Miss Fanshawe's Fortune - Linore Rose Burkard Page 0,8
stole—again! We’d not have this young woman on our hands if you’d kept your paws off my property. I’m withholding your stipend.”
A hearty argument ensued, and only because they were still on the ground floor did Frannie, in the first floor parlour, not hear a word of it. All of Edward’s arguments fell upon deaf ears, that he’d be forced to take vowels at cards, he’d have the duns at his heels, he’d not be welcome at his favorite coffee house, nor able to obtain a newly bespoken jacket; but finally Sebastian cried, “No more of this!”
“That’s fine for you, you’re all flush in the pocket!”
“We have that unfortunate creature to deal with.”
Edward paused, and then said slyly, “She’s an amiable, attractive unfortunate, you must grant her that.” Sebastian always displayed impeccable manners to the softer sex, and he hoped to play upon his brother’s gallantry.
“That is not to the point,” Sebastian replied without offering a syllable of disagreement. He was aware of Miss Fanshawe’s feminine virtues, but determined, with the usual air of disinterest, to ignore them. “It won’t answer. My suggestion is that you give her £10 and be done with her.”
“I!” cried Edward.
“I shall provide the blunt. You may give it to her, though, with our best wishes for her future happiness.”
Edward’s jaw dropped. “You hen-hearted, cowardly cove! You won’t face ‘er yourself?”
Sebastian’s features hardened. “You took her case the moment she entered the curricle. You must deal with her.”
In a careless tone Edward said, “Well, then, as you’re letting me deal with her as I see fit; haply I’ve already welcomed her as our guest.”
“Which was a grave error and shall be immediately redressed.” In case there was any remaining doubt as to his meaning, he added in a severe tone, “She cannot stay.”
“That’s your judgment, is it? The best you can do for a helpless female in distress?”
Sebastian scowled. “Even you, cork-brained as you are, should know there is nothing more I can do. We are not an alms-house.”
“You can look into her claim. Locate the father. Interview the relation who turned her aside.”
“Which may all but prove impossible and/or pointless and/or both!” he returned hotly.
“But it must be tried,” insisted Edward, “Before we turn her out!”
Sebastian, looking grim, accompanied his brother to the staircase. He didn’t wish to distress Miss Fanshawe further, but he must keep his wits about him. Had she been a young man, or a woman reeking of the street, he would have had no qualms about throwing her out. It wasn’t right, was it, that a pretty face and gentility of manners should influence the case? With compressed lips, he resigned himself to facing the muslin threat that, to his mind, was most unwelcome and must be got rid of.
CHAPTER THREE
Before the brothers had climbed the top step, Mrs. Arundell met them with a delighted smile. She was a lithe figure though in her late forties, and exuded an air of surprising youthfulness.
“I’ve seen her,” she said, with sparkling eyes.
The brothers exchanged a surprised glance. Sebastian quickly interjected, “Good morning to you, too, Mama, and may I assume you’re recovered from the headache?”
“Oh, yes,” she said airily. “Binnie gave me a tonic last night. I woke up with the headache, but now ‘tis completely gone! Binnie is worth a hundred servants.” With hardly a pause, she went on, “I must thank you, Beau, for heeding me for once and finding this girl upon so short notice! I own it is a great relief, for now I may attend the ball this Thursday evening. You know I do not like to go out without a companion, not with my woeful deformity.”
“Dearest, tisn’t a deformity, for the thousandth time!” Sebastian exclaimed.
“Oh, a defect, then. Ever since I took that horrid fall—you know what it did to my hearing.” Her face took on a tragic look as she added, “As if being an ace of spades wasn’t enough!”
“Mama, there is no shame in widowhood! I’ve said it before—”
“Oh, but everyone knows my income isn’t what it was when your father was alive. In any case, I particularly do not want to miss this ball, not with Her Royal Highness attending. Mornay, too, you know, with his pretty new lady.”
But Sebastian’s face was a picture of concern. “Mama, a companion? Miss Fanshawe is—”
“Quite young, yes! I see that. Have no fear, Beau! I think, indeed, she is just the thing, I am sure we will suit. And the younger ones aren’t nearly as particular