Captain Ingram's Inheritance by Carola Dunn

fishes.
     “Merry as a grig,” said the captain. “With the unsettled life she’s led, it’s fortunate that she has a knack of making friends.”
     “She is an enchanting child,” Constantia said, “but it is to your credit, and Miss Ingram’s, that she is so confident in a novel situation.”
     “The credit is all Fanny’s. She took charge when Anita’s mother died and she wouldn’t give her up for the world. It’s not made a hard life any easier, but you’d never hear her complain.”
     His pride in his sister was endearing, and justified, as Constantia realized when he described the difficulties of life in the army’s train. He said not a word of the hardship to a young, poorly-paid officer in supporting a sister and a child not his own. Instead, he was full of praise for the way first his mother, then Fanny, had made the most dilapidated quarters homelike for their menfolk.
     Thomas came in to remove the tea-table, and later returned to announce that luncheon was served.
     “Heavens, is it so late?” Constantia exclaimed. “I shall have to put in an appearance, Captain Ingram, since we have guests. You must order whatever you wish to be brought to you here. I shall come straight back to...Oh, bother, it looks like rain. You will have to exercise indoors today.”
     Calling Joan to go with her, she started towards the door, then stopped as Fanny entered, pale and agitated, still in her riding habit. Constantia guessed she was in a quake at the prospect of meeting the earl and countess again at luncheon. Where was Felix when his beloved needed his support?
     “Shall I wait for you while you change your dress, Miss Ingram?” she offered. “Or would you prefer to take luncheon in here with your brother?”
     “Oh no!” She sounded distraught. “Thank you, I am not hungry. Pray excuse me, I must speak with Frank.”
     “Of course.” Constantia laid her hand on Fanny’s arm. “If there is anything I can do....”
     Fanny’s mouth quivered and she shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Had she quarrelled with Felix? Helpless, Constantia signalled to the footman to leave, and she and her maid followed him.
     Frank stared at his sister in dismay. “Fanny, what is it?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.
     With a visible effort, she regained her composure and gave him a smile, slightly wobbly, as she came to sit on the end of his sofa.
     “You’re not going to believe this. I can scarcely believe it myself. Did I ever tell you about the man who was asking questions about us, in Brussels, months ago?”
     “No.” He waited patiently for her to tell him in her own way, rather than risk throwing her into high fidgets again. He could not recall ever having seen her so overwrought.
     “He wanted to know things like our dates of birth, and Mama’s maiden name. It seems F-Felix has seen him several times since, and now he has caught up with us. Frank, you didn’t know that Mama’s father was a duke, did you?”
     He gaped at her. “A duke? No, she’d never talk about her family, to me any more than to you. Our grandfather a duke? The devil!”
     “The late Duke of Oxshott. His lawyer sent the man, Taggle, to look for us. Are you feeling strong?” She reached out and took his hand. “It seems the duke was at outs with all his relations, especially his heir, the present duke, but having banished Mama thirty years ago, he couldn’t come to cuffs again with her. He left all his unentailed property to her, and so to us.”
     “And that’s what this fellow wanted to tell us?” Frank laughed. “Roworth has been protecting us against him all this time?”
     “If only we had known, you could have sold out before Quatre Bras.”
     Did that explain her distress? “Come now,” he said, “you know better than that. I’d never have sold out just before the battle. Do you mean we’ll inherit enough to live on?”
     “We’re going to be rich.”
     She spoke in