“Demon!” Titherington scolded. “Shame on you acting the beggar.”
If a horse could look contrite, this one did. Faith had to laugh, and she noticed her laughter brought the gentleman’s eyes back to her. It felt like a physical touch.
She looked down as she shined the apple upon her sleeve. “A small snack for my walk,” she explained. “Might he have it?”
“No!” Mr. Titherington cried. “I would not allow that empty pit of an animal to pluck your meal from your pocket. He shall not be given any more apples for a week as punishment.”
The horse tossed his beautiful ebony mane and stomped in frustration. Faith would almost think that the beast could understand what it was that they were saying.
“How cruel,” she scolded the owner, who shook his head. He too seemed to be having a difficult time containing his amusement, though he was much more successful than Faith who had given up on the farce.
“He eats well enough without a constant supply of treats,” the gentleman replied.
“Oh, but you just wanted a snack, didn’t you boy?” She crooned and reached forward to scratch the animal under his chin.
“Be careful!” Mr. Titherington cried with one hand outstretched. The note of concern in his voice caused Faith to freeze in her motion, but her fingers were already tangled in the animal’s glorious mane. “He has been known to bite.” Titherington finished lamely.
Faith raised an eyebrow, but Demon leaned into her and banked his head ever the slightest to encourage her to continue her scratching. She did so without hesitation while his master looked on in surprised horror. With her free hand, Faith offered the apple upon an open palm. The fruit was gobbled up without hesitation, or injury.
“You should not feed a stallion so,” Titherington warned. “He could take more than you chose to give,” he said.
He caught Faith’s still bare hand, and drew his own gloved finger up from her palm to the tip of her ring finger, “a finger perhaps.”
She stood unable to move with his touch like a fire upon her skin.
“I am sure he is as sweet as can be,” she said breathlessly. Not a rogue at all, she thought. She wondered if she was still thinking of the horse as she looked up into the gentleman’s dark eyes. Then Demon nuzzled her neck and pulled at the strings of the bonnet that hung down her back with gentle probing lips, and she turned, surprised.
“He is a traitor. That is what he is,” the gentleman grumbled.
Faith smiled at the gentleman’s plight. The horse, she decided, was a dear. And the man? She was undecided.
“Well, Demon,” she rubbed her palm against Demon’s neck one last time and spoke to the animal alone. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” With that, she nodded firmly to the gentleman. “Good day, sir.”
She turned upon her heel and continued toward town. In her wake, stood the shocked gentleman who had need to grasp the reigns of the horse to keep him from following after her.
“I shall discover your name Miss,” he called after her.
Faith could not help but to laugh heartily. She kept her head turned towards her destination although she felt the weight of his stare on her back.
3
Faith caught sight of the Baggington carriage in front of Miss Merton’s sewing shop as she entered the bookstore next door.
The widow, Mrs. Pears, greeted her kindly and Faith browsed through the store, picking out a bottle of India ink to purchase for her writing before she pulled her manuscript from her bag. She was not inclined to tell secrets to strangers; so instead, she invented a small tale of her cousin, Mr. Arthur Emerson who wrote the manuscript. Faith told the widow about the tale, and the woman was very helpful. She told Faith the address of a printer she knew in London. Before long, the manuscript was addressed and ready to be sent. Faith bid the woman goodbye and went next door to the dress shop. She dearly hoped that she had dawdled long enough to be relieved of most of the tediousness of fitting.
“Oh darling,” her mother said as Faith entered the shop. “I am so glad you have decided to come.” The Dowager Viscountess Mortel brushed a stray dark hair from Faith’s brow. “You look a bit windblown, my dear.”
“It was windy,” Faith said.
“Oh! And the hem of your dress!”
Faith shrugged. “I suppose I shall have a new dress, shan’t I?” She looked to Hope who was standing on a pedestal so that Miss Merton could pin her gown. The seamstress knelt on the floor as she draped the fabric. Her mouth was full of pins.
