The Spinster & The Coquette Read online

  “Of course.” Cordelia practically dragged her sister from her chair. “Good night, Aunt Hyacinth.”

  The sisters fled from the room, and as soon as they were alone, Hester hissed, “Why the sudden urgency? It was as if you could not leave quickly enough!”

  “I wanted to offer my cake to Frank.” Cordelia gripped her plate in both hands as they headed down the hall. “Our aunt seems a bit cruel in her treatment of him. Don’t you think he would like some cake as well?”

  “I… haven’t the slightest idea,” Hester replied.

  “Well, I believe he would like cake. Sacrificing my cake is a very kind gesture, and I would like to establish myself as a friend.”

  “And how do you plan to deliver the cake? Shall we visit him in his room?”

  “Pre-precisely…” Cordelia sounded a bit reluctant, as if she had not taken the time to consider the thought.

  “Does that not strike you as a bit improper… visiting a young man in his bedchamber?”

  “He is not just any young man, Hester. He is our cousin!”

  “He is no blood relation of ours.”

  “True enough. But he is only a boy.”

  “He’s nineteen,” Hester objected. “Practically a man.”

  “If you are so averse to the idea, Hes, you need not accompany me.” When they arrived at Frank’s door, Cordelia raised a fist to knock, but hesitated.

  “And leave you with a young man… alone? Perish the thought!” Though she ceased her argument, Hester crossed her arms in silent protest. She knew her sister would not be dissuaded once she set her mind to something. “What makes you think he would be willing to receive us? Hyacinth did say he preferred his solitude.”

  Before her sister could respond, the door opened. Propped up by his walking sticks, Frank appeared in the doorway. “Pardon the interruption,” he began, “but I heard a bit of your conversation, and I am almost certain that Hyacinth has made me out to be a hermit of the highest order.”

  “This is already the second time you have spied on us,” Cordelia noted. “Do you always eavesdrop on the conversations of others?”

  “I am really not an eavesdropper… the walls are very thin. Besides, I believe I have every right to defend myself.” Frank wandered away from the doorway, granting them entry. After hobbling to his bed, he turned around and watched them enter with a bemused expression on his face. “So, to what do I owe this… pleasure?”

  Hester did not miss the sarcasm in his voice, but Cordelia’s spirits were unsinkable. She held out her plate to him and exclaimed, “we brought you cake!”

  “Did you?” He accepted the proffered plate with a sigh. “That is very… kind of you.”

  “And I thought, perhaps, you might like a companion. Or, as the case may be, two companions!” Cordelia smiled at her sister as she spoke. “I was under the impression you were a bit lonely, and I daresay my sister and I are very good company!”

  “I have no compunctions about living in self-imposed solitude,” Frank insisted. “Nevertheless, it is refreshing to enjoy the company of those who are much closer to my age than Hyacinth.”

  “I am not so close in age to you, I am afraid.” Hester gently stroked the lines around her eyes—she was certain they gave away her age. “I am more than a decade older than you.”

  “Are you? I never would have guessed. You look very young, Miss Waverly.”

  “The general opinion of society is that it is preferable to look young and silly than old and wise, so I should thank you for what is apparently a compliment.” Hester, who was often thought of as a stern woman, flashed a rare smile at the young man sitting in front of her. “And please, call me Hester.”

  “And I would prefer to be called Cordelia, especially by someone who is practically family!” the younger sister chimed in.

  “Very well.” When Frank took a bite of his cake, his hand shook slightly. Hester wondered if he was nervous or if his condition plagued him with unintentional trembling. “I shall endeavor to do so.”

  “Do you really never leave your room?” Cordelia asked. “Never?”

  “I am not as hermitic as your aunt would have you believe. I simply have no reason to venture outside.”

  “Perhaps you should look for a reason?”

  Cordelia thought she was offering encouragement, but her words brought a frown to Frank’s lips. “The world hasn’t been very welcoming to me. People, in general, have not been very kind to me. I find that, in most cases, they are not worth the effort.”

  “It sounds as if you’ve had terrible luck with people, but Hester and I are very kind! Will you join us tomorrow in the garden? If we could have your company, I would like that very much!”

  Frank stared at his cake as he murmured his answer. “I would rather not.”

  “Perhaps I should put it another way.” Cordelia raised her chin defiantly and said, “You will join us tomorrow in the garden!”

  Frank’s eyes narrowed, silently challenging her. “Will I?”

  “Yes! You shall!” Cordelia’s lips dipped into a practiced pout, simultaneously precious and pitiful. “I would be so very disappointed if you refused!”

