The Lady to Match a Rogue: Faith (The Baggington Sisters Book 4)

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The Lady to Match a Rogue: Faith (The Baggington Sisters Book 4) Page 15

by Isabella Thorne


  Titherington sighed. “Of course, I would not,” he nodded towards Hope. “I did indeed enjoy a dance with the beautiful Miss Hope, but still I pray you, say you are not vexed with me, that I am not the reason you did not attend last night.”

  “You overstate your importance, Sir,” Faith said. “I was feeling a bit under the weather. That is all.”

  She coughed lightly just for show, but a tickle in her throat making the cough sound all the more real. A sneeze came up suddenly, and Faith only just got her handkerchief beneath her nose. She held it a moment expecting a second outburst. The sneeze seemed to loosen the congestion in her head and she wished to use the handkerchief more vigorously, but that would be gauche. She sniffed lightly and smiled at Mr. Titherington.

  “God bless you,” he said.

  “I seem to have taken a chill,” she told him.

  “I am sorry to have doubted you. You do look as though you should be home abed,” he said and then cleared his throat, but did not apologize for his overly familiar comment. Instead, he took a moment to grin at her, and Faith blushed at thoughts of this man and beds. “I mean. That is…Do get well, Miss Faith,” he said, the deep tenor of his voice rumbling over her skin.

  “Thank you,” Faith said. “Rest assured that I am not vexed with you in the least.” How could one be vexed at such a gallant gentleman? Her heart would not allow it.

  She turned and caught up with her sister who waited upon the lane. As soon as they were out of earshot she paused and filled her handkerchief. The action brought on a coughing spell. Her sister patted her on the back.

  “You do not sound well,” Hope said solicitously.

  “I don’t feel well,” Faith said, “and do not think it a consequence of the drink last night.”

  “No,” Hope agreed. “More like a consequence of riding home in the rain.”

  No sooner had Hope spoken than Faith broke into another fit of coughing.

  17

  Faith developed an ague.

  A painstakingly long week passed before a letter arrived telling the twins that Mercy was safe and their hearts were relieved. Faith had spent most of those days convalescing. Near the week’s end, a second letter was delivered to Mr. Emerson, and the girls only just managed to keep it from the prying eyes of their mother.

  “He is inviting me…well, Mr. Emerson to meet him in London,” Faith said. “He wants to introduce me to Mr. Maddox. I still need to retrieve our books. I should at least answer the letter.” She looked at her sister for confirmation.

  Hope nodded. “We should wait a day or two. If our cousin is still in London the post would not arrive so soon.”

  “But perhaps Emerson has returned, while our brothers are still away.”

  “Faith,” Hope admonished firmly. “You cannot simply dress in trousers anytime you well please. If you were to be found out, you would be ruined. I do not think you should tempt fate.”

  Faith was torn. Hope was right, of course, but Faith never truly wished to marry. She could not bear the thought of a husband who would curtail her writing, thinking it not a proper ladies’ pastime. Men tended to put a stop to things they could not control, and she did not intend to be controlled. Only the thought of her sister’s reputation gave her pause.

  “We still have to get the books. As I said, I am sure Mr. Titherington will be looking for Mr. Emerson. He can’t just disappear. If we don’t go there, Titherington will come here looking for the man. There will be questions.”

  “Exactly. Titherington thinks Emerson is our cousin, and what will Isaac say when Mr. Titherington shows up on our doorstep looking for our imaginary cousin? He will be livid. It is best to end this now, while Isaac is away, and give reason why Mr. Emerson is absent. Then, we will have an end to this madness.”

  The twins debated on just what to say.

  The week passed, and Oscar Titherington was rife with worry. There was no news from the Baggingtons or from Emerson except for a brief note left at his cottage saying there was some matter of Miss Mercy that must be attended. The more time passed, the more Oscar worried. He threw himself into the charity work with Lady Torsford in an attempt to distract his mind, but he could not be distracted. Faith Baggington was in his every thought.

