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

by Isabella Thorne

  “That is a tall cross to bear,” Faith observed. “Are you up to it?”

  Mr. Titherington nodded and shot her a devilish grin. “Without a doubt. I was never one to shirk a challenge. So tell me true, how shall I get your fair cousin to relent?” Titherington asked. “Tell me, and I shall do it.”

  Faith considered. It was a strange question to be asked directly. What could the man do to win her favor? How could she answer?

  “You must convince her of your sincerity; that your feelings are for her alone.”

  Titherington nodded. “Will you help me? Tell me what to say.”

  “Me?”

  “You are the writer, after all.” Titherington said. “What I should say to her? What will open her heart?”

  Faith was uncertain. Surely she could not coach the man on how to win a lady, even if that lady was herself. “Come now, Titherington. I dare say. Surely you know this task better than I. You are vastly more experienced in romantic endeavor.”

  Titherington raised an eyebrow. “In seduction perhaps, not romance. No Emerson. I was never much interested in opening a woman’s heart,” he said. “I was always much more interested in opening her bedchamber door. I have no expertise in romance.”

  Faith hesitated. He had aroused passion in her. Perhaps he was right. He had no experience in honest discourse. He was being honest now, though not with her, only with Emerson. How could she believe him? “I think I should not trust you…with my cousin,” she said.

  “Oh please, Emerson. I am changed man, I promise you.”

  “I do not see it.”

  “Then I shall have to prove it to you.”

  Faith was uncertain. He seemed so earnest. He did not have reason to lie. He did not know she was actually Faith. Still, how could she help him to win her heart when she did not want her heart to be won? She reminded herself that she did not want a husband, but the man seemed so in need of a friend. She understood how that felt. The Baggingtons had always been isolated. She wondered how she would have survived without her twin and the rest of her family. In fact, she was severely feeling the loss of Hope’s companionship now. She, too, was in need of a friend.

  That was all that she would cultivate: friendship. She would be honest. Emerson would lay down the particulars of his cousin without prejudice. No man would allow her what she desired. Eventually, Titherington would see her peculiarities, and they would part ways. Still, her heart beat fast at the thought, and she wondered if she could walk this narrow line. Yes, she thought. She thought him handsome. She may even have some fondness, but not enough to give up her writing. That she would not allow.

  “Very well, then,” Faith said at last.

  “Right then. Now that I am let in on this secret place of yours,” he said, “might I be permitted to visit?”

  Faith requested. “I do not wish be disturbed when I am working. I must court my muse.”

  “I shall leave you to it,” Oscar said as he took one last look around the place. “Tomorrow then?”

  “Do you not have some lady you should be pursuing?” She asked.

  “I am engaged in the endeavor,” Titherington insisted. “First I must convince her cousin to speak for me.”

  Faith sighed. “Oh, very well.”

  Titherington smiled broadly “I pray you, tell Miss Faith I have found no other woman to compare with her. I ache for her to accept me.”

  Faith stood and stared at the man while she toyed with the edges of her journal. Could he be telling the truth? What reason had he to lie to Emerson?

  “Please be sure your cousin receives my message,” he said, and Faith nodded.

  “Consider it done,” she promised.

  19

  The following day Oscar returned to the barn and found Mr. Emerson again speaking his words aloud. This time, Titherington was not so quick to interrupt. He watched Emerson flit from one side of the barn to the other brandishing a wooden sword while speaking to a non-existent foe. He stopped several times and scribbled in his book and then went back to the swordplay. Titherington decided that this looked like great fun and jumped into the middle of things brandishing his walking stick like a sword and for a moment Emerson continued his dialogue. Then he paused.

  “Do you think the fight happens too quickly?” he asked Titherington.

  “Definitely not,” Oscar answered. “If a villain held captive a woman I loved I would not hesitate.”

  Emerson nodded and made a note in his journal, a book that looked surprisingly like the one that Miss Faith had lost on the road when he first met the woman.