  “Well, I would certainly hate to disappoint you, Cordelia.” Frank turned toward the older sister, whose slight smile was somewhat reassuring. “If you insist on having my company tomorrow, I will find it within myself to be there.”

  “It is very kind of you to cede to my sister’s demands. When Cordelia gets an idea in her mind, she never relents. She is very… formidable.” Hester took her sister’s arm and tried to steer her in the direction of the door. “Now, we have burdened you long enough, and we should take our leave.”

  “But we only just arrived!” Cordelia protested. “Why don’t we—”

  “Enjoy your evening, Frank.” Hester gave her sister the lightest push. “And more importantly… enjoy your cake. We shall see you tomorrow.”

  When they were alone again, heading in the direction of their own room, Cordelia said, “He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”

  “Frank?”

  “Yes! Frank! Why do you sound surprised? It should be obvious! He has very pretty brown eyes.”

  “I suppose I can see the appeal. But he is very young.”

  “Perhaps you are very old?” Cordelia countered darkly. “Oh, Hes, do not look so cross! You know I am only teasing you!”

  “Are you?” Hester hardly sounded convinced.

  “I am! And as for Frank, I find myself intrigued. ” Cordelia gave her sister a playful nudge. “Perhaps our time in Plymouth will not be so very dreadful after all.”

  Chapter Three

  “Are you absolutely certain you should sit on the ground, Mr. Boswell?” Hester asked. “If it is easier, I am sure we could find a bench or—”

  “I am fine, I assure you.” Frank was already lowering himself to the ground. “It is really no trouble at all.”

  “But surely it is much less difficult to rise from a bench? The ground is so very… low.”

  “The ground is low?” Cordelia threw back her head and cackled loudly. “I don’t believe I have ever heard a more obvious observation. My sister’s nonsensical utterances are most amusing! I am sure Frank does not need you to fret over him, Hester. I am sure he knows what he is capable of.”

  Nevertheless, Hester’s brow was pinched with concern. If walking was such a labor for him, she was worried he would be unable to rise from such a low position.

  “Your sister’s concern is touching… in a way,” Frank said. “I am more concerned as to why she has reverted to calling me Mr. Boswell.”

  “My apologies.” Hester sat on the ground beside Frank and watched him set his walking sticks aside. “I am not accustomed to being on such familiar terms with men, particularly men with whom I have not been very long acquainted.”

  “My sister is so fussy today!” Cordelia grumbled as she sat on the other side of Frank. “Clearly she has gotten too old.”

  “Too
old for what, exactly?” Hester asked.

  “Too old to appreciate spontaneity,” Cordelia explained, “too old to be swayed by whims.”

  “I would rather not be swayed by whims!”

  Cordelia pulled a basket onto her lap and extracted the fruit she packed. She tossed an apple to Frank and handed her sister a pear. “I’m assuming you like apples?” The question was directed at Frank, who had already bitten the apple to its core.

  “Indeed. Is there anyone who doesn’t like apples?”

  “My sister,” Cordelia said. “She detests apples… and yet she loves pears. Is that not the most absurd thing you have ever heard? They taste entirely the same!”

  “They most certainly do not taste the same!” Hester objected. “Pears are much softer, sweeter, and less bitter.”

  “They taste the same,” the younger sister quietly insisted. While they bickered over fruit, Cordelia reached into the basket and claimed a peach.

  “Very well… perhaps they are not so dissimilar. I believe my aversion to apples may stem from having once bitten into a large worm that was living inside of one!”

  “That sounds dreadful,” Frank said.

  “It was dreadful! It was the sort of thing you never forget, even though it happened to me as a child.” Hester’s teeth sank into her pear and she took a moment to chew. “I also have a terrible fear of spiders. If I see one, do not be alarmed if I run away very quickly.”

  “My sister is afraid of many things,” Cordelia said. “Ghosts.”

  “If you were subjected to the same ghostly encounters as me, you would fear them too!” Hester defended herself.

  “Water.”

  “Only if the water is very deep. I nearly drowned in a lake when I was a child. You cannot blame me for being apprehensive!”

  “Snakes.”

  “Honestly, Cordelia, that one is unfair! Is there anyone who is not at least somewhat afraid of snakes?”

  “You should not be ashamed of your fears, Hester,” Frank defended her. “Fears make you cautious, and it is always wise to err on the side of caution.”

  “Thank you, Frank.” Hester saw movement in the grass, and it took her a moment to spot the very large, black beetle ambling between the blades. She watched it for several seconds and hoped it did not come closer. She felt no need to confess that spiders were not the only bug she feared. As soon as the beetle disappeared and her pear was consumed, she reached for the book she brought with her. “Do you like to read?”

  “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, w
hich 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.