatters if it became known she was residing here.

  Sometime later she was woken by the sound of the door opening, warily she raised her head and saw an older woman, dressed expensively but not in the first stare of fashion, smiling at her from the doorway.

  'Miss Edwards, I must apologise for not being here when you awoke. I was visiting the circulating library to collect some novels for you to read when you are feeling more the thing. It was unpardonable of my son to visit you in your bedchamber, I shall take him firmly to task for doing so when he turned this evening.'

  Charlotte wished to sit up and talk to Mrs Hunter, but found this was impossible with the bandages on her hands. 'Allow me to assist you, my dear. Daisy has gone to fetch lunch, she will be back momentarily.'

  With deft hands the lady eased her upwards until she was sitting comfortably against the pillows. 'There, my dear, your colour is a little better this afternoon, I'm glad to say.'

  'Doctor Hunter did not tell me you were living here, madam, I've been having the most fearful thoughts about… well about being unchaperoned in a bachelor establishment.'

  Her hostess patted her hand. 'Silly boy, it would not have occurred to him to mention it. He has no time for the niceties of society, he believes that people should be free to be themselves and not restricted by convention.'

  'Good heavens! I cannot believe that's a popular notion, will he not be mistaken for a Chartist or a radical?'

  The lady chuckled. 'Indeed, he is already. Fortunately his skill as a physician outweighs his unpopular opinions. He has an excellent private practice here, but his main love is working with the poorer people on the other side of the city. He's a good man, my dear, but as bigoted in his views on the aristocracy as the revolutionaries were in France.'

  A door on the far side of the room opened and Daisy reversed into the chamber bearing a tray. 'I have your lunch here, Miss Edwards, shall I place it across your knees?'

  Charlotte looked ruefully at her bandaged hands. 'I feel so helpless, my stomach is rumbling in anticipation of food, but I fear I cannot feed myself.'

  'That is why we are both here, my dear. You would not credit the number of enquiries, the letters and the gifts, that have been pouring in to this house from those that you saved last week. You are quite the heroine, indeed there have been several gentlemen from the press here wishing to interview you.'

  'I have no wish to speak to anyone, ma'am, I can remember nothing. Hopefully my memory will return soon, but until then I'm just grateful that you are prepared to take care of me.'

  Several days went by before Charlotte felt herself well enough to dress. The doctor had visited to remove the cumbersome bandages and replace them with smaller dressings. Now she could use her thumb to grip a spoon and felt less helpless, less dependent. She had no idea what her given name was, she had rehearsed all the names that began with the letter C, but none seemed familiar.

  She was Miss Edwards to Dr Hunter and his mother, so the matter was not of too much importance at the moment. Now she was deemed well enough to spend the afternoon in the sitting-room adjacent to her bedchamber, the novels that Mrs Hunter had supplied were enough to occupy her. However she was pleased to receive an unexpected visit from her host as she had an urgent question for him.

  'Doctor Hunter, how is it that I can read and talk when I have no memory of my past?'

  'It's not unusual for a patient who has suffered a head injury to be able to recall skills but still be unable to remember who they are.' He smiled and his strange green eyes crinkled at the corners. 'It's also considered by some physicians, and I am one of them, that an emotional trauma can do the same.' He paused as if considering how to phrase his next sentence. 'It has occurred to me, Miss Edwards, that you could have been running away from something, travelling incognito, and that is why no one has come forward to enquire for you.'

  Something slipped through her mind at his words but she could not quite grasp it. This would explain why she felt uncomfortable with her name, as if it did not belong to her. 'I believe that you might be correct, Doctor Hunter, I too have the feeling that Edwards is not my name.'

  'You must not dwell on it at the moment, my dear, these things are best left to nature. I think you are well enough to dine with us tomorrow, I look forward to your company downstairs.'

  The following evening Charlotte took a leisurely bath and then Daisy dressed her hair becomingly. Her closet was overflowing with borrowed finery and she selected a damask rose silk which fitted as if it had been made for her.

  'How extraordinary to think there is another lady as tall as me amongst Mrs Hunter's acquaintances.'

  'I had to let the hem down, miss, but I doubt you would see where it was done.'

  Charlotte smoothed the material between her fingers, something told her she had never worn anything of this quality before. She mentioned this to her host over dinner.

  'Your own clothes have been long been since disposed of, Miss Edwards, but I examined them carefully and can tell you they were made from good material. When I saw you I thought perhaps you were the daughter of a legal gentleman, or a local squire. That would explain why you feel silk is not your usual fabric.'

  Neither of them referred to their previous discussion, that she might be hiding from her family for some reason. 'It's a lovely gown, I cannot believe the owner was able to donate it to a stranger.'

  The meal continued with casual conversation. However, there was something she had to ask her host. 'Doctor Hunter, it has occurred to me that you might discover my identity by following back my trail. I believe you said I arrived on the mail coach from London, presumably it would be possible to find out where I bought my ticket?'

  He shook his head. 'I have tried that avenue, Miss Edwards. I was able to track you as far as the White Heart, but no one has any idea which mail coach you descended from in order to catch the one for Colchester. It's a busy coaching inn, dozens of vehicles in and out of there all day, and you might not have gone into the building at all.'

  She smiled. 'I know, a plainly dressed woman must go unremarked. I quite understand that. However, I cannot remain here indefinitely. Why should I be a charge on your finances? I
am a complete stranger to you both.'

  Mrs Hunter spoke up fiercely. 'My dear, you certainly are no stranger to us. We have both come to regard you as a dear friend. I am forever in your debt, you led my son to safety on that dreadful night. You must stay here as long as necessary, you are our most welcome guest.'

  Doctor Hunter's eyes glittered strangely. 'I will not hear of you leaving, Miss Edwards. This is your home until someone comes to claim you. However much you might dislike the notion, I consider it my duty to take care of you.'

  She did not like to remonstrate, his words were heartfelt, and if she was honest she had no alternative for the present. Perhaps he had imbibed too much; men became over animated and unpredictable after too many glasses of wine.

  Her cutlery clattered on to her plate. How did she know that? 'Doctor Hunter, I remember something. I must have been living with a gentleman who drinks too much.'

  He exchanged glances with his mother. 'Do not dwell upon it, my dear Miss Edwards. Your memory will return in its own good time.'

  'I beg your pardon…. I did not mean to imply….'

  'Miss Edwards, you'll be relieved to know that you are not in the house of someone with a fondness for liquor. I take a glass of wine with my dinner, and I have been known to have a glass or two of brandy on occasion.'

  'James, my dear boy, I am sure Miss Edwards does not wish to know your drinking habits. Now, my dear, my son assures me your hands will heal with no scars and the final dressings will be removed next week. Until then I think it wise you do not over tax yourself.'

  'I believe that I'm not used to being idle. As soon as I am free of the dressings I wish to make myself useful. I am certain I can sew, I would be happy to help out in that way.'

  'Certainly not, you're a guest in my house. I will not have you doing the work of a servant.'