The Spinster & The Coquette (7 page)

Frank pointed at the book of poetry beside Hester. “May I see that?” Hester passed it to him without a word, and as he reached for the book, Nomad leapt from his lap with a snort. As Frank thumbed through the pages, he was shaking his head at everything he read.

“You don’t approve of Keats?” Hester asked.

“No… on the contrary, his words are very inspiring, and he makes me feel inefficient.” After skimming through several pages, Frank had seen enough. He set the book aside and turned his attention back to Hester. “My words seem very trite by comparison.”

“Do you write?”

“I do… on occasion. Mostly poetry, although not in the same style as Keats. My poetry is very… commonplace.”

“I am sure it is better than you think.”

“I appreciate you trying to encourage me, Hester, but I can see I am an amateur.” Frank looked away and confessed, “I… I wrote a poem for your sister.”

“Did you? I should like to read it!” Hester exclaimed. “I am sure Cordelia would as well.”

“No. I’ll never share it with anyone… least of all, Cordelia herself.” Frank winced at the idea of it. “I feel like a fool for writing it. I feel like a fool for imagining myself with her at all. Cordelia would never care for me as I cared for her.”

“Frank…” Hester did not know how to reassure him, or whether she should even try to do so. Anything she said would surely sound patronizing. Cordelia falling for him seemed very unlikely.

“I suppose… if I truly
was
a fool, I would continue to harbor false hopes. But I have no unreasonable expectations. I am not so ignorant of the ways of the world.”

“The world can be… cruel.” Hester’s words were offered with a shrug. “But you are still very young. I am sure you will have many opportunities.”

“Will I? You are kind to say that, Hester, but I doubt it. No one wants an invalid hero…” Frank’s eyes dropped to his walking sticks, and his lips quivered slightly. “And no woman would ever dream of me.”

Hester was so focused on Mr. Hargrave, she nearly missed her sister’s news. Ever since they entered the assembly room, Cecil had approached every woman except for her—and most of them were even younger than Hester. She hadn’t taken him for a cad, but he was effectively proving her wrong. Apparently, Mr. Hargrave
was
the type of man to flirt with several women at once, and all of them were young enough to be his daughters. It was disappointing, to say the least, that her only promising beau had proven to be just as despicable as every other man. When she saw him whispering in the ear of a simpering twenty-year-old, Hester decided he was no longer worthy of her time. If that was the sort of woman he wanted, why did he ever feign interest in her?

“Mr. Snowley asked me to marry him.”

Hester was so focused on Cecil Hargrave, it took her a moment to absorb her sister’s words. Her response, though delayed, was no less shocked than Cordelia expected. “
Pardon
? Did I hear you correctly? Mr. Snowley
proposed
to you?”

“He did!” Cordelia squeaked excitedly. She hoisted her fan, hiding her blushing cheeks behind the silken ornament.

“That was… rather fast. Did you refuse him?”

“Of course I did not refuse him! I told him I would consider it. Hmm… Cordelia Snowley…” Her eyes swelled as she uttered the name. “That sounds very agreeable.”

“You have known him for a week, Cordelia. Is that really enough time to decide you want to spend the rest of your life with someone?”

“Actually, I have known him for ten days,” Cordelia asserted, as if a mere few days made a world of difference. “And I do like him. Very much! Would I be mad to accept his offer of marriage? He is so beautiful and charming and I cannot think of anyone I like more than him!”

“Lord Cavendish?” Hester reminded her of the London beau for which she had, not long ago, professed her undying affection.

“Ever since I met Mr. Snowley, I have not given him a thought!”

“Frank?”

“Frank…” Cordelia sounded a bit despondent as she uttered his name. “Do you think he’s formed an attachment to me? It would be such a shame to let him down… although I never seriously considered him as a prospect. Is it very cruel of me to say that?”

“You were wrong to give him hope,” Hester chided her. “You kissed him.”

“And… what does that mean? A kiss is hardly an offer of marriage, Hes. While Frank is very kind, I did not intend for him to like me quite so much.