  Even the baron noticed. “She has her hooks in you,” Edgar said, but it was not like that. Titherington shook his head, and the baron laughed. “When is the wedding?” he asked, and Titherington guffawed.

  Nonetheless, as much as he could fend off the teasing from his friend, he was sincerely worried. Miss Faith had not seemed well when they had last spoken. The thought of her ill caused a physical pain in his own heart. He needed to see her; at least to be sure of her well-being.

  Finally, he sent a note to the Baggington’s home asking to call, but had only received a response that the family was not accepting visitors. Perhaps Miss Faith’s illness was catching. She had only seemed a bit under the weather when they last spoke, but people did die from influenza. The thought was like a stake in his heart. If she was deathly ill, he would not be notified. He was not family or even a close friend. At last, Oscar determined that he could not sit idle. He would go to the house. He didn’t give a tinker’s damn about what was proper. At least, the servants would be able to tell him if Faith still suffered from her ague. Then he remembered that the baron still had Emerson’s books. He decided he would fetch the things and deliver them to the Baggington estate. Baron Torsford chuckled as he ordered his footman to load the books, but Titherington would not be deterred. He determined that the servants would not turn him away until he saw Miss Faith was well.

  As the carriage pulled up to the Baggington residence, Oscar saw the twins sitting on the veranda. Unimaginable relief flowed through him. She was not at death’s door. The ladies rushed to pick up a number of items as the carriage approached. When the carriage stopped Oscar noted a bag bulging with what he assumed was sewing materials. One sister was trying to settle the bag’s contents, but the other interrupted her, took the bag and shoved it decisively under a side table as he stepped down from the carriage. His eyes were only for Miss Faith. He thought he had discerned which twin was which: Faith was the decisive one. She looked rather pale, but at least she was up, taking the fresh air. He realized that his worry had been silly, but he was glad to see her for himself. She was unutterably beautiful.

  “I have brought your cousin’s books,” he announced.

  “Our cousin is in London,” Hope blurted.

  “So I understand. He sent me a letter telling of some trouble your sister encountered. I have determined that I shall meet him there to see if I can help. In any case, I thought I should perhaps leave the books in your care. I do not know his lodging arrangements in London and since the books had already been sent from London…” He paused and shrugged. “I thought to leave on the morrow, and hoped for a short visit before I depart.” His eyes were drawn to Miss Faith.

  “You wish to meet our cousin in London?” She said slowly.

  He met her gaze. She looked exceedingly pale, but her eyes were bright. Some pall seemed to have fallen over them. Perhaps it was worry for their sister. Had he not spent the last week in dire straits considering that Faith might be unwell? He wanted to comfort her, to take her in his arms as he had done on the road. Would she melt against him as she had previously?

  “I hoped that perhaps I can do some small favor for your family.”

  “In London?” Faith repeated.

  “Yes. If you can give me the address of your cousin in Town…”

  “We do not have it,” Hope said.

  He supposed most women were not privy to a gentleman’s business, but the man was their relation. Surely, they knew the address of his London lodgings. “Surely…” he began, but Faith interrupted him.

  “I am sure he will be home soon,” she said.

  “Yes,” the other twin agreed.

  “Please, do sit down,” Faith invited. “I will send for tea.”

 
There was a moment as the twins glanced at each other and somehow communicated in that way that siblings sometimes had. As an only child, he had no recourse to understand such things, and felt on the outside. Then, Faith threw him a marvelous smile and nothing could have made him happier. It was a simple thing, and he realized that he was perfectly aware of which twin was which. Hope would never have smiled at him like that.

  As they waited for the tea, Titherington looked from one to the other and considered that he knew Faith from the walks on the road, and Hope from the time at the ball. He revealed quite proudly that he could tell the twins apart, but they did not believe him. He sought to prove himself. Surely a lady he wished to court would not want him to be unable to discern her from her sister. Slowly, the cloud that seemed over them earlier lifted as they settled into the conversation.

