The Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer

Speculation concerning the result of my Lord Barham's coming meeting in Grosvenor Square was in abeyance. The strange flight of the Merriots formed the topic of every conversation in Polite Circles. It was a seven-days' wonder, and society was greatly put out to think it had received this couple with open arms. It was felt that my Lady Lowestoft had been very much to blame, and quite a number of people who heard my lady's lamentation felt a glow of superiority. They had a comfortable conviction that they would never have been so foolish as to invite such a chance-met pair to stay. One or two persons had an odd idea that they had heard my lady say she was acquainted with the Merriots' father, but when they mentioned this my lady was positively indignant. Voyons, how could she have said anything of the sort when she had never set eyes on the elder Mr. Merriot? She had been most grossly deceived; no one could imagine how great was the kindness she had shown the couple; she had had no suspicion of foul play. When she heard that Mr. Merriot was taken by the law for the killing of Gregory Markham she was so shocked, so astonished, she could scarcely speak. And then, next morning, to find Kate flown, and a horse gone from her own stables -- oh, she was prostrated. The affair was terrible -- she believed she would never recover.

It seemed like it indeed. Society grew tired of hearing her on this subject, for she could talk of naught else. And where had the Merriots gone? Who were the men who snatched Peter from the coach? One had undoubtedly been the servant, John, but who was the other? The unfortunate gaolers swore to a man of gigantic size, but no one paid much heed to that. It was the sort of exaggeration one would have expected.