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

by Isabella Thorne

  Titherington joined the Lord and Lady Torsford as they greeted the Baggingtons. The baroness had promised to facilitate his introduction to the family. Oscar had been introduced to the two elder sisters years ago; however, their last association was quite in the past. It would be polite to be reacquainted.

  He shook Lord Mortel’s hand firmly and hoped he made a good impression. Oscar was then introduced to Lord Mortel’s eldest sister Mrs. Temperance Crauford, her new husband, Evan Crauford, son of the Viscount Pepperton, as well as his sister, Miss Teresa Crauford. Isaac asked Teresa to dance, which left Temperance. Oscar wished to speak with the lady’s unmarried sister, but Miss Baggington was already on the dance floor, so Oscar determined that this was the perfect time to find out more about his mystery lady from Mrs. Crauford. He excused himself from the group and asked Mr. Crauford’s permission to dance with his wife. Mr. Crauford partnered Prudence. Her intended, the Baron Halthaven, was locked in an animated discussion with a group of military gentlemen.

  The dance moved the partners in pattern; apart and then back together again. Conversation was in snatches. “It is good to see you returned to Nettlefold,” he said to Mrs. Crauford. “How is your family?”

  “Thank you. I have not visited much with my family,” she said.

  When they rejoined he asked, “Are you enjoying the ball?”

  “I am.”

  They parted and circled together again and the conversation renewed. “Are all of your sisters here?” he asked.

  “Oh yes,” she answered eyes sparkling. “It is wonderful to visit on occasions like this.”

  They smiled and turned as the dance prescribed.

  “Do you not see your sisters often then?” he inquired. “That must be difficult if you are close.”

  “It is,” Mrs. Crauford said. “I spent so long away, I love visiting now. Making up for lost time, I suppose.”

  “I do not know your family well,” he said. “Would you tell me of your sisters?”

  “Well, you must know Prudence is engaged to be married. She and Baron Halthaven met not long after the death of her former husband, the late Lord Fondleton. Mercy, my middle sister has always been shy, but my two youngest sisters are still bubbling and bright. I am shocked no one has yet offered for them.”

  “I am sure someone might be on the verge…” he began, but was interrupted with the change of partners.

  “Are you fond of one of my sisters, Sir?” she inquired as they found one another again. “Pray which one?”

  “I am afraid I do not know her name,” he confessed. “We met, but were not introduced and she has been keeping her name from me.”

  Mrs. Crauford chuckled. “You are not the first to be tricked. The pair of them enjoys their games.”

  She followed Oscar’s gaze across the floor where his Miss Baggington twirled, a vision in white. “Well, that would be Hope.” She supplied.

  Oscar grinned at her, excited that at last he had the lady’s name. “Might I be introduced to her, properly? I have not yet spoken to your brother of my intention, so please, be discrete.”

  She tapped her lips. “Not a word,” she said as he bowed and she curtseyed and the dance ended. She promised to do the introductions forthwith. Oscar escorted her back to the ladies. Miss Hope had returned from her own dance, and her older sister caught her attention.

  “Hope, Mr. Oscar Titherington has begged an introduction.”

  The lady smiled brightly, but there was no recognition in her eyes. He shot her a piercing look. Perhaps, she was just being coy. She collected herself enough to offer her hand.

  “Miss Hope Baggington,” he said as he kissed her hand. “I have your name at last. It is a pleasure to see you again. I am sure I have never seen a more beautiful lady.”

  The lady’s eyes opened wide as he spoke. There was a question in her expression as she curtseyed

  Faith wondered at the flair of jealousy that came upon her as she watched Mr. Titherington hold her sister’s hand. He held it for quite some time, and Faith wanted to urge her sister to pull away from him. Faith felt sure that Mr. Titherington should know he was speaking to Hope and not herself, but of course that was the plan; that Hope play both parts. She should not feel upset that the ruse was working.

  Faith berated herself for not having realized that the gentleman would have received an invite. Of course he would. She had been raised outside of the realm of social practices and for that her ability to anticipate an event such as this was lacking. To make matters worse, it seemed that Hope was in no hurry to leave Mr. Titherington’s side. Faith did not know how to detach her sister from him without making a scene.

