The Spinster & The Coquette (8 page)

“Madness…” Hester quietly chided herself. “Utter madness.”

It was an overwhelming revelation. Hester never imagined she would have feelings for
him,
of all people—how could she allow it to happen? She should have loved him like a brother, if anything. Her attachment to Frank was absolutely illogical in every possible way. He was more of a boy than a man, and she had no business feeling that sort of affection for him. And yet, ever since she woke, she ached for his company.

Hester tried very hard to make excuses for herself. Frank had been kinder to her than any man ever had—how could she not feel affection for him? And even if he was young, he seemed very mature for his age, and had likely endured more hardship than she could possibly imagine. But did his maturity make her feelings any less absurd?

“Perhaps…” Hester stared into the looking glass, whispering to her reflection. “Perhaps I do not care for him as much as I believe I do? Perhaps I… perhaps I was desperate to feel something for someone after the disappointment I suffered with Mr. Hargrave?”

It was senseless to deny how she felt. Ever since Frank’s hand held hers, he had invaded her every thought.

She thought she heard Frank thumping down the hall with his walking sticks, and for a moment, Hester forgot to breathe. His footsteps halted in front of her door, as if he considered knocking, before he finally moved on. It was noon, and she had been anticipating crossing paths with him since she woke. Determined not to let him escape, Hester ran to the door and flung it open.

“Frank!” She was so eager to see him, her voice squeaked when she shouted his name.

“Good afternoon, Hester,” Frank greeted her as calmly and cordially as he could. He had to pretend he wasn’t hovering outside her door, dying to knock, desperate to see her again. “You look lovely. The curls framing your cheeks are very fetching.”

Hester had taken a bit more time to style her hair, but she doubted he would care. She traded her usual bun in favor of some cherubic curls, and she had dabbed a bit of lavender perfume on her neck. There was a hint of rouge on her lips, which gave her mouth a rosy glow. She hoped the extra effort she put into her appearance was subtle enough to escape his notice. “I am sure I do not deserve such compliments, but I appreciate them nonetheless.”

“I… I… you…” Frank gave his neck a scratch as he fumbled over his words. Hester was relieved to see he looked just as nervous as she did. “I… well… I was wondering if you would care to join me in the garden?”

“Oh, I would love to!” Hester exclaimed, and a moment later, she felt a bit sheepish for her enthusiasm. “That is to say, I… I really have nothing else planned. Should I read to you again? We can resume the story of
Emma
.”

“I absolutely would love that,” Frank answered with equal enthusiasm. “I love to listen to the sound of your voice.”

Frank’s words had both of them blushing. “Should I invite Cordelia?”

“
No
!” Frank was adamant. He wondered if it was a bit too obvious that he wanted some time alone with Hester. “I… I mean to say… I enjoy your sister’s company, but I would rather not bother her with books. She tends to bore easily.”

“Indeed she does.”

After Hester retrieved her book, they headed to the garden in silence. They moved slowly, as walking was a bit laborious for him. Frank had always envied able-bodied men and their confidant swaggers. Ungainly as he was, he knew he had no hope of impressing Hester.

As they walked between rows of daffodils, Frank considered plucking one of the flowers and presenting it to her as a gift. But he feared it would look too obvious, so he decided to let the flowers stay where they were.

“There is a pleasant breeze,” Hester observed. “The weather is very fine today.”

“And no rain. We are lucky.”

“Oh dear… I should not resort to inane conversations about the weather. I believe that is what frightened Mr. Hargrave away. I bored him to tears.”

“You could never frighten me away,” Frank assured her. “I love to listen to you talk. About anything.”

“Honestly, Frank, you are an angel among men.” Hester stopped at a bench and opened the book in her lap. Frank hobbled slightly as he lowered himself to the seat beside her, then he set his walking sticks on the ground near his feet. She read aloud, “
The hair was curled, and the maid sent away, and Emma sat down to think and be miserable
…”

Frank closed his eyes as he listened to her read. Hester’s voice was so soft and deep, she made his entire head tingle as she read. The sound of it was so soothing, he knew he could happily listen to her for the rest of his life.

