The Spinster & The Coquette

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The Spinster & The Coquette Page 7

by Caylen McQueen


  “I… ohh.” Hester’s words died in her throat when his hand gently caressed her cheek. Then he cupped her neck, gently drawing her toward him. When his mouth brushed hers, Hester felt her lips tingle. Frank’s lips were light and soft, and though the kiss was brief, her heart was racing out of control.

  “And now…” Frank used his walking sticks to hoist himself from the bench. “Let us continue our adventure in kissing behind the tree. Shall we?”

  “Indeed.” Hester played along. She rose from the bench and joined him behind a bulky oak. Before she could utter another word, Frank crushed his lips against hers. Their second kiss was deeper than the first, and he wove his fingers through her hair as his mouth devoured hers. This time, Hester’s entire body was overcome with tingles, from the top of her scalp to the tips of her toes. When Frank’s lips departed, and Hester opened her eyes, she saw his boyish face and was momentarily reminded of her madness. How could she allow herself to fall for him?

  And then he kissed her a third time, and the madness was forgotten. How could she deny herself the pleasure of his lips? How could his advances be anything but wonderful when his kisses filled her with so much joy?

  “Now…” Frank lifted one of the curls that framed her face and twirled it between his fingers. “I believe our next destination was the kitchen?”

  “You really want to kiss me in the kitchen?” Hester’s hands flew to her hips. “Someone might see us!”

  “And if they do?”

  “Maisie might be in there!”

  “I am sure the sight of us kissing would not be too traumatizing for her.”

  Frank set off in the direction of the cottage, and Hester followed, albeit with some reluctance. To her relief, there was no one in the kitchen. Frank stood in front of her, his eyes burning into hers. A moment later, his lips were on hers again. Frank was tall, so Hester rose to the tips of her tingling toes to facilitate the kiss. His thumb gently traced her collarbone, which made her heart thunderous. This kiss, deeper than the rest, left her breathless and dizzy. When his lips left hers, Hester’s face was red and her eyelids fluttered.

  “That was…” Hester drew a deep breath as she struggled to speak. “Quite enjoyable.”

  “I couldn’t possibly agree with you more.” Frank ran a forefinger along Hester’s cheekbone, which made her skin prickle delightfully. “Where should I kiss you next? Your nose?” Frank leaned down, gently brushing his mouth across Hester’s tiny nose. “Your hand?” He raised her hand and kissed it several times. “Or your forehead, perhaps?” He lightly kissed the top of her head.

  “You tease me.”

  “It is such a joy to tease you.”

  “It is such a joy to be with you,” Hester said, and she coiled her arms around him, holding him tight. She squeezed him with all her might, and with such fervor it was as if she never intended to let go of him. “I always want to be with you.”

  “And I always want to be with you,” Frank softly replied. His whispered words made her entire body shiver.

  “I want to be close to you,” Hester said. “Is it wrong to want to be close to you? To care for you?”

  “Why would it be wrong? I care for you too.” Frank kissed her yet again—this time, on the crown of her head. “I don’t think it should ever be wrong to enjoy someone.”

  “Perhaps I have enjoyed you.. a bit too much.” Hester closed her eyes as she recalled the feeling of his lips on hers. “Am I mad?”

  Frank ignored her question. Instead, he said, “I should have seen it all along.”

  “Hm?”

  “You,” Frank whispered. “You should have been the one I wanted from the start. How did I not see it? You, Hester Waverly… you were meant for me.” He gently tapped her on the nose. “You bring out the best in me. You’ve been a friend to me, and more. You make me feel like I’m something better than I am.”

  “And you make me feel… mad.” Hester took a step away from him and dragged her hands down her arms, as if brushing him off. “I know I’ve gone mad.”

  Frank’s brow was pinched with concern. “Why do you say that?”

  “We mustn’t do this again. We mustn’t speak of it. We must pretend as if it never happened!” Hester crossed her arms and hurried to the door. “Now… I really must go. Good day, Mr. Boswell.”

  “Mr. Boswell?” he shrieked. “You’re calling me Mr. Boswell?”

  But Hester fled before he could demand an explanation.