“Whether it was your intention or not, you accomplished it… and you
will
break the young man’s heart.” With a sigh, Hester glanced in the direction of Mr. Hargrave. He was surrounded by three women, all of them younger and prettier than her.
She
did not intend to like
him
quite so much. Was she a fool for thinking his interest was genuine? In that regard, she had much in common with Frank. They had both foolishly invested their feelings in someone who would never appreciate them.

“Hearts are broken all the time. I cannot be held accountable for his pain.” Cordelia answered coldly. “Why must you make me feel so awful, Hes? When I came to tell you my news, I was happy. Nay, I was
elated
. Now I feel horribly sad!”

“I want you to be happy, of course. But I also want you to listen to reason, and to be aware of the consequences should you—”

Cordelia walked away before Hester could finish her thought. She knew it was useless to try to talk sense to her sister. Regardless of what Hester said, Cordelia would likely be engaged to Alexander Snowley by the week’s end.

Hester spent the rest of the night in solitude, which was hardly unusual. She lingered in a forgotten corner of the room, quietly watching Mr. Hargrave and his many female admirers. He even danced with a few of them, and never so much as glanced in Hester’s direction. He was well and truly finished with her—and she was finished with him.

When they returned to Hyacinth’s cottage, Cordelia was no longer speaking to her, and her tired aunt did not seem like good company. As Hester passed by Frank’s room, she lingered by the door, poised to knock. Hester needed to talk to someone, and Frank was always an amiable companion. Surely she was too old to worry about the impropriety of it?

As soon as she knocked, Hester was tempted to turn and flee. Visiting a young man in the middle of the night was entirely out of character for her, even if the young man was practically family. With his hair looking even more disheveled than usual, Frank appeared at the door. He looked very unprepared for a visitor, and Hester felt a bit guilty for rousing him.

“I did not wake you, did I?” She winced as she asked the question.

“Not at all. I was reading.” Frank stepped away from the door and limped back to his bed. “Forgive me, but I must sit. I have an ache in my back.”

“You need not apologize.” Hester closed the door behind her and tiptoed into the room, a bit reluctantly. “Do you always read at night?”

“Too often, yes. As I said before, I waste many candles.” He pointed at the candle on his nightstand, which was nearly depleted. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I… I suppose… I…” Her tongue nervously swept across her lower lip. “I suppose I was in need of a friend.”

“I thought you would prefer the company of Cordelia.”

“Cordelia… is cross with me,” Hester confessed. “Mr. Snowley asked her to marry him, and I mistakenly tried to be the voice of reason.”

“Ah.” Frank accepted the news with an apathetic nod, as if it was expected. “I see.”

“She has not accepted his proposal,” Hester added, “but she is considering it.”

“Do you think she will consent to be his wife?”

“I honestly cannot predict the outcome. She seems quite smitten with him… and yet, Cordelia has always been a bit fickle. It is very possible she will lose interest in him, now that his heart is officially won.”

“So she enjoys the conquest more than the prize?”

“That is… a depressingly accurate way to put it.” Against her better judgment, Hester sat beside Frank on the bed. Such brazen behavior might have been expected from Cordelia, but certainly not from her. “I understand how you must feel, as I am no stranger to disappointment tonight. I was ignored by Mr. Hargrave. It was almost as if he went out of his way to avoid me.”

“I am sure you imagined it.”

“No… sadly, I am not imagining anything, nor am I exaggerating. He shunned me quite thoroughly!” Hester sounded strangely cheerful about it, as if relating to Frank’s lovelorn misery gave her pleasure. “His interest in me was extinguished so quickly, one might think I had said something to offend him. Unfortunately, I think my only offense is that I was very forgettable.”

“Forget about him. If he cannot appreciate a good woman like you, he does not deserve your attention.”

Hester tugged at the fraying edge of her gown. All of her clothes were old and unfashionable, but her father spared no expense when it came to the younger sister. Cordelia’s wardrobe was always expanding. Muslin gowns, fashionable garments and lacy bonnets were her constant gifts. And yet, Hester was never jealous of her sister—until tonight. She wished Mr. Hargrave had attached himself to her as easily as Mr. Snowley attached himself to Cordelia. Why were some women blessed with bountiful luck and beauty, while others had none?

As she shared her thoughts, Hester sighed. “Perhaps some ladies are never meant to be loved.”

