Miss Fanshawe's Fortune - Linore Rose Burkard Page 0,28

his eyes. “And you, sir,” she said in an equally sober tone. Watching the pair, Sebastian’s mind did a cartwheel. Of course! Why had he never guessed it? There was something of a tragic romance in their past, he’d swear upon it! While the two still surveyed each other, he said heartily, “Neither of you are Methuselahs. Now go and enjoy the ball.”

His mother turned to him. “We shall, dearest, but do not forget to ensure that the servants snuff out all the candle lamps in this room as soon as you vacate it. Last week I came home well after midnight and found two burning in the corridor and two more in the first parlour! We must not leave them unattended!”

“Am I to play butler tonight?” he asked, with a wan smile. Seeing her face fall, he hurriedly said, “Depend upon it, dearest, not a single candle will remain lit a moment longer than absolutely necessary. Now be off!” When they’d gone, he thought back to Sir Hugo’s reaction upon spying his mother. Something had drained the man’s colour. He did not think it likely that Sir Hugo could be in love with her, for they’d barely crossed paths in more than two decades. No doubt a romance was part of the history between them, a tragic romance to be sure, but that was long in the past. It could hardly account for the look of shock on Sir Hugo’s face. Thinking back on it, he remembered that Frannie had been in the doorway with Mama. But she, certainly, could have nothing to do with the baronet.

He had never sufficiently pressed his mother to explain the long-standing grudge that until now, had kept their family aloof from Sir Hugo. Sir Malcolm’s recalcitrant nature seemed a mere excuse, an easy thing to fall back on as her reason, but Sebastian knew it had more to do with the son than the father. Unfortunately, if he pressed his mama, she became exasperated and petulant, and so he’d let the matter lie. But the time had come. He must unearth the past.

Frannie hurried down the corridor after leaving Mrs. Arundell at the door of the blue saloon. Her quick glance into the room had taken in Sebastian, tall and elegant looking without his spectacles. She could not prevent the rush of color she felt infusing her cheeks simply at sight of him. She was glad to escape to the library where she knew he would leave her in peace. She thought wistfully of the ball and wondered if she would ever meet Princess Charlotte. But if she were to go to some great affair upon Sebastian’s arm, she feared she would never stop gazing at him, so noble he looked in evening wear. In any case, it was better this way, for her to remain out of society. Until she learned precisely who she was—who her father was, and whether she was legitimate—she had no wish to make new acquaintances that might later be denied her. She ought not make any attachments who might spurn her later, nor deepen those with the Arundells. Especially not Sebastian.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Frannie waited anxiously that evening for Mrs. Arundell’s return, despite Sebastian’s coaxing her not to miss her rest. At length, he’d come to the library, found her with no fire, clucked his tongue and told her she’d catch an ague if she wasn’t careful. He went to summon a servant to build a fire, but she wouldn’t hear of it, asking only for the usual one in her bedchamber. She thanked him and curtseyed, and would have fled to her room, there to continue reading by candlelight far from his unsettling presence. But Sebastian, after giving the bell pull a yank, leaned back against the mantel easily and asked her what she was reading.

A very happy hour ensued. A maid started a fire, while Sebastian took from a shelf his favorite book of verse, recommending it to her. He bade the servant remain in the room, no doubt to ensure Frannie’s comfort. She went off to one side and sat watching as Frannie and Sebastian went on to discuss the poetry.

Spying the prayer book beside her, a discussion of its cadences followed, the rise and fall of the words when read aloud. Soon they were discussing the Book of Psalms as poetry, which delighted Frannie for she hadn’t taken Sebastian for the type of man who added private devotion to his church-going. And yet it was

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