agree so far as to keep secret the very name of the father of her child, when to do so must surely give an appearance of a disrespectable nature?”
“As for that, Mrs. Baxter said my mother feared I should take it into my head to seek out my father. She—she must have had a dread of him! Mrs. Baxter said I ought to follow my mother’s example, for we know not what manner of man he is, except that his generosity was most uncharacteristic, as many men separated from a wife give no such support or notice.”
“You are certain they were legally married?” asked Sebastian.
Frannie stared at him, momentarily bereft of speech. “Thunder!” she said lightly. “If they were not—God forbid, sir! But—but—of course they were!” she cried, finally. The idea of their not being married had not occurred to Frannie. But suddenly she had a thought and undid the top frog fastener of her redingote. She felt beneath the ruff of her gown and presently pulled out a chain bearing a gold ring. “What a goose I am!” she said, greatly relieved. “This was my mother’s wedding ring.” She held it out for Sebastian to see, though he could take only a passing look, as he was driving. It appeared to be of gold.
“But if they were married,” Sebastian said, endeavouring to sound merely sensible and not judgmental, “would you not know, at the very least, your father’s name? And why did they live apart?”
Flustered, she gripped the seat, staring ahead. “My mother did not wish me to know him—I think we must surmise this much—though I have not the slightest knowledge why.” A worse suspicion suddenly interposed itself onto her brain. What if it was her father who did not wish to be known? What if, for some unsavoury reason, he was willing to send support, but required absolute anonymity? She felt an awful horror as the implications played in her mind. Her father might be furious if she found him out. Perhaps he would somehow rescind the trust.
And what if the direction of Mr. Arundell’s thoughts, that she was illegitimate, had any bearing in truth? He doubted the marriage had taken place. Suddenly it seemed reasonable to doubt it. Dread and confusion filled her breast as she realized that the implication was not his, but embedded in her circumstances. Why didn’t she know the name of her father? Why, if he and her mother were married, had they not lived as man and wife? Suddenly it seemed absurdly obvious that Mr. Arundell’s thought must be correct. Oh, thunder! Was it true? Why hadn’t she realized it? Why hadn’t Mama or Mrs. Baxter told her?
Frannie swallowed as a hollow thud resounded in her being. Sebastian was right. Her mother would surely have kept the title of ‘lady,’ even separated from her husband. What Englishwoman would not? Agreeing to keep wide of the man was one thing; but to dispense with every right of marriage—that seemed too fantastic a possibility.
Sebastian gave her a sideways, dubious look. “If there was a marriage and a subsequent separation, your father could not legally marry again and sire an heir.” Frannie nodded, miserably aware that he was perfectly right. A nobleman would sooner pursue a divorce, no matter how difficult to obtain, than support a wife secretly when the estrangement left him without an heir. Suddenly a remarkable thought filled her breast. “Sir!” she cried, turning to Sebastian, her face alight.
He looked over and almost smiled at the lovely vision.
“I wonder if I have a brother!” she cried. “Perhaps my parents’ falling out occurred after his birth. Or perhaps we are—twins! Separated when they parted ways. My mother took me, and he got his heir! It would answer as to why he would not seek a divorce!”
Sebastian’s brow creased. “I’ll make some inquiries,” he said. Secretly he thought the idea too fantastical to hold any real merit, but somehow he was not averse to investigating the matter for this lovely, gentle creature. She was earnest and hopeful and young. She was already a blessing to his mama. He must help her if he could.
He said, “If interest payments are still forthcoming, and the agreement was for you to keep yourself scarce, it may not be advantageous to seek out this man.”
“But recall, sir, that I used all I had to pay Mrs. Baxter’s debts, and it is just December. The interest will not come until the end of March, if I am not