“Faith, do come here,” Hope said. “You missed the most wonderful afternoon. What a shame that you could not be here in town earlier. Is that not so, Mother?”
Faith’s mother nodded appreciatively, but Faith could think of nothing wonderful about shopping for ribbons and dresses. When she said as much, her sister laughed aloud. “Not ribbons, silly. Though I must admit they too are divine. I met the Baroness Torsford. She was here earlier, and she invited us to a ladies’ tea. Well, actually, I believe she was inviting Lady Ainsworth, but I intercepted the invitation as well. You do remember Addie Walker, do you not?”
Faith wrinkled up her nose. “I have no desire to go about with that pack of hens. Have you forgotten how they treated our sisters?”
“Of course I remember. I am not a ninny, am I?” Hope said with exasperation. “I remember, but I also know that Isaac wants to enter back into society, and we cannot do that without acceptance from the other ladies in Nettlefold.”
“Nonsense,” Faith said. “What Nettlefold says means nothing to London.”
“London? Do you really think we shall have a season in London?”
“Oh my dears,” Their mother interrupted. “Isaac is doing his best, but London is perhaps not yet within reason. Besides,” the Dowager Viscountess continued as if Miss Mary Merton were not right in the fitting room with them. “Talented though Miss Merton is, she is not a London dressmaker.”
“Her dresses suit me fine,” Faith said throwing a smile at the woman who was attempting not to listen to their conversation. “I am sure whatever she makes for me will be beautiful.”
“Why should she make anything for you?” Hope teased. “You were not here for your fitting.”
“You did ask the lady for two dresses, did you not?” Faith asked.
“I did,” Hope sighed.
“But perhaps Mary could put a few less ribbons and baubles on mine.”
“Because you are like to tear them off with your hoyden ways,” Hope said sourly.
“Girls!” Mother said scandalized.
“I am not a hoyden,” Faith said annoyed.
“Of course, you are not, dear,” Mother soothed.
“I am tired of wearing matching outfits,” Faith said. “It is childish, and I have my own sense of fashion.”
“Then perhaps you should have stood for your own dress fitting. Besides, you like when we can switch places and make people guess who we are,” Hope challenged.
“Yes, only they so very rarely can,” Faith said. “I want to be my own woman, Hope, not simply half of a set.”
Hope looked genuinely hurt.
Faith sighed. She loved her twin sister, but she wished to be thought of as a separate person. She could not understand why Hope liked being treated as only part of a set. “So what color are my ribbons?” she asked Miss Merton.
“Lilac,” the seamstress said through the pins in her mouth, proving that she could hear the ladies’ conversation just fine. The seamstress gestured with her head towards a pile of beautiful white silk which lay on the counter, along with two bundles of shimmering satin for the sashes and trimmings. One bundle was lilac and the other a dusty rose color.
“I wanted the pink,” Hope said. “And since you were not here to say nay, I chose it.”
“I like the lilac,” Faith said.
As Miss Merton finished pinning, Hope stepped from her perch and Faith caught her sister’s hands.
“The lilac is perfect fo
r spring, Hope, and I do appreciate your standing for the fitting.” She said. “You are the best sister.”
She hugged Hope, and Miss Merton cautioned. “Do be careful of the pins.”
“Yes. Well, you are welcome,” Hope said, grimacing as several of the pins stuck her with Faith’s hug. “And Faith, I do want you to go with me to the tea at Baroness Torsford’s home,” she said. “It is important that we cultivate relations with the ladies here. You know it is true.”
Faith sighed. She did know that Hope was right, but she did not have to like it.
“Do not mope. We shall have fun.” Hope said cheerfully as they finished the fitting and bid the seamstress good day. Faith looked at Hope for a long moment trying to regain their sisterly camaraderie.
“Shall we have tea at the Nettlerush Tearoom before we go home?” Mother asked. She frowned at Faith. “You do look like you could use some refreshment.”
“Very well,” Faith agreed. “But when we return home, Hope, we must finish planning straight away. I had an idea on my walk.” Mr. Titherington had inspired a scene between Cassondra and her captain of the guard, and Faith wanted to get all of the details just right.
