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Authors: Caylen McQueen

BOOK: The Spinster & The Coquette
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“Indeed,” Frank replied. “I have wasted many candles while reading into the darkest hours of the night.”

“Have you ever read the works of Miss Austen?” Hester asked.

“I am afraid I have not.”

“My sister and I adore the works of Jane Austen,” Hester continued, and held up the book for Frank to observe. “This novel, in particular, is called
Emma
. It is one of my favorites… and there happens to be a character named Frank.”

His eyebrow was raised. “Is there?”

“Indeed. Frank Churchill. He is not one of my favorite characters, I am loath to admit. Nevertheless, the fact that you share his name is an interesting observation to make. Would you like me to read to you?”

Frank smiled so broadly, slight dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I would like that very much.”

As Hester read aloud, her voice was very concise, crisp, and lilting. “
Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of
the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to
distress or vex her.
” Hester raised her eyes from the text and grinned at her sister. “Already we get the sense that Emma might be a bit spoiled. Incidentally, I have always felt she bore some similarity to a certain sister of mine.”

Cordelia crossed her arms. “Are you saying I am spoiled?”

Hester did not respond; she simply turned her eyes back to the page and continued to read aloud. “
She was the youngest of the two daughters of a most affectionate, indulgent father, and had, in consequence of marriage, been mistress
—”

Cordelia interrupted, “My similarities to Emma have already ended. Our father is most certainly
not
indulgent, or he would not have sent me here to punish me!” When she saw Frank’s lips dip into a frown, she quickly added, “That is not to say I am not happy to visit Plymouth… I… I was only pointing out that my father has little regard for my feelings. I cannot imagine what a luxury it would be to have a father who actually cared!”

“And I cannot imagine what a luxury it would be to have a father at all,” Frank added.

“Oh, Frank! I had forgotten you no longer have a father. I must seem dashed insensitive! I am so, so very sorry!” Cordelia clasped a hand to her chest, over her heart. “Can you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Frank assured her, and turned his attention back to Hester, who read the entire first chapter with impressive enthusiasm and vigor. When the chapter was finished, he praised her. “Your voice is very rich, sonorous and soothing. I believe I could listen to you read for hours.”

“That is very kind of you, Frank. I have had practice. I used to read to Cordelia when she was a child.”

Suddenly, Cordelia snatched the book out of her sister’s lap and exclaimed, “Let me read!” She did not want her sister to be lavished with all of the praise and attention. In a much softer, delicate voice, Cordelia read, “
Mr. Weston was a native of Highbury, and born of a respectable family
…” As she spoke, Cordelia slowly lowered her head until it was resting on Frank’s lap. She held the book aloft and continued, “
which for the last two of three generations had been rising into gentility and prosperity
.”


Cordelia
?!” the older sister gasped, “What on earth are you doing?”

“I am resting my head in Frank’s lap as I read.” Cordelia looked inappropriately innocent as she uttered her inadequate answer. “I am sure he does not mind too much.” Judging from the smile on the young man’s lips, Cordelia knew she was correct.

“Sit up
at once
!” her sister demanded.

Cordelia sensed Frank’s affinity for her from the moment he laid eyes on her, and she did not want to sit up and spoil his fun. The boy had such a sheltered existence—getting cozy with Cordelia was likely the most exciting event of his young life. She opted to ignore her sister’s demands and continued to read, undaunted.

Though she heartily disapproved of her sister’s brazen behavior, Hester said nothing more. She knew Cordelia would not listen to reason, nor could she be discouraged once she had an idea in her mind. Furthermore, Frank looked positively delighted by her closeness—the poor boy simply could not stop staring at her pretty, young sister. Hester hoped Cordelia would not play with the boy’s heart. Even more so, she hoped their father would never hear of Cordelia’s increasing boldness, for he was already distressed by her deteriorating reputation in London. Cordelia was hardly a lightskirt, but her ceaseless flirting made her appear as such. Sending her to Plymouth was the only way to end the gossip and discourage the rakes.

Caddish Lord Cavendish was out of their life—temporarily—but nothing had changed. Hester studied her younger sister, nestled in Frank’s lap, and wondered if she had traded one inappropriate flirtation for another. Cordelia was truly an incorrigible young woman.