  Emerson wrote for several minutes pausing and then writing again. Oscar did not interrupt. After all the man did say he had to work, and he would not disturb his muse. He sat running his hand idly across the walking stick from one side to the other and turning it in his hands.

  Finally, Emerson looked up from his writing.

  “Why do you carry that cane when you are obviously sound of limb? It is a most intriguing object,” she added, lest he be offended.

  “It was a gift from my grandfather,” he said. “He was worried that I would come afoul of highwaymen in my travels. Ah, see here,” he said, twisting the foxlike head of the thing and releasing the catch. In his hand was a wicked looking dagger.

  Faith shook her head. “You know, if you frequented better establishments, you would have no need of such a thing,” she said.

  He laughed. “So said my grandfather, but rest assured, Emerson. I shall only take you to the best of clubs, if that is your worry. Agree to join me in London and we shall engage a spree.”

  She shook her head. “Perhaps another time. I an otherwise engaged at the moment.”

  “Then by all means continue,” Oscar said, taking a step nearer. He picked up his cane and twirled it in his hands in a most debonair way.

  Faith continued to dress as Mr. Emerson in case Mr. Titherington returned to the storehouse. The thought of meeting him again made her heart flutter in the most distracting way. He had made himself known at some point during the last three days, and she began to quite look forward to his visits. It was only because she valued a second opinion about her writing she told herself. Without Hope to discuss ideas with she needed a second voice.

  Titherington was quite apt at the work. He had a good notion about theater and often suggested a bit more action. Faith thought his ideas rather enhanced her work. Still, Oscar Titherington was not the sort of gentleman with whom a lady ought to have more than a passing acquaintance; certainly he was not the type for which one should develop heartfelt feelings. She would do to keep that thought at the forefront of her mind. Still, she could not convince herself to forego the pleasure of his company for nothing more than the blind adherence to what was right and proper. He was her friend, or Emerson’s friend, even if there could be nothing else between them.

  When Faith arrived at storehouse, she had barely started work when she heard Titherington call, “Ho!”

  “I am here,” she called back and descended from the loft to welcome him. Mr. Titherington carried a wicker picnic basket. “I thought I would bring a bit of a snack,” he said. “You cannot be getting enough nourishment out here. You are going to waste away. You are skinny as a rail.”

  Faith raised an eyebrow. Did he truly think she was too thin, or was it only because he thought she was small for a man? “Oh, Thomas would not let me starve,” she said of the Baggington’s butler.

  “I know,” Titherington said. “But, I sent my man over to the Nettleford Arms kitchen.” He began pulling a veritable feast from the basket: bread and cheese and a whole roasted chicken along with a jug of wine and cherry tarts.

  Faith laughed and sat with him. “What army were you planning on feeding?” she asked.

  “You, Emerson. You look like you need a good meal. Anyway, all work, and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” he said.

  “Do you think I am dull?” The thought gave her pause.

  “Only a bit,” he said
stretching out on the floorboards of the loft with a chicken leg in his hand.

  Faith felt compelled to nibble some too, but Titherington ate heartily.

  “I received a reply from Jonathan Maddox,” he said around a mouthful of cheese. “I sent him one of your books.”

  “You had no right,” Faith said upset at his forwardness. “I gave that copy to you. It was not meant to be bartered about London.”

  “I know,” he said, “but he wants to see you and speak of turning the book into a play. Now, you must come to London with me. No more dodging.” He raised a finger before her face.

  “I cannot,” she began.

  “I understand your reticence if it is for lack of funds, but that is what patrons are for. I’d like a few more books to send to several gentlemen in London who are supporters of the arts. It will do your work good to make the rounds. What say you?”

  Faith stood and paced. “I don’t know,” she said. She had not planned for this to happen and did not know how to stop the whirlwind that was Mr. Titherington.

