Miss Fanshawe's Fortune - Linore Rose Burkard Page 0,16
wouldn’t dream of putting Miss Fanshawe’s life in such danger as that,” returned Sebastian instantly. Frannie’s heart went out for the younger brother, but she said nothing. It was not her place; and she could not dislike the thought of Mr. Sebastian Arundell accompanying her.
CHAPTER FIVE
The following morning found Frannie with an unsettled stomach. She was acutely conscious that she was to spend time in Sebastian’s company. She’d prayed thoroughly that morning for the success of the mission, but hadn’t thought to pray for her own poor nerves. When she was seated on the board beside him, she could not help but notice the understated elegance of his figure and dress; or his manners, which were so fine as to make her think he had forgot that she was not perfectly respectable. Was it mere condescension? He’d handed her up to the seat with gentle assiduity. He’d checked to be sure she was ready before giving the reins a slap. He’d inquired if her redingote was sufficiently warm, or would she like a carriage blanket?
En route to the shopping district and the particular street she remembered, she took the opportunity to inquire why the house was kept conspicuously dim in the evenings, for it seemed so to her the prior evening when she had sat in the parlour with Mrs. Arundell. The lady busily worked a tapestry with thread by the barest candlelight, though she chatted companionably about the running of the household, telling Frannie about the usual coming and going of its inhabitants.
“My mother has a dread of fires,” Sebastian explained with a little smile. “When she was a child, a tragical blaze broke out on Upper Grosvenor Street and burned itself, you might say, into her brain. Lady Molesworth and much of her family, besides servants, perished in it. My mother cannot forget the horror.”
He turned a corner onto a wide avenue and said, “But let me inquire of you; what evidence do you have, or can you recall, that proves the existence of your noble benefactor?”
Frannie’s face scrunched into thought. “Besides my mother’s assurances?” She reflected on it a moment. “Mrs. Baxter revealed to me, sir, as she lay dying—” here she had to stop and conquer the now familiar streak of sorrow that rose in her breast for the losses of both her dearest mama and dear Mrs. Baxter—”that what sustained us all my life were interest payments from a trust set aside by my father. She said there was a family feud of some kind; that he was alive but my mother insisted upon the separation.” She turned to him with earnest eyes. “This was the first I ever heard of his being alive, I assure you; my history as my mama gave it, was that my papa died at sea when I was an infant. I had always believed the trust provided only for the smallest part of our upkeep, and that Mrs. Baxter was to be thanked for the better part of it. Indeed, I considered myself so deeply obliged to her that I felt duty-bound to cover her debts when they were presented to me.”
He nodded, listening as he handled the team. “What precisely did she say of your father?”
Frannie shook her head. “All that she knew. But unfortunately my mother, for reasons known only to herself, never disclosed the details of her marriage or separation. All Mrs. Baxter could tell me for certain is that my father is very much alive; and has a title. This much she had from my mother, but no more.” Her face crumpled. “But she assured me, oh, in the strongest terms!”— She gave him a look of utmost earnestness—”that just as my mother said, there was a trust in my name, guaranteed upon my majority! Mrs. Baxter was exceedingly devout, a strict adherent of our faith, I assure you, and would never have invented such things!”
“Sebastian had fallen silent, but now he said, “His supporting you all your life speaks well of his character, but there is no nobleman with the name of Fanshawe, and your mother, I presume, did not style herself Lady Fanshawe, or Lady something or other?”
“She did not,” Frannie admitted, shaking her head.
“Why would a woman not use every honour her marriage afforded?”
Frannie thought hard and remembered something. “Mrs. Baxter said there must exist between my parents an agreement; one that guaranteed our income only so long as she waived the use of her title and all other marital rights.”