was given no great assurance that it would occur. He returned to his wife and daughter and relayed the matter.
“He left just ahead of ye,” said his wife grimly, her eyes upon the arched exit through which Sir Hugo and a fine lady had disappeared. She turned to her husband. “I’ll settle the matter. If he wants more of it from yer own mouth, I warrant he’ll have ye fetched.”
Mr. Fanshawe looked alarmed and made to rise.
“No, sir! Stay out of it!” she cried. “I’ll know what to say to the man. I will ensure the union of our daughter with Lord Whitby.” She stood, straightened her gown and hair and added, “With it bein’ Christmas Eve, I daresay there could be no more propitious time to find a man in a charitable spirit.”
Mr. Fanshawe did not argue, having drunk plenty of ale and was feeling no pain. Moreover, his wife would give him little peace until the feat was accomplished, and she’d make his precious shore life miserable if he were to attempt another audience and fail. He held up his mug for a passing good fellow to fill, gave thanks and cheers all around, he was sure, and took a deep draught.
Mrs. Fanshawe had no trouble at all, amidst the crowd and jollity, to slip from the public room and pass beneath the elaborately arched doorway through which she’d seen the baronet leave, into a narrower connecting corridor. She walked along, marveling at the luxury of the place. At length, she saw a young gentleman approaching.
Edward Arundell, returning to the public area from a water closet not open to the townsfolk, saw a stout matron coming his way. As they neared one another, he thought she wore a challenging look, one that bordered on impudence. His eyes narrowed. “Have you lost your way?” He stopped before her, wondering that no servant had already intercepted her.
“I must see His Lordship,” she said decisively.
Edward’s lip quivered, for the baronet was not, properly, a “lord,” but all he said was, “Is he expecting you?”
“He’ll desire to see me,” she said, with a knowing air that could not but intrigue young Edward.
“Why is that?” he asked.
Her lips pursed and she raised her head importantly. “I have information of a personal nature for him.”
This Edward considered doubtful. “What is your name?”
“Mrs. Fanshawe,” she said, nodding her head.
“Fanshawe?” Edward came sharply to attention.
“Are you a relation of Frannie’s, that is, er, Miss Frances Fanshawe?”
“I know all about her,” she said, with a sagacious and haughty eye.
“Sebastian will wish to see you,” Edward said eagerly.
“Here now, I shall speak only to ‘is Lordship.”
Edward surveyed her. He didn’t know where Sebastian was, but he must not let this woman escape. If she did indeed have knowledge of Frannie’s history, he’d hear no end of it if he let her slip away. Besides which, it might lead to Frannieʼs finally coming into her fortune. “I’ll take you to the baronet,” he said, coming to a decision.
“Much obliged,” she said with satisfaction, bowing her head, but with that same impertinent expression curling her lips.
As he led the way, Edward remembered that Frannie was going by name of Miss Baxter, and how befuddling it would all seem to his cousin, who surely knew nothing of a Miss Fanshawe. But he’d just seen Sir Hugo and his mama consulting with servants outside the baronetʼs study. He’d let them sort it out, and find Sebastian afterward.
A turn in the corridor brought them into sight of Sir Hugo and Mrs. Arundell, still speaking with the butler and housekeeper. Mrs. Arundell was giving last-minute instructions regarding the coming ball that evening, and, being a guest, had secured Sir Hugo’s presence to impress the servants that her word must be followed. She looked up, saw Edward and a woman, and turned to the servants. “That will be all. Come to me if there are any further questions.” Turning to Edward, she said, “Yes?” with an expectant air, not looking at Mrs. Fanshawe.
“Mama, Cousin, I have a Mrs. Fanshawe here,” he said with peculiar emphasis and looking chiefly to his mother. Mrs. Arundell’s eyes widened. “Fanshawe?”
“F-Fanshawe!” repeated the baronet, turning with sudden interest to the lady.
“Ay, and I needs must speak to ‘ye, Yer Lordship, privately, if you would, about Miss Fanshawe.”
“To the baronet about Frannie?” asked Mrs. Arundell, putting a hand to her heart.
“Do you mean, Miss Baxter?” Sir Hugo asked.
Mrs. Arundell said, “Oh, dear,” and put two fingers to her lips.
But the baronet’s