  “You think on it,” he said picking up another hunk of bread. He followed it with a swig of wine and passed her the bottle.

  She took a gingerly sip.

  As they had eaten they talked…mostly about Faith herself. Titherington was still determined to get to know Faith better. Ironically, she was learning about him too. She could dismiss Oscar Titherington when she thought him merely handsome. She now saw that he was also charming, witty, and rather clever. The knowledge made him harder to forget.

  Titherington’s plan to win her over was working better than even he realized. “You must speak well of me,” Oscar said. “Miss Faith thinks me a rogue and rightly so, but if you are a friend to me, Emerson, you must plead my case. She captivates my thoughts, the complete opposite of the ladies that I am used to interacting with,” he said as he sucked a peppermint candy between his teeth. Faith had learned the man had a fondness for the sweet treats. They were the reason he always smelled pleasantly of peppermint.

  “How can you say that? You barely know her.”

  “What little I do know enthralls me. From a distance she appeared quiet, shy, and not at all forward. In fact, I might even call her backward when it came to her interactions with gentlemen. She did not giggle and twitter. She held her laughs to herself, only releasing them in sudden eruption when she was truly amused. She was full of a great determination and energy although she did everything in her power to suppress such unladylike tendencies. Upon closer examination one may see the fire and vigor that bubble beneath the surface.” He laughed at the thought. “I would love to see her set free,” he told Emerson.

  Set her free? Faith shook her head. He did not mean that. “You would not,” Faith argued.

  “I would. I wish to know more of her. Come now, Emerson you are relation to the Baggingtons. What secrets have you discovered that I have not?” Titherington teased. “Do tell.”

  Faith hesitated. Her family had more secrets than he would care to know, both terrible and benign. Most were not hers to share save the most obvious: that the lady of his affection sat before him. That she would not say.

  “I… That is to say Faith is…” Faith cleared her throat and tried again, reminding herself that she was Emerson. “Faith is much like Cassondra. She is full of life. She cannot be toyed with. She is not just a woman. She is a person with her own thoughts and feelings. Her own passions.”

  Titherington chuckled and leaned back on the old chaise that the twins had often used to nap at the barn. To see him so made her heart beat fast. He had said that the abandoned storehouse was perfect for a tryst, and now she could see it. She was here with Titherington, he quite the rake, and what was she to be thinking so? She shook herself from the thought.

  “Ah, to find a woman like Cassondra,” Titherington mused. “Pity she is only a figment of your oh so vivid imagination, Emerson.”

  “I think you would find Cassondra overbearing and unladylike. She would embarrass you in polite company. There would be gossip.”

  “Oh no. There would be an adventure.” He sat up with a twinkle in his eye.

  Faith raised an eyebrow.

  “Truly, you should know; I care nothing for the words of gossips. They wag their tongues all day and night and say nothing at all. Believe me; I have long attempted to run them out of new things to say about me.”

  “You are proud of the fact,” Faith said with astonishment.

  “I am. A woman like Cassondra would indeed liven things up, would she not?” His eyes danced as he continued. “You know, all I have is adventure, Emerson, I have no family of my own, save my grandfather. After he passes who shall stand with me? Since Edgar married, I barely have any friends.”

  “Thank you,” Faith said dryly.

  “Emerson, if you are my friend, then come to London with me,” he said. “I will introduce you at my club. We will go to the theater. Meet Mr. Maddox in person. It will be a lark.”

  Faith bit her lip. She would love to travel to London, but she could not simply run off with Oscar Titherington. “I would rather stay here,” she replied, although that was an untruth.

  “I do not believe you. A man who has such a fertile imagination cannot relish life the country.”

  “I do. I enjoy the quiet to write.” That, at least, was true.

  “Do you not long to travel? To see the places you have only read about in books?”

  Faith would like that more than anything. In all her life she had never been beyond the banks of the Nettlerush River. “I have not even done much reading lately,” she confessed. “Isaac is repairing the library and I did not want to be an imposition. I have steered clear.”

