Miss Fanshawe's Fortune - Linore Rose Burkard Page 0,7

urge to give way to tears. It was too, too, vexing! She didn’t use to cry easily; it must be because of Mrs. Baxter’s sudden death, and then, on its heels, the discovery that the inheritance she claimed to be leaving Frannie—enough to last until her trust could be obtained—was sadly dried up, according to the barrister who settled her affairs. It had all gone to long-standing debts that Frannie had known nothing about, the same debts that had swallowed up Frannie’s funds. And now even their home had been taken from her on account of the arrears! She’d end up in the poor house, no doubt! How glad she was now that neither her mama nor Mrs. Baxter had lived to see this day. Mrs. Baxter’s barrister had refused to take on Frannie’s case, to try and locate her trust monies. She should have known then that it was hopeless.

Haltingly, she tried to explain this to Sebastian. Bits and pieces leaked out until he knew as much as she did regarding the trust. By the time she had done, he was certain he was dealing with an illegitimate pauper, but not a deceptive trickster. She was as genteel and well-spoken as any lady of his acquaintance, and still had not requested a shilling. The trust fund, sadly, was no doubt an invention of her mother’s, a flight of fancy.

She went on to relate the details of how her reticule—her last remaining funds in it—had been napped the day before as she was jostled by a crowd on the street after she left the Fanshawes’ house, reeling from the injustice of being turned away.

As he listened to Frannie, Sebastian found himself wishing her case was not so bedeviled. It was with something surprisingly close to regret that he had to accept his first deductions as true. Miss Fanshawe was a well-dressed, well-bred, blow-by orphan without a half-pence to her name. As such, she was the lowest of the low on the scale of gentility. He’d kept his countenance carefully neutral as he heard the sorry tale. But he took a breath now and asked, “Have you no other relations?”

“None I know of, sir,” she said, hardly above a whisper, and with a sinking in her breast. Why should he espouse her cause? Why would anyone? “I have one friend, Mrs. Baxter’s brother. But he is not a man of means. I did not wish to be a burden to him.” In another second she hurriedly added, “Nor do I wish to burden you with my case, sir! Only I am come to such a pass—I know not what to do!”

Sebastian nodded, unsurprised. Only desperation would bring such a creature to this scene. “I understand you, Miss Fanshawe.”

Edward had remained conspicuously silent until now, but at these words gave his brother a look of vast relief. “Well done, sir! I knew how it would be,” he added, looking at Frannie. “When my brother isn’t up to his nose in business or one of his books, he can be a vastly reasonable fellow.”

Sebastian returned this dubious praise with a dour look. “Escort our guest to the parlour while I think upon what we can do for her.”

Frannie’s expressive eyes filled with hope. “Oh, Mr. Arundell! Sir! I hardly know how to thank you,” she said in her earnest voice, coming to her feet.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sebastian replied honestly. “I am in truth not at all certain that I can in any way relieve your distress.” As Edward led the young woman out of the room, he turned back to give Sebastian a disapproving glare. He ought to have sounded more hopeful, Edward thought. At the very least he was sure his brother would never consign this lovely creature to the street! There must be something they could do for her.

The thought plagued him so much that he left Miss Fanshawe seated in the parlour by herself, begging to be excused, and with the assurance that he should return in a minute. He met Sebastian just leaving the morning room.

“You’re a Job’s comforter, an’t you?” he cried, at sight of him. “You could have said something more kindly to her!”

“And you could have done me the honour of not bringing a penniless orphan to my door!”

Edward grimaced. “She’s an heiress.”

“If she’s an heiress, I’m the Prince Regent,” he returned smoothly. “You never did tell me how you know her.”

Edward sighed. “I nearly ran ‘er down.”

Sebastian’s eyes flared. “With my curricle, which you