Miss Fanshawe's Fortune - Linore Rose Burkard Page 0,57
family by the Fanshawes, but how estranged she felt! How ashamed. Why would they want her for a legitimate relation when for nineteen years they had seen fit not to know her or her mother? She said, “I am, as you might imagine, quite distressed over this…”
“Yes, of course!” the other replied, very kindly. “I am sure it will be found. My mother refuses to believe we are cousins and would rather torment herself with the notion of there being infidelity on my father’s part. She sits upon pinpricks waiting for an explanation.” She shot Frannie a gleam of wicked amusement. “If she were right, we would be half-sisters!” She shook her head, smiling. “I confess the notion of having a sister never crossed my brain before!” But then she grew sober and said, “I know it isn’t true because I saw your mother with Papa, and I heard what I told earlier, talk of an agreement. I believe they may have mentioned your father’s name…”
Frannie’s heart quickened.
But she finished, “Only I cannot recall it… Harry, perhaps?... I’m sorry, I’m not certain.”
Frannie said, “Your mother regards me as an impostor and a thief! But I assure you—!”
Catherine shook her head. “There is no need! Please, I know how it is.” She looked away and then back, calmly. “My mother’s heart is much set upon the trust. That is why she behaves monstrously to you. I daresay her behaviour may yet grow worse, for if Freddie—Lord Whitby, that is—cries off when he learns I have no funds to bring to the wedding, well, Mama will be in rare form.” She swallowed. Before Frannie could interject a word, she continued, “My father’s return will silence her, for he will explain it all. But in the meantime, she persists in believing it must belong to me.” She hesitated, deliberating. “Papa replied with a mysteriously unhappy letter after he received word of the betrothal. I see now ‘twas because he knew it might not stand when the truth came out—that I have no fortune awaiting me.” She paused, her face scrunched in concentration. “Now I think on it, he wrote that ‘Old Swenson,’ that is Lord Whitby’s father, ‘would sink the ship soon enough.’” She looked up apologetically. “Sink the ship—that’s sailor speak for put an end to it.”
She swallowed and continued. “My betrothal to Lord Whitby was accomplished with the promise of that fortune, and—and—as I did not know of your being in England, I saw no harm in hoping it was true.” Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Of course you didn’t,” Frannie cried. Gently she asked, “Are you in love with him?”
Catherine looked away and licked her lips. “I am fond of him. I daresay I expect to love him once we are wed.” But a little smile formed and she added, “Though I must say, he is a bit of a fribble.” She looked up. “Mama will be furious, for surely he will cry off, now.”
Frannie’s eyes clouded.
Hurriedly Catherine added, “But I assure you, I will come clean to him.”
Frannie held up a hand. “Say nothing to him. Not yet. We do not yet know the particulars of the case. Not until your father’s ship docks, shall we know what’s what.” She spoke eagerly, for it seemed now that the whole sordid mystery would finally be at an end. She leaned forward conspiratorially, leaning with hands upon her skirts. “And if it does turn out in my favour, I promise you, I shall assist you in whatever way I can.”
Catherine sniffed, giving Frannie a wide-eyed look of hope. “I daresay I should never have asked it of you, but you are kind to make the offer.”
Frannie smiled. “You are my only cousin. I could do no less in good conscience.” The girls came to their feet and stood smiling at each other with surprised gladness. “I’m very obliged to you for coming,” Frannie said.
“Oh, but I had to!” cried the other. “As soon as I learned your name, I knew there was nothing I wanted more than to know you!”
“Because you are good and kind,” said Frannie. “I know only too well that you might have refused to know me.” She glanced at the door, hoping Edward wasn’t endeavouring to eavesdrop. “And you might have fought for the trust, especially since your marriage may depend upon it.” She frowned. “Indeed, I do not wish to be responsible for coming between you and your future hope—”