  Hope tossed her curls and gazed up at him.

  Titherington flashed that confident grin, the entire focus of his attention on her twin.

  Faith was seething, but there was nothing she could do. She reminded herself she must retrieve the books and return home, but a part of her balked at leaving Titherington with Hope. Before she left, she had to tell her sister to stop flirting with the man. Without a thought for her attire, she started towards her sister.

  She was nearly at Hope’s side when her elder sister Prudence approached from the dance floor. She was on the arm of Baron Torsford, while the baroness walked with Faith’s brother by marriage, Mr. Crauford. They were laughing at something the baron had said, and Faith moved to the outside of the little group. Faith tried to catch Hope’s eye, while attempting to find some way to separate the baron from her siblings so she could talk to him.

  “Where is Faith?” the baroness asked and Faith blanched at the sound of her name, before she realized the woman was not speaking to her.

  “Yes,” Prudence agreed. “I have not seen her all evening, Hope. Usually the pair of you are inseparable.”

  Faith turned away as if she were part of another group of gentlemen adjacent. She did not think Isaac would note her absence, but she had not counted on her elder sister’s observance. She could not of course answer since she was dressed as Mr. Emerson, and not Faith Baggington.

  Faith felt her mouth go dry, but Hope covered smoothly. “Faith did not feel well and wanted to take some air. I am sure she will be back shortly.”

  Faith edged away and hoped no one noticed. She slipped a napkin from the table and wrung it in her hands. She took a glass of wine from a passing servant’s tray. Perhaps it would calm her nerves. She watched Hope and Mr. Titherington over the rim of her glass. It was fortunate that Hope was all full of smiles and nods for those around them as she attempted to pretend that Mr. Titherington was not the complete focus of her attention. Luckily, Prudence and Mr. Crauford moved off to find Temperance and the others.

  With some maneuvering, Faith managed to situate herself near her sister and Titherington so that she could hear their conversation. She told herself that this was because she wanted to be ready when the baron moved to another party of guests.

  “You must save the waltz for me. Tell me you will not break my heart and give it to another.” Titherington said just as Faith had reached forward to take a calming drink from her glass. His words nearly had her choking on the drink, but she covered her startle as best she could. Titherington was not speaking to her, but to Hope, and the thought brought Faith a sharp pain. Why did it bother her so? She did not know. Still, she watched him from the corner of her eye.

  “Sir, the waltz? We have only just met. You are too forward, by far.” Hope said, and Oscar looked distressed but for a moment.

  “I do believe that we have met before,” Mr. Titherington began with a teasing tone.

  Faith nearly groaned. Hope knew nothing of their previous encounter. Oh, why did she not share the meeting with her sister? This was awful. She had to try to give Hope a hint that she had met the man, lest he reveal their ruse, and yet how could she tell that they had met so inappropriately along the wooded path?

  Faith cleared her throat and shot Hope a look. Usually they understood each other so well, they barely needed w
ords, but this evening the silent communication did not seem to work.

  Hope offered her sister a look of confusion and Faith reprimanded herself for drawing attention. Mr. Titherington was looking at her now. A frown creased his face. His sharp eyes were alert as she studied her. “Do I know you, Sir?”

  Faith’s heart dropped to her knees, but she could not afford to be found out now. She was a man, she reminded herself. She could do this. She did not need an introduction to another man.

  “Arthur Emerson, at your service,” Faith said firmly, lowering her voice and thrusting her hand forward. She took a step between her sister and Oscar Titherington.

  Mr. Titherington shook her hand and Faith was immediately and exceedingly aware of her lack of gloves. As he took her hand in his, bare flesh to bare flesh, she caught her breath. His hand was so strong and warm it nearly swallowed her own. He must know, she thought, and a giddy feeling filled her stomach. He would know she was false. His eyes were sharp as he met her gaze. Faith struggled to meet his eyes with a confident appearance. As a lady, she had been told to look down shyly, but she had no need to do so now. A man would look another man in the eye.