Now, upon his father’s marriage, it was generally proposed, as a most proper attention
.”


Cordelia
,” Hester suddenly hissed her sister’s name. “Try to look decent. Our aunt is heading toward us.”

Cordelia sat up immediately, straightened her hair, and adopted an air of impeccable composure. “Do you think she saw me lying on Frank’s lap?”

“From her vantage point, I doubt it. Nevertheless, you would do well to be more careful.” To the young man, Hester added, “And you as well, Frank.”

As Hyacinth approached, she exclaimed, “Girls! I have wonderful news!”

There was a subsequent pause, which prompted Cordelia to say, “
Well
? Do not keep us in suspense, Aunt!”

“We have been invited to an assembly at Lord Tipton’s estate in honor of his daughter’s debut in society. Compared to the lavish balls in London, I am sure it shall be a rather small affair, but it should afford you an opportunity to meet the local gentry. I will be your chaperone, of course.”

“Will we be meeting any young gentlemen?” Cordelia asked; her eyes lit up at the thought of it. Nothing made her happier than flirting and dancing and being doted on.

“Of course, dear. Of course. I will help you choose the most suitable attire. You will want to look your best, but… perhaps nothing too extravagant.”

“I have a pale blue gown that should suit the occasion,” Cordelia said.

“Perhaps I should let you borrow my mother’s necklace? She was your grandmother, of course. I am sure she would be happy to see it passed on to such a lovely young woman.”

As Cordelia and her aunt prattled about the dance party, Hester met Frank’s gaze and sighed. He could see she was far less ardent than her sister, so he whispered, “As you might have guessed, I wasn’t invited. And even if I was invited, I would not go.”

“I do
so
wish I could avoid going. I would much rather stay behind with you.” Hester dragged her hand along her face in despair. “Wallflowers are far less eager than social darlings like Cordelia. I never dance, nor am I ever asked to dance.”

“And dancing…” Frank continued in a whisper, “is not something I am particularly skilled at. I am sure you are very surprised!”

Nodding his head in the direction of his damnable walking sticks, Frank winked at Hester.

Chapter Four

When the sisters accompanied their aunt to the dance party, Cordelia was—perhaps unsurprisingly—surrounded by admirers within minutes. Who could blame the gentlemen for being drawn to her? With her chestnut hair, freckles, pale blue gown, and piercing green eyes, she was easily the prettiest girl in the room. Cordelia’s allure was so strong, it was as if every man in her vicinity had been struck by the arrow of Cupid.

Much to Hester’s dismay, her sister was back to her usual habits: flirting and giggling and coquettishly simpering behind her fan. Cordelia thrived on male attention, and did nothing to discourage her many admirers, and she made it her mission to dance with every man who doted on her.

Hester resisted the temptation to roll her eyes each time Cordelia rapped a young gentleman on the arm with her fan. In truth, she envied her sister. It wasn’t as if men ever doted on
her
. Hester had always been a wallflower, and that fact would likely never change, even though the scenery had changed. Plymouth was no kinder to her than London.

After three dances and several minutes of neglect, Cordelia finally remembered her sister’s existence. When she returned to Hester’s side, her emerald eyes were glowing with excitement. “Hester!” She seized her sister’s arm and squeezed. “I can hardly believe it! There are more handsome gentlemen in Plymouth than I anticipated!”

“Is that so?”

“Are you saying you haven’t noticed? Good gracious, Hester, one might think you lacked a pulse! How could any woman with a decent pair of eyes fail to notice beautiful Mr. Snowley or handsome Mr. Hewlitt?”

“Mr. Snowley, Mr. Hewlitt, and none of their brethren have been introduced to me.”

“But surely you could have admired them from afar? They are easy enough to notice. Mr. Hewlitt is so tall, he towers above everyone. And Mr. Snowley’s hair is as black as midnight, and it looks so very soft and shiny. Have you ever been tempted to touch a man’s hair just to see if it is as soft as it looks?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun, Hes. Absolutely no fun at all!”