Hope seemed to read her mind. “Yes. Cassondra’s tryst with her captain,” She said with sparkling eyes, and Faith picked up the thread of the conversation.
Mother hushed them. “You must not speak of trysts in public,” she admonished. Faith knew that their mother thought they should let go of their silly fantasy of writing and concentrate on finding husbands. Although now that Father had passed and the condition of their home much improved, haste was not so necessary. The twins were both young enough to have several years before they would be deemed old maids.
“I had the most wonderful inspiration today,” Faith said as they were seated in the Nettlerush tea room awaiting service. Her eyes flashed with the thought of Oscar Titherington and for a moment she considered telling her sister about her adventure on the road, but for some reason, she did not. Perhaps it was because Mother was present. Or perhaps it was because she wanted to keep Mr. Oscar Titherington to herself, just for a day or two. The thought sent a shiver through her as she sipped her tea. Mother and Hope chatted on about the dresses and what accessories they would use, but Faith’s thoughts were far away along a wooded lane.
Upon their return, Faith discovered the arrival of her brothers, Simon and Jesse, who were on leave from their military duties. They had not been meant to return until the following week, and the surprise was most welcome. Hope was in a rush to visit with them, but Faith had to change her ripped dress, and Hope followed her, chiding her for being so careless. Hope asked what happened and how the dress got ripped, and Faith, for the first time in her life did not share with her sister. The adventure with Titherington seemed a private thing. Instead, Faith simply hurried to change her ripped dress. She would mend the collar on the morrow.
“I did have an adventure in town, of sorts,” Faith confessed. “I packaged up our manuscript and sent it off to a printer.”
“You what!” Hope turned on her, eyes blazing. “You had no right to do that. The manuscript is as much mine as yours.”
“Of course it is,” Faith soothed her sister. “I did not take credit alone. I put our byline as one Mr. Arthur Emerson.” She did not need to explain the origin of the name. She was sure that her sister would guess it was from Merlin and King Arthur.
Hope pursed her lips and Faith tried to placate her. “Like you said, a woman shan’t be taken seriously, but a man will, so you are Hope and I am Faith, but together we are Arthur Emerson.”
After Faith’s explanation, Hope seemed a bit subdued. She sat on the bed. “You actually sent it?”
“I did.” Faith looked at her twin for a long moment. “Are you not happy?”
“I am. It is only a bit nerve racking. Though I thought I had time for one more revision,” Hope said.
Faith sighed. Hope always was fussing over things. Faith thought it was fine as is. “Oh, blast and botheration. It will be marvelous. You shall see,” Faith promised.
Hope nodded, catching her sister’s eagerness. Both girls giggled excitedly.
“We should go downstairs,” Hope said finally. “Our brothers will wonder where we ran off to.”
Faith agreed.
Once downstairs, Faith joined her brothers, and their sister, Mercy. The group adjourned to the parlor, so that, the ladies might listen to Simon and Jessie’s tales of their daring adventures and extensive travels. Faith kept alert for any bits that may be usable in the stories she shared with her twin.
After a while, Simon and Mercy started up a chess game and Jesse meandered his way over to Faith’s chair while Mother spoke to Hope about a mistake in her needlepoint. The two of them were engaged in picking stitches. Faith shuddered with the thought. Jesse settled himself upon the plush, curved arm of the chair where Faith was sitting.
“How is my favorite twin doing?” He asked with a wink.
“You say that equally to both of us,” Faith accused with a grin.
“Do I?” he gasped in feigned offense at the accusation. “Now, that cannot be true.”
“You know it to be, but I shall allow it. I have missed you, Jesse.”
“Just the same,” he continued. “How have you been? Any new mischief that you ought to confess?”
“Not at all, I am afraid,” Faith began with a sigh, but the memory of her stroll that afternoon was foremost in her mind, and her face warmed with the thought.
Her brother knew her too well. “Out with it,” he said.