  “We are a pair; everyone says so,” Hope declared.

  That was true. He remembered a number of people at the ball referring to the two ladies as a matched set, as if they did not have their own personalities. They did look alike, but they were not alike, and he said so. “Even now, dressed so similarly,” he noted. “I can tell which twin is which.”

  Faith threw a glance at her sister, and Hope grinned. She knew exactly what they were going to do. They were going to have some fun. Faith sat forward in her chair and picked up her teacup with elaborate care, just as Hope would do. She took a delicate sip, and watched as Hope slouched a little in her own chair.

  “We are one and the same,” Faith replied.

  “Regardless to our attire,” Hope added.

  Faith nearly giggled aloud, but that would have outed her as Faith. Hope was ever in control and rarely had outbursts.

  Titherington studied them. Faith could see that although he thought he knew which was which, now he was confused and uncertain.

  “There are none outside our family that can tell us apart. There is no shame in it.” Faith continued. “You shan’t notice a difference between us.”

  “I think you are mistaken, Miss…” He squinted his eyes in a show of figuring out which was which, but he guessed correctly. “Miss Faith. Moreso, from what I know of you, I think you enjoy such playacting.”

  Faith froze. Did Titherington suspect she was Emerson? He was too observant by half. She dare not look at her twin, but she could feel Hope’s eyes on her.

  “Did your sister not tell you that I already discerned the difference, and that you, Miss Faith, declined to attend the ball last week? I saw none of the impetuous miss I met on the road.”

  “Truly?” Faith said throwing Hope a glance. Her sister has said none of this, but she had not told Hope about Titherington’s kiss in the lane, and she felt guilty about that. They shared everything. Of course, most of Faith’s week had been spent sleeping off the ague that plagued her. The rest of the time had been spent worrying about Mercy, who was at last returned. They had spoken little about the ball except for Hope to rejoice that it was over, and Faith reminded her that they still did not have their books; but now they did. She smiled in spite of herself. At last she would show Hope the printed pages.

  “You are not so alike as you think, not to a careful observer,” Titherington continued. “Your elder sister said that you are both lively and spirited, though your thoughts and interests are distinct.”

  Mr. Titherington narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a long while as if in deep thought. “I am fairly certain that I could tell you apart on any occasion so long as I am given the opportunity to observe your behaviors.”

  “Is that so?” Faith said with disbelief, trying to approximate her sister’s cool drawl.

  “Yes,” he laughed and shook his head. “Your sister is friendly and encouraging, even flirtatious at times.”

  Faith threw her sister a scowl. Why would the man say she was flirtatious? Flirtatious? Hope? Surely not.

  “Although her affection can turn to ice at a moment’s notice.”

  That sounded more like Hope.

  “But you, on the other hand, have a bit more fire to you, a more ready scowl…”

  Faith wiped the expression from her face and Titherington continued. “And a more ready smile.”

  “That is because Faith approves of you,” Hope replied.

  Faith sighed. Now, she had told Mr. Titherington which was which for certain. Previously, he could only guess although he had guessed correctly.

  “And you do not?” he asked Hope.

  “You know that I do not,” she said in confirmation. “You are a rake and a philanderer, Sir.”

  “You wound me, Miss Hope.” He said teasingly, though his voice was tinged with a touch of true regret.

  “You know it is so.”

  “Ah, because of our moment on the veranda…”

  Now Faith truly glared at her sister. To what moment was he referring?

  “It was nothing,” Hope said.

  “Forgive my forwardness, Miss Hope,” Oscar entreated laying a hand over his heart. “I meant no offense.”

  “It was nothing,” Hope said decidedly. “The gentleman was mistaken,” she explained.

  There was a moment of cool silence. Then, Faith turned to Titherington with a slight smile. “Will you be so good as to get the books from your carriage?”

  “Of course,” he said solicitously.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Faith turned to her sister. “What happened at the ball?” she hissed.

  “Nothing,” Hope said again, but Faith persisted. “If you must know,” Hope said. “He tried to kiss me.”

