does not indulge often,’ he said, his voice prim. ‘He has a severe headache this morning. From the blow to his head,’ he added.
And she’d hazard a guess that wasn’t the only cause, Julia thought, and then wished she had taken time to make her appearance tidier. She pulled the mob cap straight, and bit her lips, a trick she had seen Fanny use to redden them.
‘The gentleman’s in the parlour,’ Herr Ritter intervened, and Julia nodded, and followed the valet towards the room indicated.
* * * *
When Sir Carey awoke, his first thought was for his aching head, and his second a confused recollection that he had seen Julia Marsh bending over him the previous evening. Had it been a dream? Had she really been there, and if so, why? How had she come to be here? He’d seen no sign of anyone else from her party, no Lady Cunningham, no Mr or Mrs Pryce, no little girls. They had left Vienna several days before he had, and he would have expected them to be much farther on the way home by now.
He gave up thinking about that. It was a puzzle he could not resolve by himself. His head ached abominably. He put his hand up to where the pain was most severe, and felt the bump on the side of his head. That was it. He remembered some fisticuffs. Why? Had he been attacked for some reason? That seemed unlikely within a respectable inn, and he had no recollection of going outside, where he might have been the object of robbery. His fighting was confined to Gentleman Jackson’s rooms at number 13 New Bond Street, and he indulged more as a means of keeping in trim than because he was naturally bellicose.
There was a gentle tap on the door and Tanner put his head round it. ‘Do you wish to get up yet, Sir Carey?’ he asked. ‘You did say you wanted to set off the moment it was light. That is, it was your intention last night, before you sustained your injury.’
Sir Carey groaned. ‘Before I made a confounded fool of myself,’ he said. ‘Why was I fighting?’
Tanner came into the room. ‘The man was molesting the young person,’ he explained. ‘She did not appear willing, so you knocked him down.’
‘He must have knocked me down too, to cause this lump.’
‘No, sir. There was beer on the floor, and you slipped, and hit your head on one of the stools.’
‘I remember. And the girl? Was it she who was pressing cold cloths on my head?’
‘Yes, sir, though the innkeeper soon sent her away so that he and I could put you to bed.’
Despite his headache, Sir Carey grinned. ‘So you preserved my modesty?’
Tanner handed him a glass full of some white liquid. ‘Drink this, sir. I found it very effective with my former master, who was one of the Prince Regent’s intimates.’
‘And went to bed roaring drunk every night?’ Sir Carey commented, and after a disgusted look at the glass, took it and quickly drained the contents.
Half an hour later, feeling considerably better, he was downstairs in the parlour waiting for breakfast. He needed several cups of coffee to continue the good work Tanner’s potion had started. Rolls and a few slices of beef and ham would be welcome, too, though he did not feel up to tackling eggs yet.
Then he recalled his dream of seeing Julia Marsh. Had it been a dream? He could soon settle that, at least.
‘Tanner, go and ask the girl who helped me last night to come here, please. I need to thank her.’
* * * *
Fanny and the Pryces reached the coast more swiftly than they had expected, but had to wait two days for a passage. She had sunk into a dull lethargy, unable to think ahead or make plans.
‘It is natural in your condition, my dear,’ Elizabeth tried to reassure her. ‘You are tired, you have been under considerable strain, and this journey has been long and tiresome. I am weary enough of it. But we will be in England soon, and then in London, where you will be able to rest.’
‘You are very good to me. I wonder how far behind Julia is?’
‘Not far, a few days only,
And she’d hazard a guess that wasn’t the only cause, Julia thought, and then wished she had taken time to make her appearance tidier. She pulled the mob cap straight, and bit her lips, a trick she had seen Fanny use to redden them.
‘The gentleman’s in the parlour,’ Herr Ritter intervened, and Julia nodded, and followed the valet towards the room indicated.
* * * *
When Sir Carey awoke, his first thought was for his aching head, and his second a confused recollection that he had seen Julia Marsh bending over him the previous evening. Had it been a dream? Had she really been there, and if so, why? How had she come to be here? He’d seen no sign of anyone else from her party, no Lady Cunningham, no Mr or Mrs Pryce, no little girls. They had left Vienna several days before he had, and he would have expected them to be much farther on the way home by now.
He gave up thinking about that. It was a puzzle he could not resolve by himself. His head ached abominably. He put his hand up to where the pain was most severe, and felt the bump on the side of his head. That was it. He remembered some fisticuffs. Why? Had he been attacked for some reason? That seemed unlikely within a respectable inn, and he had no recollection of going outside, where he might have been the object of robbery. His fighting was confined to Gentleman Jackson’s rooms at number 13 New Bond Street, and he indulged more as a means of keeping in trim than because he was naturally bellicose.
There was a gentle tap on the door and Tanner put his head round it. ‘Do you wish to get up yet, Sir Carey?’ he asked. ‘You did say you wanted to set off the moment it was light. That is, it was your intention last night, before you sustained your injury.’
Sir Carey groaned. ‘Before I made a confounded fool of myself,’ he said. ‘Why was I fighting?’
Tanner came into the room. ‘The man was molesting the young person,’ he explained. ‘She did not appear willing, so you knocked him down.’
‘He must have knocked me down too, to cause this lump.’
‘No, sir. There was beer on the floor, and you slipped, and hit your head on one of the stools.’
‘I remember. And the girl? Was it she who was pressing cold cloths on my head?’
‘Yes, sir, though the innkeeper soon sent her away so that he and I could put you to bed.’
Despite his headache, Sir Carey grinned. ‘So you preserved my modesty?’
Tanner handed him a glass full of some white liquid. ‘Drink this, sir. I found it very effective with my former master, who was one of the Prince Regent’s intimates.’
‘And went to bed roaring drunk every night?’ Sir Carey commented, and after a disgusted look at the glass, took it and quickly drained the contents.
Half an hour later, feeling considerably better, he was downstairs in the parlour waiting for breakfast. He needed several cups of coffee to continue the good work Tanner’s potion had started. Rolls and a few slices of beef and ham would be welcome, too, though he did not feel up to tackling eggs yet.
Then he recalled his dream of seeing Julia Marsh. Had it been a dream? He could soon settle that, at least.
‘Tanner, go and ask the girl who helped me last night to come here, please. I need to thank her.’
* * * *
Fanny and the Pryces reached the coast more swiftly than they had expected, but had to wait two days for a passage. She had sunk into a dull lethargy, unable to think ahead or make plans.
‘It is natural in your condition, my dear,’ Elizabeth tried to reassure her. ‘You are tired, you have been under considerable strain, and this journey has been long and tiresome. I am weary enough of it. But we will be in England soon, and then in London, where you will be able to rest.’
‘You are very good to me. I wonder how far behind Julia is?’
‘Not far, a few days only,
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