Unsuspecting, Frances woke early as usual the next morning and drank her cup of hot chocolate, grimacing a little at the taste, perhaps the milk was not quite fresh today. She had almost finished dressing before the effects of the laudanum began to overtake her and she felt sleepy and a bit dizzy.

"I think I must have caught a chill or something yesterday, Annie, I really don't feel at all well. Perhaps I had better go back to bed for a while, could you please apologise to Lady Murray for me?" Annie helped take off her dress and she lay back down on the bed, then fell into an uneasy dose.

When she awoke some hours later she could not think where she was. She was certainly not in her blue bedroom. She looked around groggily, what the deuce? There was a doll in a crib by the window and a miniature set of chairs in front of the fireplace, it looked as if she was in the nursery. She was lying tucked up in a narrow bed with a white cotton cover, but apart from the children's playthings there was nothing else in the room.

Shakily she got out of bed and went to the door. She looked down disbelievingly, it was locked. "Hello?" she called uncertainly, was she dreaming? There was no sound from the other side of the door and she went to the window and looked out through the bars. Bars? Of course there were bars, she realised, it was a nursery.

Frances was starting to get alarmed and a little angry. Who on earth was playing this trick on her? She knocked loudly on the door, "Hullo? Is anyone there?" she called again.

She continued knocking and shouting for five minutes but there was no response. Eventually she gave up for the moment and looked around the room more thoroughly. It did not take long, there was no furniture other than the bed. Gradually she became aware that she was wearing her camisole and drawers but there were no other clothes in the room. There was however a chamber pot under the bed. She was still feeling rather queasy, so she decided the most sensible thing to do was to lie back down on the bed and wait for whoever it was to come back and tell her what was happening.

Frances had fallen back into a light doze when the door opened and Lady Murray came in accompanied by Tom who was looking both fearful and embarrassed.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, instantly awake.

"You are being confined, for your own safety," replied Lady Murray bluntly. "Your behaviour has been such that I can no longer allow you to leave the house. Dr Russell advised that it would be best if you were removed to a quiet place in the country but until we can arrange that you will remain in this room."

"What in heavens' name are you talking about? What behaviour?" Frances was flabbergasted.

"Your wantoness, your complete lack of modesty and virtue! I have received a letter from Chatswood – ah I see you know what that means! You have been exposed as nothing but a strumpet!" Lady Murray struggled to control herself. "I am certain you must be suffering from a brain fever. Dr Russell has seen you and he agrees with me, however, no relation of mine shall be placed in Bedlam, not even you. A quiet life in the country is the best you can hope for. If you are wise, you will agree with me on this, it will make things so much more pleasant for you."

She smiled grimly. "Dr Russell has left me some medicine for you in case you should become violent, I hope I will not have to use it. I will leave you now. If you are quiet and obedient, Tom will bring you something to eat and drink in a little while, and possibly a book to read."

Frances was too shocked to react when Lady Murray whisked out of the room with Tom behind her and locked the door again. She felt like banging on the door and screaming her head off but she sat down bemusedly on the bed. Think, I must think, not react hysterically, which is what they are expecting I am sure. Perhaps I will play their game for awhile, pretend to capitulate, and wait for an opportunity to escape.

Mrs Pearson was dithering. When she had asked Lady Murray if she could pop up and see Frances she had been told that at the moment it would be too unsettling for her to have visitors, perhaps in a day or two it might be possible.

Although Lady Murray had spoken as if she were distressed when she talked about Frances, her companion was no longer certain that was the truth. She noticed she had stopped using her name. Instead she called her 'that girl' and more than once she had caught a look of triumph on her face which she had been unable to understand. She remembered how bitter had been the breach between Lady Amanda and her mother, how long Lady Murray had held the grudge, was she perhaps now extending it to Frances? Mrs Pearson was certain Amanda would have wanted her to help her daughter if she could. She did not like to disobey her employer but she felt she must see Frances for herself and talk to her.

Waiting until Lady Murray had retired for the night and the house was quiet, Mrs Pearson crept upstairs to the nursery. There was a light in the passage! She stopped at the corner and peered around. She could not believe her eyes, Tom was sitting slumped in a chair in front of the door, giving the strong and unpleasant suggestion of a jailer. Quickly she tiptoed back to her room, something havey-cavey was definitely going on!

John Hopgood was also feeling uneasy about the situation, Frances had not been in touch for several days and this was unlike her. He hunted around for a reason to call on her and discovered a single glove lying forgotten under her bed. He took this, dressed himself in a clean jacket and went around to the servants' entrance of the house on Devonshire Street.

"Please be so good as to tell Miss Frances I am here, I'm Hopgood," he told the young maid who opened the door to him. The girl gave him an odd look and said, "I'll just get Mr Hanson." She returned in a moment with a superior looking man in a frock coat, "And you are?" he asked coldly.

"Miss Frances' manservant," replied John, not liking the look of things at all. He held up the glove.

"You may leave it with me," said the butler. "You may go. The lady in question no longer needs your services, my good man."

"But I must see her!" demanded John. "What about my wages? She still owes me two weeks wages."

The butler frowned at him, "Wait here." He disappeared into the house and returned with ten shillings. "Take this and go, or I will call the constable," he ordered.

"There's no need for that, me fine fellow," said John, taking the money. "I just want what's owing to me." He sauntered off without a backward glance.

There was something very wrong here, he had told Frances it was all too good to be true, but she hadn't listened, and now she was in a right scrape. He needed help, a fancy house like that, there was no way he could get inside. For a moment he imagined what would happen if he went to the Runners and told them a young woman was being held there against her will. They would think he was telling them a Canterbury Tale, either that, or he was in his cups. No-one would believe him.

(Author's Note: If you are enjoying this story, please let me know - all comments are greatly appreciated!)