  Titherington’s face filled delight at her assumed name.

  “Mr. Emerson! Well met, sir,” Mr. Titherington said shaking Faith’s hand vigorously. “A writer of some renown in these parts. Marvelous, I must say.”

  “You have heard of me?” Faith said, surprised.

  “Yes. Yes, the baron has been telling everyone about your book.” He threw an arm over Faith’s shoulder and clapped her on the back. Faith reeled from the familiarity and the strength of it. She pulled herself upright as Titherington continued. “And you are some relation with this lovely lady?” He smiled at Hope, and Faith thought that smile should have been for her, but she could not make him aware of the fact, when it would draw attention to Faith’s absence.

  “My cousin,” Hope supplied, sticking with their original plan.

  Faith attempted to pull herself together. She was here to do a job. Get the books.

  “I have been looking for the Baron Torsford,” she said. “Is he a friend of yours?”

  “Oh yes, and I am sure he has been looking for you too,” Oscar exclaimed. “Imagine an author and playwright here in Nettlefold. It is a treat.”

  “I thank you.” Faith mumbled attempting vainly not to blush. Luckily her sideburns covered most of her cheeks.

  12

  Oscar was truly excited to meet Emerson. He turned back to the man and expressed the sentiment. “We were all anxious to meet you, Emerson. The baron most especially,” he said.

  “Yes, thank you,” the small man said again. “I would like to meet him as well.” Oscar noticed the young playwright was very soft spoken. That was a surprise considering the verve of his writing. All of his characters seemed to be boisterous and outgoing, just the opposite of the man beside him. “I believe the baron has my printed matter,” the gentleman said. “I should like to see the books, forthwith.”

  “Certainly,” Oscar said, but he now that he had secured a place at his lady’s side he was most reluctant to leave her. His very presence may warn off future suitors.

  Lady Torsford, the Dowager and Miss Mary-Elizabeth were coming their way, and although Titherington did not want to throw the Miss Baggington’s cousin to the she-wolf, he thought better the cousin than him. Oscar wished to dance the waltz with Hope and he had no desire to dance again with Mary-Elizabeth.

  “Ah, here is the lovely Lady Torsford,” Oscar said. “The baron’s wife.” He introduced Caroline to Emerson, with the plan to leave the man with the baroness and Mary-Elizabeth while he danced with Hope. “If you would deny me the waltz, my dear lady would you allow me the pleasure of the next set?”

  Hope stared at Oscar and then glanced at her brother who was also headed in their direction. It was clear to Oscar that she wished to say yes, but was afraid to do so. Here amongst her family she seemed an entirely different person than the woman he had met on the lane.

  “Yes,” she blurted quickly taking his arm, turning him away from her brother and nearly pulling him to the dance floor. Oscar paused realizing that the Viscount Mortel looked as though he wished to speak to his sister, and was annoyed with her avoidance. Oscar hoped to diffuse the situation.

  The lady hesitated, looking for all the world as if she wanted to sink into the ground at that very moment. Did his presence distress her so? What had the lady heard about his reputation? He patted her hand reassuringly.

  “Lord Mortel,” he addressed the Viscount. “With your leave, I would partner your sister in the garvotte.”

  The Viscount seemed to take an eternity to deliberate, staring at him with narrowed eyes. All the while Oscar felt sure that if her brother declined in this moment, the lady would take it as a declaration of their future and close herself off to him just when they were becoming acquainted. Finally, her brother gave a slow nod. Miss Baggington then turned to her cousin who also looked filled with relief.

  Oscar offered his arm and a gentlemanly nod, though he dared not say a word until they were out of earshot lest he revealed the depth of his emotion at her acceptance.

  Once Hope was firmly on his arm, Miss Mary-Elizabeth loudly declared she was without a partner and naturally claimed the next available bachelor: Mr. Emerson. Emerson looked as if he would refuse, and glanced nervously between his cousins.

  “Come along, then,” Miss Hope called over her shoulder to Emerson, who was still trying to work out a way to refuse Mary-Elizabeth. “They are about to begin.”

