Miss Fanshawe's Fortune: Clean and Sweet Regency Romance (The Brides of Mayfair Book 2)

by Linore Rose Burkard

  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 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 as older dames, you know, who don’t want to interpret conversations for me,
because they cannot remember them! Which is the precise reason I need their service!”

  Sebastian and Edward exchanged another glance, while she continued, “I was only just ready to decline the invitation—for this is not a public ball, as you know—so imagine my delight when I poked my head into the parlour to remind you, in case you were in that room because I didn’t find you in the library or study, to find me a new companion. And there she was! A very genteel looking girl,” she said, nodding with satisfaction.

  “Did you approach her, Mama?”

  “No. She didn’t see me.” Her features fell into a look of concern. “I’m sure she’ll come around when she grows accustomed to it—being a companion, you know.”

  “Come around?” asked Sebastian, giving Edward a cautious look.

  “Well, she looked rather blue-devilled. I believe she must be under some financial duress that forces her to take a situation? It is lowering, to be sure, but I’ve no doubt that once she is comfortable here, she will come around. I’m not such a drab that I’ll keep her under lock and key! We’ll go about town just as I used to. Perhaps, if she is truly as genteel as her appearance, and if she comes from good family, I may even introduce her as an acquaintance. Perhaps I can offer a lower wage if I promise this advantage!” Mama was always seeking ways to economize—at Sebastian’s urging—though she wasn’t usually successful in her attempts.

  But at the words, “If she comes from good family,” Sebastian made a sound in his throat. She had waved him to silence with a hand, but now he said, “Dearest,” turning her so that they could complete their ascension of the stairs. “That is Miss Fanshawe in the parlour. And she is not at all suitable to your purpose.”

  Mrs. Arundell’s face fell. “But whyever not? She is the picture of gentility, and I always like a pretty face. I’m too old to have pretensions for my own appearance—”

  “Nonsense!” cried Sebastian.

  “Not a whit!” echoed Edward. “Why all the swells say of you—”

  “Pray, spare us from what all the swells say!” Sebastian interjected hotly. “‘Tis perfectly plain that you, Mama, are still a handsome woman, and let that be the end of it.” All this while, the brothers spoke in extra loud tones.

  She smiled. “Thank you, my dears. In any case, I do prefer a pleasant face, and I daresay when Miss Fanshawe has got used to her new situation, she will be quite the pleasantest face in this establishment.”

  “Mama—” began Sebastian, but Edward took his arm.

  “She is the perfect candidate to be your companion,” finished Edward, giving his brother a look as though he were a scatter brain. “Hush!” he cried, beneath his breath.

  “This won’t answer!” returned Sebastian, in an equally low tone.

  “Boys, boys, you must speak louder! You know my deformity!”

  “Defect, mama!” pleaded Edward.

  “Affliction,” said Sebastian. “For goodness’ sake, just call it an affliction,” he begged.

  “Call it what you like, I loathe it,” she replied. “I am quite deaf and you must speak louder.”

  Nevertheless the brothers continued their conversation in hushed tones. “Don’t you see?” hissed Edward. “This answers perfectly! She can stay as Mama’s companion, no impropriety, no questions asked, while you look into her claims. If she is an heiress, you’ll save her fortune, and in the meantime, Mama will have her social life back.”

  “I do not like it.”

  “Don’t be a loggerhead!”

  “Don’t be a bottle-headed gudgeon!” Sebastian replied, in a heated whisper.

  “Oh, I see how ‘tis,” said their mama. “You don’t wish me to hear. Well, take me into your Miss Fanshawe and let us have our introduction. I shall see what her terms are.”

  “Mama,” said Edward. “Don’t trouble your head. Sebastian will take care of all that.”

  “Will I?” Sebastian intoned. “Am I the housekeeper now?”

  Mrs. Spencer was of course the usual personage to interview and secure new help, but Edward merely shrugged. “You’ve always been the tactful one in the family. Miss Fanshawe didn’t come on a recommendation or with papers. You’ll have to secure her; and we’ll inform Spence that she needn’t take the trouble of any further interviews.” Edward’s ears had been boxed as a youngster for dubbing the nickname on their housekeeper, but over time it had stuck. He fancied the stout woman employed for two decades as their housekeeper had even grown to enjoy the designation.

  All this time Mrs. Arundell had been watching them with perplexity, for her skill at lip reading left much to be desired, and all efforts at it failed her now. “What are you boys disagreeing on?” she asked.

