‘At least they feed you in prison,’ said Jason.
‘What were the servants thinking of, to leave her there like that?’
‘Perhaps the kids wouldn’t hand over the key.’
‘Little monsters,’ said Jenna. ‘They must have felt desperate, to do this, though.’
‘So, does she get out?’ hinted Jason. ‘Or is she the skeleton, hidden there after dying of starvation or something?’
Lord help me
I am lost
I send you my prayers
The last will and testament of Miss Frances Manning, being of sound mind. Am I of sound mind? And I have nothing to bequeath, save my engagement ring, which is for David. May he have joy of it, and know that I would have been a good and true wife, given the chance.
February 23rd
Thank heavens. He has returned and I am free.
When I awoke yesterday, there was a bat in the clothes drawer. It flew straight out into my face when I opened it to remove my underwear. I must have screamed fit to bring the house down but still nobody came.
Another cruel trick, designed to make me think I am haunted. They will not defeat me. I will not succumb.
Finally, one of the maids released me this morning. I think they knew that David would be back later and feared the consequences of his finding me imprisoned.
‘Where are the girls?’ I demanded to know, but Eliza shook her head and would not say. ‘For the love of God, bring me food and water,’ I said. ‘For I am fit to faint. How could you let them use me thus? How?’
She shook her head and disappeared. I called after her that I would be telling David all that had passed.
When he arrived, oh, the relief of it. The sound of his carriage was the sweetest music. I ran out to greet him, ahead of the servants who lined up in the porch. Of the girls, there was still no sign.
‘Oh, thank heavens you are back,’ I cried, and only then did I break down into a torrent of grief. I had been withholding it for hours, perhaps in the knowledge that nobody would care overmuch if I did collapse. But I knew my David would tend to me and hold me close.
At least, I thought he would. Instead, he seemed put out by my tears and begged me to contain myself.
‘Whatever could the matter be, Fan?’ he asked, and he sounded cross. ‘And where are the girls?’
‘I do not know for they have not shown their faces since they shut me in my room and locked the door.’
‘They did what?’
‘Come inside, dearest, and I will tell you. Oh dear. I trust you had a good journey? And London was to your liking?’
‘You are babbling, Frances. Come inside. At least let a man put aside his luggage and take off his hat before assailing him with all this preposterousness.’
In the drawing room with his whisky poured and his top waistcoat button undone, I told him all that had happened in his absence and he was not pleased to hear any of it.
He called for the girls and lo! they appeared, most impeccably turned out with ribbons in their ringlets and snowy white pinafores – quite unlike the grubby urchins I had last seen.
‘Now, now, you two,’ he said without preamble, cutting into their prepared speech to welcome him home. ‘What’s this I hear about shutting Miss Manning in her room and locking her up?’
They, the pair of slyboots, gave each other the most startled look – quite convincing it was, too – and swore on their lives that they had no idea what he was talking about.
‘Now, do not try to play the innocents with me. I will have the servants in. They will be able to give me the truth of the matter.’ He turned to me, frowning. ‘Surely a servant would have come looking for you?’
‘They were in on it,’ I said. ‘It was a conspiracy.’