“Then you need not waste your time with me, not when there are so many men who long to dance with the great beauty from London. I grant you permission to abandon me at any moment, Cordelia. Leave your ape leader sister to sulk in a corner.”

“You are no ape leader!” Cordelia defended her sister.
“Am I not? I am most certainly a spinster, quite firmly on the shelf. And I have never been a beauty, not like you.” That much was true. In comparison to her sister, Hester might have been described as plain. Her straight blonde hair had no luster, her chin was a bit pointy, and her cheeks were pale and colorless. “I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like to be flirted with as relentlessly as you are.”

“It is… pleasant,” the younger sister admitted.

“But must you flirt with
everyone
? If you carry on, every man in the room will end up horribly attached to you, only to discover your heart belongs to Lord Cavendish.”

“I must confess, I enjoy the attention!” Cordelia exclaimed. “And my heart hardly belongs to Lord Cavendish. It is true that I cared for him once, but it wasn’t as if we had an understanding. My heart is anyone’s to capture.”

“That is very good news for Mr. Snowley and Mr… Hewlitt, was it?” Suddenly, Hester’s mind recalled an image of Frank Boswell’s boyish face. If the boy was forming an attachment to Cordelia, as Hester suspected, he would have little luck.

“Truth be told, I am particularly fond of Mr. Snowley. His voice is so deep and soft, and I quite like the way his dark hair contrasts with his pale skin. He is the only man I have agreed to dance with a second time. When he comes to collect me for the dance,
do
look at his eyes! They’re so dark. So mysterious. So penetrating. They pierce my soul!”

“Already you swoon for this man!” Hester laughed. “You are so very fickle, Cordelia.”

“Tease me if you must, but I believe there is something very special about him!” Cordelia insisted. “He is even more handsome than Lord Cavendish.”

“I should like to see this man, to see if he lives up to the praise. What else can you tell me about your dear Mr. Snowley?”

“He is thirty, his father is a baronet, and he seems rather well off,” Cordelia began. “He has three siblings, all of them sisters, which I was very pleased to discover. Sisters can have an immeasurable effect on a man. A gentleman with sisters tends to be more sensitive, more understanding… more—”


Thirty
,” Hester grumbled. “Your Mr. Snowley is the same age as I am, and yet it would be unconscionable for a man of his age to pursue a woman of my age.”

“Pardon?”

“No matter,” Hester sighed. “Do continue.”

Cordelia lowered her voice and whispered, “As much as I would like to say more, I’m afraid I cannot. Mr. Snowley approaches!”

When Cordelia’s beau appeared in front of them, Hester immediately understood why her sister was drawn to him. He was so handsome, one might have been tempted to use the word
beauty
to describe him. His hair was black and thick, his obsidian eyes were smoldering, and his dark blue greatcoat was molded to his lean form. Mr. Snowley’s lips were pink and impossibly full, and perhaps a bit feminine, but appealing nonetheless. The faint lines around his eyes suggested that he was a man who smiled frequently.

“It is such a pleasure to see you again, Miss Waverly. As you might suspect, I have come to claim you for our dance.”

“Of course. But first, I would like to introduce you to someone very dear to me.” Cordelia turned in Hester’s direction and smiled. “This is Hester. Hester Waverly. My elder sister.”

“Good evening, Miss Waverly.” Without warning, Mr. Snowley seized the older sister’s hand and raised it to his lips. She could feel his breath as his mouth descended on her hand. It was peculiarly pleasant, and she silently cursed herself for wearing gloves. Even more so, she cursed herself for her immediate attraction to her sister’s handsome beau. “I am Alexander Snowley. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise,” Hester said.

Alexander smiled at her, which made the lines around his eyes more prominent. The deepening lines made him look more handsome, if possible. “What a pretty pair you are,” he said.

“Oh please, Mr. Snowley, you needn’t say that.” Hester dismissed his remark with a flick of her wrist. “I am hardly my sister’s equal. She is, and has always been, the pretty one.”

“You are both very pretty, certainly.” Despite having complimented both sisters, Mr. Snowley made no effort to converse with Hester further. His interest in Cordelia was obvious—not that Hester could blame him. “I meant to tell you, Miss Waverly, the ribbon in your hair is rather fetching.”

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