  “Nothing of import, Mama,” Edward said. “Go and have an early nuncheon, and we’ll see to getting your new companion settled.” After kissing her hand and bowing her off, they approached the parlour. Sebastian had one more objection. “If Miss Fanshawe is very genteel, she will shrink from hiring herself out.”

  Edward said, “When her alternative is poverty and the street? I think not!”

  Sebastian ground out between tight lips, “You had ought to have brought her to a clergyman!”

  “To send her to the poorhouse? I didn’t even think of it, if you must know. I heard of her fortune and thought my elder brother, an intelligent and enterprising man—for even I can acknowledge you are considered as decent a buck as anyone—would do the pretties by her. Take care of the tangle.”

  “That’s what solicitors and barristers are for,” Sebastian replied.

  But Edward turned to look behind him at his brother and said, “She can little afford either! And you are more than capable of untangling this hobble, I’ve no doubt.”

  Sebastian eyed him with his usual dispassion. “She will refuse. No properly bred young woman will accept a servant’s situation.”

  “A companion ain’t like a servant!” hissed Edward. “All the old cathedrals these days have companions, they don’t attend a ball or rout without ‘em, and they’re as respectable as you please.”

  “Are you referring to our mother as an old cathedral? She’d swoon if she heard!”

  “O’ course not,” cried Edward. “I only meant that a companion is just the thing, these days. Miss Fanshawe won’t be insulted.”

  “I suspect she will,” said Sebastian. “And then I’ll send her packing.”

  It took only a few minutes for the gentlemen to ascertain that Miss Fanshawe was more than equal to serving as a companion for Mrs. Arundell. It had never occurred to Frannie that she might be of some service to the household, but the thought filled her with relief and gratitude. She wasn’t merely a pauper relying on their charity; now she would be of use to them. At the first mention of the situation, she closed her eyes and exclaimed, “Oh, thank God! I can be useful to you!” She looked up with eyes alight. “My prayer was, if you would be a blessing to me in my distress, that I would also bless this family in turn!”

  Sebastian seemed at a loss by this reaction, for he hadn’t expected anything of the sort. He explained her duties, expecting objections to erupt, but she remained calm, eager to please, nodding sagely. Chief among her responsibilities, she was assured, was to listen to conversations and help their mama understand the gist so that she might participate, answer questions correctly, and hopefully without appearing as deaf as she was. They explained the terrible fall on the stairs six months prior which had resulted in utter unconsciousness and such injury that they feared the worst. Mrs. Arundell had finally come awake and seemed no worse for the episode, save that her hearing suffered lasting harm.

  Frannie felt uncommonly suited for the role of companion. Indeed, it filled her heart with oddly familiar warmth, for Mrs. Baxter had been much older than she, and their relationship was almost the same. For most of her life, Mrs. Baxter had been the superior and Frannie, younger, the inferior. Both understood that upon her majority Frannie would assume the superior rank on account of her wealth, but as sh
e was not in possession of that wealth at present, it seemed entirely fitting that she ought to be in subservience to Mrs. Arundell.

  By the end of the interview, Sebastian felt almost satisfied with the day’s events. Miss Fanshawe’s presence, which at first seemed a vexation, did indeed answer the purpose for Mama, and saved the household the trouble of finding a better applicant. Whether or not he would exert himself to study her affairs was another matter. He’d never let a pretty face sway his better judgment. Indeed, he might have succumbed to the charms of countless ineligible young women and found himself ill-married but for a determination never to allow a female to turn his head for frivolous reasons. When he needed a wife, he would of course approach the softer sex in that light, searching for a possible future mate. But he wasn’t looking for just a pretty face. If and when he became the next baronet of Bartlett Hall, he would want a sensible, intelligent woman by his side. Until then, he wouldn’t think of displacing his mother as mistress of their home. There was no need for it. It was not to be thought of.

  But Edward was a concern. Miss Fanshawe, with her ridiculously large, chocolate eyes, was just the sort of female his younger brother would be smitten by. That she was utterly without consequence would mean nothing to the pup. Had she known the name of her supposed noble father, it might have helped her case. But without his identity, the idea of a trust could only appear as a desperate hope, a wish, a longing, a prayer. She’d referred to her parents “tragic marriage,” but he doubted there had been a marriage. Miss Fanshawe might be an orphan or her natural father might be alive; but either way, she was a blow-by. Exactly the sort of woman no Arundell could possibly align themselves with. He’d have to keep a weather eye upon Edward, to be sure.