  Chapter Ten

  Hester had spent the last hour at the milliner with Cordelia—which, according to her sister, was an entirely necessary waste of life. Apparently, accepting Mr. Snowley’s proposal required a new hat, and Cordelia refused to be happy until she had seen and considered every variety of lace. Hester, however, had seen enough. After an hour of discussing flounce and fripperies, she decided to step outside for a bit of fresh air. She strolled to the end of an uncrowded street in search of some distraction from her unwelcome thoughts. She could not vanquish Frank—and yesterday’s kisses—from her mind. Thoughts of his lips consumed her.

  Cordelia had no idea how complicated her sister’s life had become. And it was about to get even more complicated. As soon as Hester reached the end of the street, she saw Cecil Hargrave heading in her direction. Mr. Hargrave’s handsome face was easily the last sight she wanted to see. His presence only added to her inner turmoil.

  “Ah… Miss Waverly!” His greeting was strangely jovial, considering the fact that he had tried very hard to avoid her at the last social gathering. “How very pleasant to see you again. You are well, I hope?”

  “Quite well,” she lied. In truth, Hester could not remember the last time she had felt so troubled. Her mind was determined to dwell on her confusing feelings for Frank, and her failed resistance against his many charms. She could not allow herself to fall for him, could she? He was much younger than her, and he deserved so much more.

  “You appear a bit distracted,” Mr. Hargrave observed.

  “Not at all,” she lied again.

  “Did you read my book of poetry?”

  “A bit.” It was yet another lie. She hadn’t so much as glanced at the book ever since he handed it to her.

  “Do you have a favorite poem?”

  “It… um…” He had her at an impasse. Not only was she completely hopeless, having never read the book, but her thoughts kept wandering to Frank. Hester felt so restless without him by her side. She wished he would suddenly appear and set her mind at ease.

  As it happened, Hester’s wish was granted. Behind Mr. Hargrave, she saw something completely unexpected. A hackney halted not far from the milliner’s, and the most unlikely person alighted from its interior. She saw his walking sticks descending first, and then he appeared behind them. Frank—a confirmed recluse—had ventured into town.

  “The poems, Miss Waverly? Do you like one in particular?” Mr. Hargrave was insisting on an answer. “Or perhaps you did not read them after all?” He saw her peering behind him, which made him expel a tremendous sigh. “You are distracted, are you not? I am starting to feel as if you might be a bit angry with me. Have I done something to offend you?”

  Hester was too stunned by Frank’s arrival to give Mr. Hargrave a proper answer—or any answer at all. Without a word, she sidestepped him and hurried to meet Frank in front of the milliner’s. Gobsmacked by Hester’s behavior, Cecil threw up his arms in defeat, snorted derisively, and set off in the opposite direction.

  “Frank!” Hester called out to him as she approached. He flashed such an adorable smile in her direction, she felt her knees weaken at the sight of it. “I am… a bit surprised to see you here.”

  “As you should be.” As Frank limped toward her, he noticed he was drawing stares from a nearby couple. He knew he was likely the subject of their silent ridicule, but he did not care. Only Hester mattered. “I have not ventured beyond the cottage in at least two years.”

  Hester’s eyes swelled. “Are you serious?”
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  “Very serious. Did I not tell you I was a recluse? It was no mere exaggeration. When I think about facing the prying eyes of the outside world, I am filled with trepidation.” Frank pulled a small daffodil from the pocket of his greatcoat and held it out to her. As Hester accepted the gift, she noticed he looked a bit more polished than usual. His hair was combed, his maroon greatcoat was a cut above anything she had seen him wear, and even his boots were shining. “But I needed to speak to you, Hester… and for you, I would face the world.”

  “You could have waited until Cordelia and I returned,” Hester said. “We might have been gone another hour or so, but you know we would have returned!”

  “I didn’t want to wait. Furthermore, I thought it would give me an opportunity to prove my resolve.” When he saw her caressing her daffodil’s petals, his heart fluttered oddly. “I had to see you now, Hester. I have been dying to speak to you since I woke this morning. I have been extremely eager to see you ever since you turned your back on me yesterday.”

  “I am… sorry.” Hester’s heart pounded vigorously beneath her chest. She eyed the milliner’s and wondered when Cordelia would emerge. What would her sister think if she saw her with Frank—if she knew they kissed? She would judge her. The entire world would judge her. To the rest of the world, she would be seen as a hopeless old maid who had allowed herself to fall for a much younger man.