Faith bit her lip. She turned to her brother with a secretive whisper. “Now that I think of it I did meet the most irritating fellow on my walk this afternoon. You mustn’t tell.” She knew, even before asking, that he would not because Jesse was the best keeper of secrets and a great lover of intrigue, but it was with Hope she usually shared her secrets, and so the moment seemed strange.
“Oh? Do tell.” Jesse moved from his perch at her side to the ottoman so that he might face her with a look of keen interest.
“I met a gentleman on the road. We were not introduced, so our conversation was most improper.”
Jesse frowned, his face taking on a look of concern.
“Oh, do not fret,” Faith said, slapping her brother on the shoulder. “He seemed harmless.”
“No man is harmless,” Jesse warned.
Faith shrugged. “He claimed that his name was Mr. Titherington,” she revealed with an exaggerated scoff. “If that is true then I have heard the most dreadful tales about him, and he ought not even be in Nettlefold.” She watched her brother bristle at the thought of an untoward gentleman encountering his sister upon the isolated lane, but when Faith laid a consolatory hand upon his arm and assured him that she was quite unharmed, he settled back into his ease.
“Faith, you should not be out on the road alone,” Jesse said shaking his head.
“It was on our lane,” Faith protested.
“Did he at least have the decency to offer to walk you to town?” her brother pressed.
“Of course he did,” she said with a nod, “and of course he was refused. I would rather enter town alone than at the side of such a man. Anyway, I turned around and waited a bit before going into town. It was all for the best.” She grinned at her brother. “I missed my dress fitting entirely.”
Jesse laughed aloud at Faith’s finagling to get out of a dress fitting.
“Minx,” Jesse said. “Did Hope stand for you again?”
“Yes,” Faith said.
Jesse sighed. “Still,” he said. “I am concerned about the gentleman. I do not believe he is reformed,” Jesse said with a shrug. “Leopards do not change their spots.”
“Oh, have you seen a leopard?” Faith asked suddenly curious about her brother’s travels. If he had seen such an animal.
“Do not change the subject, Faith. It sounds to me as if you spoke to the gentleman at length,” Jesse offered a knowing look a
nd Faith did not care for it. It was bad enough when her eldest brother Isaac took that patronizing tone with her. She did not appreciate it from Jesse and was annoyed.
“He did nearly run me down,” she snapped. “Of course he must, at the very least, offer an apology.”
Jessie nodded and narrowed his eyes. “Which you refused, I might guess.”
“Of course I did!” she declared as if the answer was obvious. “Why would I not? We are not even introduced. It was all very improper.”
“If you cared at all for the impropriety, you would have ended the conversation. You would have offered an assured ‘it is no matter, thank you’ and parted ways. You say that is all that occurred, yet you blush most profoundly to speak of him.” Faith did not care for her brother’s observations. Jesse was far too knowing in the ways of gentlemen and ladies for Faith to pull the wool over his eyes.
“He took my book,” she said piqued.
“Your book,” Jesse repeated. He knew that neither of the twins went anywhere without a scrap of paper to write upon should an idea come to them.
“Its recovery necessitated a longer interaction,” Faith said, and Jesse raised an eyebrow. Faith felt her face heat as she thought of how she retrieved the thing.
Faith could see Jesse considering the matter, and she was sure she would not like what he would decide. His time in the military had shown him that men were cut from many cloths and sometimes changed their colors…but not often. “You should not go into town without a chaperone, Faith.”
“Oh, no! Jesse! You are not so stiff as Isaac. Surely, you shan’t forbid me.”
“I shan’t forbid, you, dear sister,” he said. “But perhaps you should spend your time working on your needlepoint.” He shot a glance to Hope and Mother who had their heads together over the sewing.
“Oh posh!” She said, knowing that Hope only tolerated the needlepoint because Mother had caught her.
“Well, then, work on your stories, and leave thoughts of this man behind. I declare, I have not heard a new story since I left for the army. Surely you have something to show me.”
The Lady to Match a Rogue: Faith (The Baggington Sisters Book 4) Page 3