After she finished a chapter, Hester turned to him and studied his profile. His eyes were closed, so he did not see her watching him. Frank had beautiful lips, the squarest jaw, a chiseled nose, and even his messy brown hair was adorably appealing. She was tempted to touch his long, dark eyelashes—to run her fingertips along his beige skin. He was more handsome at that moment than he had ever been.

But surely she had no business thinking of him in such a way?

When his eyes opened, Frank smiled at her. “You stopped reading?”

“I was… pondering something,” Hester said. “I should be reading
Sense and Sensibility
, not
Emma
, seeing as my good sense has recently abandoned me.”

“Oh?” One of Frank’s perfect dark eyebrows was raised. “But you seem very sensible to me.”

“If you could hear the thoughts in my head, you would not think I was quite so sensible. In fact, sometimes I believe I am entirely without sense.”

“You should share your thoughts,” he encouraged her. “I would love to hear what you are thinking.”

“I most certainly
cannot
share my thoughts!” Hester cackled at the idea of it.
I believe I might be a bit infatuated with you.
She did not think it was a wise thought to share with the young man who should have been like a brother to her.

Frank, however, was a bit more bold. “I would be willing to share a thought with you.” Though his words were brave, he could not look her in the eyes as he uttered them. Instead, he turned his gaze to his fidgeting hands. “I think you’re very pretty, Hester… you are your sister’s equal in every way. In some ways, you are even prettier than she is. She lacks your warmth and goodness. Not only are you a very handsome woman… you are also very kind, and that kindness makes you even more beautiful.”

“You are very kind as well.” Hester’s head instinctively sank to his shoulder; she desperately wanted to be closer to him. “And… handsome.”

“Handsome?” When he smiled down at her, matching dimples appeared on his cheeks. “Surely not!”

“You
are
handsome,” she insisted. “And you are even more adorable than a basket filled with kittens!”

Frank chuckled at the comparison. “
An entire basket
? Fie, that cannot be possible! One kitten, possibly, but a basket of them is utterly unbelievable!”

“But it’s true! You are more adorable than an entire basket of kittens…
and
a bunny.”

“A bunny too? Now you’ve gone a bit too far!” Frank laughed. “No one can be as adorable as that.”

“
You
are as adorable as that,” Hester insisted. “And I am very lucky to have you in my life.”

When she felt his fingers sifting through her hair, Hester feared she might swoon. She had never felt a more pleasurable sensation in all her life.

As he tugged on a lock of her hair, Frank suddenly said, “I would like very much to kiss you.”

“
Kiss me
?” When Hester lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes were wide with shock. “Kiss me… where?”

The thought of asking for a kiss was terrifying to Frank, but his smile was full of bravado. “This bench should be suitable enough, assuming there is no one spying on us from the window. If you’d prefer, we could hide behind that tree. It should provide adequate cover against prying eyes.”

“I meant…
where
would you like to kiss me? One might assume you meant my lips, but I suppose you could also kiss my hand… o-or my cheek?”

Frank’s tremulous chuckle betrayed his nerves. “I knew what you meant. My reply was an attempt at humor… a rather poor attempt, it would seem.”

“Ah. I see. Perhaps I am just slow-witted.”

“You are nothing of the sort. The problem lies with my lack of wit,” Frank insisted. “As for the true answer to your question… you must know I wanted to kiss your lips, you silly goose. However, if you’d like, I would kiss you on the bench, behind the tree, in the kitchen, in a carriage. I would kiss you whenever and wherever you would like, because I am quite certain I could never kiss you enough.”

“I…
ohh
.” Hester’s words died in her throat when his hand gently caressed her cheek. Then he cupped her neck, gently drawing her toward him. When his mouth brushed hers, Hester felt her lips tingle. Frank’s lips were light and soft, and though the kiss was brief, her heart was racing out of control.

“And now…” Frank used his walking sticks to hoist himself from the bench. “Let us continue our adventure in kissing behind the tree. Shall we?”