  Titherington wagged a finger under her nose. “That is a crime for a writer. Reading is your stock in trade. I have some books at the cottage. Well, few enough, but once we have finished those we might even venture into that shop in town.”

  “I should not.”

  “Oh for pity’s sake! It is Upper Nettlefold, not London. Ballocks, man. You are the recluse.”

  “Titherington,” she tilted her head to the side and gave him a warning glance, but she really couldn’t censure his language when he thought she was a man.

  He held up a hand to stop her protestation. “Very well. Stay here. I have made plans in town this week anyway.”

  The thought of him not being here filled her with sorrow. “What sort of plans?” Faith asked in disbelief. She realized she had developed an attachment. She knew she should let the man go, but she could not. She hoped he would at least continue their conversations. If she could not have him as Faith, she could at least befriend him as Arthur Emerson. She felt a pang of unease with the thought that his plans were of the feminine persuasion. The Nettlefold townsfolk had seen him with Mary-Elizabeth. It was a wonder he had spent so much time here with Faith already, or rather with Emerson.

  “Not to worry,” he said, taking a step nearer. “I have kept the early hours unhindered so that we might still meet for a short while each day. I am anxious to see how Cassondra fares.” He said as he twirled his walking stick in his hands.

  Faith’s face broke out into a grin, despite her best attempts to conceal it. “I find that most suitable,” she replied with as little overt excitement as possible. Still she had to ask. “Is it a woman?”

  He shook his head. “There is no lady for me other than your beautiful cousin,” he said.

  “Not Mary-Elizabeth?”

  Oscar guffawed. “Perish the thought, though she thinks otherwise. No. I feel nothing for Mary-Elizabeth but the love of a brother for a sister. You do know that Baron Torsford and I were at Oxford together? He is as close to a brother as I may have at the moment, and therefore, his sister is also mine, the little scamp.”

  Faith nodded.

  “No. I have taken your advice.”

  “What advice?” Faith asked confused.

  “To prove myself a changed man.” Oscar explained. “I already though
t to improve my reputation in town, and I have made strides to do so. Caroline, the Baroness of Torsford, has a lengthy list of charitable deeds that she wishes to complete but is unable to do so because she is too involved with her young son at the moment. Rather, she accepted the offer of my services and at the suggestion that I take on a few tasks, she very nearly filled my calendar for the next three weeks,” He finished dryly.

  Faith laughed. “Serves you right,” she said.

  “So you see?” Oscar said happily. “Once Isaac returns I shall convince the man that I am an upstanding gentleman, worthy of his fine sister. I should like to take the whole Baggington clan as my own. What do you think, Emerson? Shall I be your cousin?” He slapped Faith heartily on the back.

  “What a thought,” Faith said. She paused.

  “What is it?” Titherington asked. She realized that he had begun to read the expressions on her face.

  “So that is your reason for marriage, then? You desire a family?”

  “It is as good as any, isn’t it?”

  “What about…” began Faith, but she ground to a halt, biting her lip.

  “What?” Oscar asked.

  “What about love?” She said in a strangely soft voice.

  “Love…” Titherington cleared his throat nervously. “Well, love is a feminine notion.”

  “Yes,” Faith said. “And it is the heart of a lady you are attempting to win. Is it not?”

  “Yes, but Isaac…” the man began, but Faith interrupted.

  “No. Not Isaac. It is the lady you must convince.”

  Oscar considered and then shook his head. “I know that, but it is Isaac who will be difficult. He is so upright, I do not believe he will even let me state my case.”

  “That is possible,” Faith said.

  “But once I have his approval, I believe the lady will be easily convinced.”

  Faith raised an eyebrow. “You believe her heart so easily won? I do not it think so. The lady has said that she will not marry.”

  Titherington shook his head disbelieving. “Every woman wishes to marry.”