Miss Fanshawe's Fortune - Linore Rose Burkard Page 0,19
“It is a terrible thing, sir, to find yourself friendless on the streets of London.” She turned her large, chocolate eyes up to his, and Sebastian found himself saying, “Poor child.” But something in her account had given him second thoughts. “Did you say anything at all about a trust fund to Mrs. Fanshawe?”
Frannie thought for a moment. “No. Only that I was a relation and hoped to know them. I asked if I might have an audience with Mr. Fanshawe.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “In that case, methinks the lady doth protest too much.” He turned to Frannie’s puzzled eyes. “She knew what you were after, or supposed she did. That is, she must be aware of some prize, the trust, let us say; and hopes her own daughter will receive it.”
Frannie gasped. Suddenly Mrs. Fanshawe’s cold antipathy made sense. “Thunder! I fear you are right. She said the only Miss Fanshawe they would acknowledge was her own child.”
“Precisely. But acknowledge to whom?” Sebastian asked. “If this Charles Fanshawe is your father, he would know of a certainty that their daughter is not meant to be the recipient of a fund he put aside for the illegitimate child.” He glanced over. “Begging your pardon, Miss Fanshawe.”
She nodded, lips pursed, at the odious words. Illegitimate child. Since her mother’s death she had believed herself to be an orphan, but the truth, this reminded her, might be far, far worse! She might be the result of a union outside of marriage! Her face coloured rosily.
But now it seemed to Sebastian that Miss Fanshawe’s case might have merit. She was still illegitimate, to be sure, but that she might indeed be entitled to a fortune of some substantial amount seemed probable. Why else would Mrs. Fanshawe have been so hostile? Unless she hoped to secure it for her own daughter? There were cases where men had treated their illegitimate offspring with largesse, sometimes granting them lesser titles, even. If Frannie’s sire was extremely wealthy, he might indeed be liberal enough to grant her some fortune of her own.
He turned to his companion with fresh energy. “I suspect this man, as you yourself surmised, must have full knowledge of the trust and is involved in the business, though I have yet to ascertain what his role is, or has been.”
As they turned a busy corner, he said, “Tell me again what you said to Mrs. Fanshawe when you arrived at her doorstep. Word for word, if you please.” He listened closely, as they had reached the bustling warehouse district and had to speak above the din of street vendors, besides much traffic of other carriages, wagons and carts.
Frannie thought back to the horrible encounter. She took a shuddering breath. “I told her my name, Frances Fanshawe, and claimed to be a relation. I trusted that when my name was given to Mr. Fanshawe, he would grant me an audience so I could plead my case. At the very least I hoped to ascertain, with his help, temporary lodging whose direction I could furnish to the postmaster.”
“And the lady flew into the boughs immediately?” he asked, his eyes keenly stealing glances at her while he maneuvered the equipage along the busy street. It wasn’t the highbrow shopping district of the upper class, and Sebastian wished they’d come in a closed carriage, for their presence was being noted by many on the street.
Frannie nodded unhappily. “No sooner than I claimed the connexion. She seemed astonished and demanded to know how I’d found them; and then went on to insult and threaten me in the most horrifying manner!” She turned to him. “I cannot say I was entirely surprised, for I had no great hopes of being welcomed wholeheartedly by Mr. Fanshawe, were he my father, after he took such pains to remain aloof. And I can hardly blame the woman for not taking kindly to the knowledge of my existence—.”
But here Sebastian interrupted her. “But it wasn’t that. She resented your appearing, which suggests she already knew of your existence. More, that you are in pursuit of something she hopes you will not acquire. Something, I begin to believe, she covets for her own daughter.” As he directed the team past a standing wagon, he added, “I daresay she has a cloven foot in the business.”
Frannie looked admiringly at Sebastian. “Thunder! I warrant, sir, if you wanted employment, that Bow Street could do no better than to have you! To think, that you could see so much