Frank started to reach for Hester’s hand, but he quickly pulled away. “I am sure that isn’t true.”

“It is kind of you to disagree, but I am well aware of the truth.” She thought she felt tears forming in her eyes, so she looked away from him. “I will never find love, but I have accepted it.”

“And love shall always elude me,” Frank added. “You need only to watch me hobble across the floor like a fool to know that is painstakingly obvious. My damnable infirmity…”

Though Hester shook her head, she did not think it was appropriate to correct him so soon after Cordelia broke the young man’s heart. She did not want to sound patronizing or disingenuous. “I have given up on Mr. Hargrave,” she announced. “From this moment onward, I shall never spare him another thought!”

“I’m glad to hear it.” As a smile flickered across his lips, he said, “I mean no offense to your sister, but I have given up on her as well.”
“We are quite the pair, are we not?” Hester threw back her head and chuckled, and when she did, Frank was momentarily transfixed by her neck. Long, pale and ivory, he thought it was a strangely beautiful sight. Hester was handsome, willowy, and timidly charming, and those qualities had always appealed to him. For the first time, he wondered if he had set his cap on the wrong sister. It was a shocking, unexpected thought.

“Have you really never been kissed?” Frank’s question thoughtlessly flew from his mouth. Perhaps he should have taken more time to consider the impropriety of it.

“Oh…” Hester dragged her long fingers along her forehead in despair. “It was Cordelia who put that thought in your head.”

“Indeed… and perhaps I should not have mentioned it.”

“No, it is quite alright. I cannot blame you for your curiosity. Unlike Cordelia, at least you are sincere.” Hester drew a deep breath before answering his query. “There was a young man when I was fifteen. It was the tiniest kiss… and it happened ages ago. I can hardly remember back that far. I was a child then. The tender age of fifteen was not so long ago for you, but for me, it is half a lifetime!”

For reasons he did not quite understand, Frank’s heart sank when she mentioned their ages, and the sizable gap between them. “You should have many suitors, Hester,” he suddenly said. “I can’t imagine why you don’t. You’re every bit as pretty as Cordelia.”

“That’s doing it a bit too brown, don’t you think?” Hester asked with a chuckle. “You
are
very kind, Frank, that much is undeniable. I don’t think anyone has ever said something so ludicrous, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“It is
not
ludicrous.” It was a bit unexpected, but Frank found that he could not stop staring at her. Hester was a very striking woman, with the palest gray eyes, and lips as pink and plump as berries. She had a freckle between her neck and collarbone, and he was tempted to touch it. Not even Cordelia held him quite as spellbound. “I think you are lovely.”

“Well… I… you…” Hester was temporarily tongue-tied. She was unaccustomed to receiving compliments of any sort, especially ones that sounded so sincere. When she finally recovered her wits, she repeated, “You are very kind.”

“I… admire you. I’ve always admired you.” Frank reached for her, and boldly rested his hand on top of hers. “Very much.”

As Hester stared at his hand, she felt the strangest sensation. Blood rushed into her head, her heart raced, and she momentarily struggled to catch a breath. Why would such a simple touch make her so unsettled? “I… admire you as well.” When she felt his fingers caressing hers, she wanted to pull her hand away. She
should
have pulled her hand away. But she enjoyed the sensation so much, it was impossible to deny herself the pleasure of it.

“I care for you,” Frank continued. “Very much.”

“As a sister, surely.” Hester’s words were accompanied by a nervous chuckle. “And a much older sister, at that.”

“Not as a sister,” he corrected her. “And more than that.”

As Hester slid her hand out from under his, she immediately lamented the loss of his touch—and yet it was necessary to put distance between them. As her pulse thumped wildly in her neck, she rose from the bed and quickly retreated to the door. The moment was painfully awkward and perplexing, and she needed to be alone. “Good night, Frank. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Hester. I hope to see you tomorrow… well rested, and in considerably better spirits.”

Without another word, Hester exited and headed to the room she shared with Cordelia. As she traveled down the hall, she closed her eyes and tried to hold the image of Frank’s face in her mind as long as she could. In particular, her mind’s eye lingered on his lips.

At what point did she start wondering what it would be like to kiss him? When did her foolish heart decide it was acceptable to have so much affection for him?