“Indeed.” Hester played along. She rose from the bench and joined him behind a bulky oak. Before she could utter another word, Frank crushed his lips against hers. Their second kiss was deeper than the first, and he wove his fingers through her hair as his mouth devoured hers. This time, Hester’s entire body was overcome with tingles, from the top of her scalp to the tips of her toes. When Frank’s lips departed, and Hester opened her eyes, she saw his boyish face and was momentarily reminded of her madness. How could she allow herself to fall for him?
And then he kissed her a third time, and the madness was forgotten. How could she deny herself the pleasure of his lips? How could his advances be anything but wonderful when his kisses filled her with so much joy?

“Now…” Frank lifted one of the curls that framed her face and twirled it between his fingers. “I believe our next destination was the kitchen?”

“You really want to kiss me in the
kitchen
?” Hester’s hands flew to her hips. “Someone might see us!”

“And if they do?”

“Maisie might be in there!”

“I am sure the sight of us kissing would not be too traumatizing for her.”

Frank set off in the direction of the cottage, and Hester followed, albeit with some reluctance. To her relief, there was no one in the kitchen. Frank stood in front of her, his eyes burning into hers. A moment later, his lips were on hers again. Frank was tall, so Hester rose to the tips of her tingling toes to facilitate the kiss. His thumb gently traced her collarbone, which made her heart thunderous. This kiss, deeper than the rest, left her breathless and dizzy. When his lips left hers, Hester’s face was red and her eyelids fluttered.

“That was…” Hester drew a deep breath as she struggled to speak. “Quite enjoyable.”

“I couldn’t possibly agree with you more.” Frank ran a forefinger along Hester’s cheekbone, which made her skin prickle delightfully. “Where should I kiss you next? Your nose?” Frank leaned down, gently brushing his mouth across Hester’s tiny nose. “Your hand?” He raised her hand and kissed it several times. “Or your forehead, perhaps?” He lightly kissed the top of her head.

“You tease me.”

“It is such a joy to tease you.”

“It is such a joy to be with you,” Hester said, and she coiled her arms around him, holding him tight. She squeezed him with all her might, and with such fervor it was as if she never intended to let go of him. “I always want to be with you.”

“And I always want to be with you,” Frank softly replied. His whispered words made her entire body shiver.

“I want to be close to you,” Hester said. “Is it wrong to want to be close to you? To care for you?”

“Why would it be wrong? I care for you too.” Frank kissed her yet again—this time, on the crown of her head. “I don’t think it should ever be wrong to enjoy someone.”

“Perhaps I have enjoyed you.. a bit too much.” Hester closed her eyes as she recalled the feeling of his lips on hers. “Am I mad?”

Frank ignored her question. Instead, he said, “I should have seen it all along.”

“Hm?”

“
You
,” Frank whispered. “You should have been the one I wanted from the start. How did I not see it?
You
, Hester Waverly…
you
were meant for me.” He gently tapped her on the nose. “You bring out the best in me. You’ve been a friend to me, and more. You make me feel like I’m something better than I am.”

“And you make me feel… mad.” Hester took a step away from him and dragged her hands down her arms, as if brushing him off. “I know I’ve gone mad.”

Frank’s brow was pinched with concern. “Why do you say that?”

“We mustn’t do this again. We mustn’t speak of it. We must pretend as if it never happened!” Hester crossed her arms and hurried to the door. “Now… I really must go. Good day, Mr. Boswell.”

“
Mr. Boswell
?” he shrieked. “You’re calling me Mr. Boswell?”

But Hester fled before he could demand an explanation.

Hester had spent the last hour at the milliner with Cordelia—which, according to her sister, was an entirely necessary waste of life. Apparently, accepting Mr. Snowley’s proposal required a new hat, and Cordelia refused to be happy until she had seen and considered every variety of lace. Hester, however, had seen enough. After an hour of discussing flounce and fripperies, she decided to step outside for a bit of fresh air. She strolled to the end of an uncrowded street in search of some distraction from her unwelcome thoughts. She could not vanquish Frank—and yesterday’s kisses—from her mind. Thoughts of his lips consumed her.

Cordelia had no idea how complicated her sister’s life had become. And it was about to get even more complicated. As soon as Hester reached the end of the street, she saw Cecil Hargrave heading in her direction. Mr. Hargrave’s handsome face was easily the last sight she wanted to see. His presence only added to her inner turmoil.