  Faith opened her mouth to answer, but Titherington was returning

  Titherington brought the box to the veranda just as the footman arrived to clear away the tea.

  Her books, she thought.

  Faith reached for the box.

  “Shouldn’t your cousin open it?” Titherington asked, and Faith pulled back as if burned.

  “We are just eager to read them,” Hope explained. “Do take the box into the house,” she told the footman.

  “Yes,” Faith said looking after it.

  “I shall take my leave of you, then,” Titherington said standing and taking Faith’s hand. “If you hear from your cousin, please tell him I hope to see him in London soon. I suppose I may find him if I stop by your brother’s lodgings.”

  Faith stared at Titherington. The whole point of his staying for tea had been missed. He still wanted to go to London. Worse, he wanted to talk to Isaac about Emerson.

  “Mr. Emerson will be home soon,” Faith said quickly. “The trouble with Mercy has past. Isaac only remains in London to tie up certain legal matters. Even now, our cousin may be on his way back. I shall tell him you wished to speak with him.”

  “I am happy to hear you sister is well.” Titherington said brightly. “I have no siblings myself, and to see how each of you cares for one another warms my heart.” Hope threw Faith look as if she did not believe the man had a heart, but Titherington continued. “I shall speak to Emerson upon his return. Then, perhaps we will travel to London together to speak to Mr. Maddox.”

  Faith let go the breath she was holding. “That is sweet of you, Mr. Titherington, but well above what simple courtesy calls for.”

  “It is not simple courtesy, Miss Faith. Surely, you know I have a fondness for you. I know you did not want to be seen with me on the lane, but now, I hope you have changed your mind. I tell you, I am a reformed man. If I help with this business with your cousin’s play, surely your brother cannot refuse my request to court you.”

  “Good evening, Miss Hope, Miss Faith.” He bowed smartly to each and took his leave.

  Titherington had barely disappeared around the corner of the lane when Hope rounded on her sister.

  “Why would you tell him Emerson is coming back? He is never coming back!”

  “Mr. Titherington was going to travel to London. Would you rather he meet with Isaac and ask about our nonexistent cousin?”

  “We could have said that Mr
. Emerson went reclusive, writing his next novel. Then sent a note telling him of Mr. Emerson’s tragic demise.”

  “What?” Faith said, stunned. “You can’t kill him off. He’s not a character in a book. He’s me.”

  “No Faith. He is a character you invented. He is not you. You are a woman. He is a man.”

  “You can’t just stop this mid-stream. You agreed, Hope. You agreed. Or are you ready to give up on everything because you are scared?”

  “I’m not,” Hope said.

  “You are. You wish to quit. It never meant as much to you as it did to me. I have only the written word, just the novels and maybe plays. You have your friends, your tea parties with Lady Torsford and Lady Ainsworth. Go on then. Have a tea party. Pander to ladies who will never accept you or see you as anything more than the bloody baggage. “

  “There’s no need to swear. Hush now. Mother will hear you.”

  “I don’t care. I will not hush, Hope. Not anymore. We were trapped here with Father and now that he’s dead, it is supposed to be better, but we are still trapped. We are trapped by our very sex. You know what I saw as Emerson? Men listened when I spoke, truly listened. There’s a whole world out there, denied us because we are women. I want that world.”

  “What do you think you would do? Go gallivanting about London with Oscar Titherington?”

  “I might.”

  “He is a cad and a rake. You can’t trust him.”

  “You barely know him.”

  “I know he stank of brandy when he tried to kiss me at the ball. I slapped his face for it. He seemed to think you would have been more amenable.”

  That took the air from Faith’s argument.

  “He kissed you?” Faith had a sick feeling in her stomach.

  “Tried,” Hope corrected. “Then, he implied you would have let him take such liberties. I very nearly called the man a liar. I said my sister would never do so. Now I am not so sure. I am not sure I know you at all. You kissed the man, didn’t you?”

 

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