  “I know you asked me not to speak about what happened yesterday, but I cannot ignore it. You can’t ask me to ignore it, not when you gave me the most incredible moments of my life.” Carefully balanced on his walking sticks, Frank reached toward her, tucking a lock of hair behind Hester’s ear. “I want to kiss you again and again, and many times more than that. I want to spend every moment with you. I need to be near you.”

  “Frank… you…” Hester felt her lips trembling, so she sucked her lower lip into her mouth and took a moment to compose herself. After several seconds, she spoke again. “You are barely more than a child!”

  “But I am not a child,” he corrected her. “And you are hardly as old as you think you are. If we make each other happy, why should we not be together? Unless, of course, I am mistaken… and you don’t think you could ever be happy with me?”

  “No…” In the corner of her eye, Hester saw Mr. Hargrave at the end of the street, watching them. “I believe you could make me very happy. I… I have lived much longer than you, and yet… when we kissed, I knew I had never felt so much joy in all my life.”

  “So why must we endure this self-imposed separation? Why should we not enjoy the company of one another? Why must we invent excuses when it would be much easier to allow ourselves some happiness?” Frank held her hand and continued. “Do you know what I’ve always admired about you, Hester? You never cared that I was an invalid. Unlike your sister, you never made me feel inadequate or imperfect. You never turned up your nose at me, or judged me, or made feel like a flawed person. You were so kind, Hester. Always kind.” Frank’s gaze dropped to the ground, to his polished boots and slightly crooked ankles. “But… perhaps it is too much to hope you could overlook these infirmities in a potential husband? I know I am not good enough for you.”

  “Oh, Frank!” Hester took his face between her hands. “I never thought that! And I most certainly never think of you as a flawed person! In fact, I think you are absolutely perfect… far too perfect for the likes of me! I am… old. And plain. You are young and handsome and you deserve someone much better than me!”

  Frank gently laid a finger against her lips, silencing her. “There is no one better than you, Hester.” He moved his hand away from her mouth, but she did not speak. She saw tears in his eyes, and they suppressed any words she might have uttered. “You are the one who is perfect, and I should have loved you from the moment I saw you, because you are the one who fills my life with immeasurable happiness. At first, you were a very dear friend to me, but now you are everything to me. You make me feel like a man… like a man who is worthy of love. I doubt that you could ever love me, but I do love you, Hester. I do. With all of my heart, I do. ”

  Before she knew it, the words flew from her lips—and they were surprisingly easy to say. “I love you too.”

  A single tear slipped from his cheek. “Then let me cherish you,” he whispered. “Let yourself be happy. Let me love you, Hester. Let us be married one day, and never be parted again.”

  “I wish we were alone… because I am dying to hold you in my arms,” Hester said. The sight of his tear-stained cheek wrenched her heart so forcefully, Hester found it difficult to catch a breath. She wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and shower him with affection. “And you are worthy of love. I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel worthy of it. No one deserves to be loved more than you.”

  Frank wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. In the distance, Mr. Hargrave continued to spy on them, but Hester paid little attention to him.

  “I adore you, Hester.” Frank pressed his lips against her forehead and whispered against her skin. “I love you more than I ever thought possible. No one could ever love you more.”

  Hester could no longer restrain herself. Ever since the moment he appeared before her—a reformed recluse, sincerely expressing his love—she had been resisting the temptation to kiss him. At long last, her self-restraint was lost. Hester coiled her fingers through his hair, pulled him toward her, and kissed his lips as passionately as she could.

  At that very moment, Cordelia exited the milliner’s with three very large hat boxes in her hands. When she saw her sister locking lips with Frank, she dropped the hat boxes in a puddle, which was left from the previous night’s rain. If not for her shock, she might have squealed over her ruined hats, but all she could focus on was Hester. And Frank? How was that possible?

  When Hester’s mouth left Frank’s, and she saw her sister hovering behind them, she wondered what Cordelia would think. Would she think her elder sister had gone mad? Would she judge her?

  For once, Hester did not worry about what her sister would think. She knew her life with Frank would be a long and happy one.

 

 

 


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