  The man looked doubtful, looking first to Hope and then to the viscount. Then Emerson drained his cup, as if for fortitude, sat the empty glass on the edge of a potted plant and followed.

  The dance was a disaster. It appeared that Mr. Emerson, although an excellent writer was beyond horrible as a dancer. Oscar was amazed that Mary-Elizabeth held on firm and did not stomp off the floor half way through the set. Mr. Emerson repeatedly walked the wrong way, trod on everyone’s toes, and twice Miss Hope nearly collided with him as she turned him around and pushed him in the opposite direction. It was remarkably funny and Miss Hope could barely contain her giggles. Oscar longed for her unrestrained laugh.

  Is this really happening, Faith thought as she inexpertly guided Mary-Elizabeth on the dance floor. Although Faith had wanted to dance with Mr. Titherington, she did not imagine this would be how their first dance would transpire. She shot a look at her twin who was grinning. Then Hope glanced at Isaac, and Faith thought, yes. At least they had avoided her brother by absconding to the dance floor, but at what price?

  Faith tried her very best to not look the fool. She knew how to dance, but in the man’s part all the steps were backwards. She was struggling to concentrate and mentally reverse the dance, so when Mary-Elizabeth tried to engage her in conversation, she snapped at her gruffly.

  The lady looked so taken aback that Faith almost felt sorry for her, but Hope smiled brightly. “We are trying to change our cousin’s attitude. He thinks only fictional women should have any fun.” Her eyes twinkled with mirth, and Faith missed another step landing heavily on Mary-Elizabeth’s foot.

  Faith apologized but, remembering how Mary-Elizabeth had treated her and Hope at the baroness’ tea, she trod on her toes a few more times just for good measure. Hope was giggling behind her gloved hand by the time the dance finished.

  “I am not much of a dancer,” Mr. Emerson explained as the dance mercifully completed.

  “An understatement,” Miss Mary-Elizabeth muttered under her breath, and then turned to Oscar ignoring Mr. Emerson entirely.

  Oscar turned her around. “Now, Miss Charleston,” Oscar chided. “Remember what the Lady Torsford said.” He raised an eyebrow reminding her to be kind.

  Mary-Elizabeth glared at him and then turned back to Emerson with as fake a smile as Faith had ever seen, before she excused herself and near stomped off the dance floor.

  Faith was glad to
be rid of her. She had spotted the baron across the hall as they were dancing and thought to work her way towards the man. “I am sorry I am such an awful dancer,” Faith apologized again. “I really only came for my books.”

  “You are friends with the baron are you not, Mr. Titherington?” Hope asked brightly. “Perhaps you could facilitate the introduction?”

  “Of course I shall,” Oscar volunteered at Miss Baggington’s request. “Although I am loath to leave your side, Miss Baggington.”

  “Then you must hurry back,” Hope replied, a blush about her cheeks.

  Faith threw a pointed look at her twin as Oscar led her away.

  “Emerson,” Oscar said clapping Faith on the back. “You have done me quite the service.”

  “How so?” She asked. Faith had lost sight of the baron again in the crowd, so she gave her full attention to Titherington. He was exceedingly handsome, she thought. She had to drag her eyes away from his full lips as he laughed.

  “Miss Charleston,” he explained. “I’ve been trying to discourage the lady for weeks, but you managed what I could not in a single set. I am quite sure she will never again try to wheedle a dance from you.”

  “I might leave her a cripple,” Faith said seriously, and Oscar burst into loud guffaws. Faith had the urge to shush him, but of course no one cared if a man laughed loudly. If a woman laughed so, all eyes would be upon her with censure. Still, Faith wanted nothing more than to remain beneath notice of all; well, except perhaps the notice of Mr. Oscar Titherington.

  Titherington gestured towards a waiter and took two brandies from the tray. Handing one to Faith, he took a large swallow. Faith followed suit. The liquor stole her breath and she found herself choking on the drink. Titherington slapped her on the back again to help her to get her breath. His hand was warm and large on her back, and eyes watering she looked up at him. He was so handsome when he grinned like that. There was pure joy in his eyes.