Miss Fanshawe's Fortune - Linore Rose Burkard Page 0,53

annual sum came to Frannie’s mama each year, and therefore they say it can only continue, and then there’s the trust fund to follow. I assure you,” she added with a smiling glance at Frannie, “Mr. Harley will not rest until ‘tis settled, and it shall be done to everyone’s satisfaction.”

Frannie frowned. Mrs. Arundell surely did not understand the matter could never be solved for “everyone’s” satisfaction, for the Fanshawes would hardly be satisfied if Frannie were indeed assigned the trust. Nor, if the matter was settled to their satisfaction, could it be equally so to Frannie’s. She was about to object but the boys’ mother gave her a quelling look. Shaking her head as if to dismiss the notion that further discussion was necessary, she said, “Let us not speak further on it—money, we all know, is a vulgar subject.”

But Frannie could not remain silent. Mrs. Arundell’s intention was generosity itself, but all Frannie’s fears of being found less than respectable one day made her loath to accept it. She said, “Ma’am, I thank you, but I have two gowns I have not yet worn. They are too fine for casual evenings at home, and I have not had need of them. They will answer perfectly for Gloucestershire.”

“My dear,” she replied, putting one hand upon Frannie’s and patting it. “I have examined your wardrobe. I own, those gowns you mention are very agreeable, but you need one that is especially fine for our visit.”

Frannie wondered if the lady still had hopes of making a match between her and Sir Hugo. Her heart sank. “Ma’am,” she ventured, “I maintain, my gowns are sufficient; I have no desire to bespeak new ones.”

“Nonsense,” returned the lady, smiling. She turned to the men. “Is our Frannie’s attitude not refreshing? She is the farthest thing from a grasping female!” Turning back to Frannie she added, “But as Edward noted, all women must adore a new gown. And since this is my gift to you, there is nothing in it to dislike.” Frannie opened her mouth to object, but the boy’s mother put a finger to her lips. “Not another word, my dear! I won’t hear it.”

Mrs. Arundell had made up her mind. Frannie turned a perplexed stare upon Sebastian, a silent plea. She saw thoughts roiling in his eyes. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and set it down. Now he would set Mrs. Arundell straight—that nothing was certain as far as Frannie’s trust fund was concerned and that they ought not put out extra expense for one not entitled to the trappings of wealth. But to Frannie’s concern he said to his mother, “So be it, dearest. Frannie is become a part of our family circle,” he added, giving her a look of benign approval, “so we ought indeed to furnish her a new gown under the circumstances.” Mrs. Arundell thanked him prettily, and then cast a dazzling smile at Frannie.

“Thank you, sir,” Frannie said in a small voice. Would they regret this generosity if she was discovered to be illegitimate? Would Mrs. Arundell rue the day she came to stay with them? Oh, that fateful day when Edward had nearly run her down on Monmouth Street! If the worst were true, and the Arundells were forced to reject her, she could almost wish that Edward’s curricle had not missed.

Ninety minutes or so later the carriage containing Frannie and Mrs. Arundell pulled away from the house on King Street. “I have a particular gown in mind for you,” the lady said, turning earnestly to Frannie. “And I know just the right modiste for it. Lady Russell uses her exclusively and swore me to secrecy—but I can tell you, I’m sure, for you won’t go gadding it all over town.” She produced a copy of the latest Bell’s Court and Fashionable Magazine, opened to an earmarked page, and pointed at a beautiful confection of peach satin, elaborately embroidered with pearls and spangles, short puffed sleeves, and a train at back. The neckline was square, with a standing lace collar—the kind the Empress Josephine had favored and which was still all the mode—and overall, dazzlingly elegant.

“That is too fine a gown for me, ma’am, and certainly for Gloucestershire!” Frannie said.

“But you’ll use it again for the Season next year!” Mrs. Arundell smiled sweetly. “You see, I haven’t entirely forgot economy.”

Frannie was now deeply suspicious that the older lady’s plan was to make her the wife of the baronet. But surely she should not wish