The Lady to Match a Rogue: Faith

by Thorne, Isabella

  “Faith has gone ahead.”

  “Truly?” Jesse asked confused. “Have you had words?”

  “Not as such,” Hope replied. “She is vexed with me that I took so long with my toilet and decided to ride with Mother and Isaac. You know Faith. She would attend a ball in a day dress with not a care for how gauche such a thing would be.” Hope tossed her curls and glanced nervously towards her sister’s hiding place, but Jesse accepted the excuse. He handed Hope up into the carriage and entered himself. In a moment the door was shut and the carriage under way.

  Faith darted from the bushes and rushed toward the moving carriage, leaping on the footboard at the rear of the carriage where footmen rode to attend their betters at the end of the ride. Luckily, the Baron Torsford’s Estate was near enough they would not be staying the night, and as such brought no servants other than the driver. Thus, no one hindered her. Faith did hope that her leap on the back of the carriage did not cause too much of a stir, but no one seemed to notice. At least, the carriage did not stop. She was on her way.

  * * *

  10

  Oscar had chosen his place along the far wall for the sole purpose that would give him an excellent vantage point from which to view all who entered the room. That had been before the bustling crowd had filled the room to near bursting. Edgar and his wife were off to greet their guests upon arrival, leaving Oscar to keep the company of the baron’s mother and sisters. Never once had he intended to be left to the attentions of Miss Mary-Elizabeth Charleston and her simpering siblings. He could feel that they had already made up their mind about him. As far as the younger ladies were concerned he was purchased and parceled. Mary-Elizabeth had staked her claim.

  “It is a shame that such a fine evening must be fraught with chill,” the bold miss said in her tenth attempt to catch him in conversation. It was true that the evening air had a bite to it hinting that they might soon be on the receiving end of a spring storm. He said as much, but no more. Still, Mary-Elizabeth continued. “How I do hate to be bound to the ballroom when the gardens are such a pleasure for walking.”

  The last place that he wanted to find himself was alone in the darkness of the gardens with the persistent lady. No doubt she would expect him to drape his jacket over her shoulders after she proclaimed the chill. “Such is the way of the weather,” he replied without taking his eyes away from the crowd scanning for a trim brunette whose head might not be seen above most of those present.

  “Then you must visit again in the summer,” Mary-Elizabeth tried once more. “In the very heat of it, when the country is at its best.”

  “I have already accepted an invitation from the baron, of that you are aware,” he grumbled.

  “Yes, but I am to be in Bath,” she pouted.

  Miss Mary-Elizabeth would be quite perturbed to learn that Oscar had chosen the timing of his visit particularly for the reason that she was to be away in Bath.

  “Oscar, for whom are you searching?” she asked. She craned her neck as if to see what it was that he was after, but found nothing of interest. With a satisfied grin she moved to stand in front of him, blocking his view, for Miss Charleston was nearly as tall as he. She only seemed pleased now that he had been forced to lower his gaze and give her his full attention. “It is a shame that you know so few of the notable people here in Nettlefold,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “You shall be forced to stick to your circle and dance with us three all evening. Perhaps with my new sister as well, if she can manage such activity so soon.” It was apparent that Mary-Elizabeth was not at all disappointed with her estimation of the situation.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “I know enough to make my acquaintance about the room. In fact, there are several families that I intend to make it my purpose to come to know by the end of the evening. A gentleman, my grandfather always says, can never have too many contacts.”

  This mentality was quite the opposite of anything that Miss Charleston had ever heard from Oscar. In the past, he had not often cared for making new acquaintances. He had been happy and set with the circle of Oxford companions and a few true friends. Still, the young lady could not argue with his logic, especially if she hoped him to succeed upon acceptance of his inheritance. In her mind, such friendships might come to her own benefit as well if she were to be so fortunate as to marry the gentleman.

  “I pray that you should still make room to dance with me,” she feigned sadness with a telltale flutter of her dramatic eyes.

  “Darling!” her mother, who had only just turned to listen, released a sharp intake of breath. “Such forward comments are uncouth. A gentleman should ask a lady if he wills it, not the other way around.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Mary-Elizabeth had the decency to look abashed.

  “Though, it would be a terrible slight to your brother if his friend did not request the pleasure,” the Dowager offered as her last bit of advice before she turned back to group of friends with whom she had been gossiping.

  Miss Mary-Elizabeth did nothing to hide the victorious grin that covered her face. It was almost a sneer and Oscar found the look disturbing. He again considered whether he should speak to Edgar about his sister’s forward manner and then dismissed the idea. He was not one to squelch freedom. Still, he was forced to listen to the same sort of nonsense until the music had struck. Then, with the intention of getting the duty out of the way, as well as securing a better method of observation of the room, he asked the petulant miss to dance. Miss Charleston grinned like a fool the entire way to their spot on the floor. It was only when she observed his look of annoyance that she decided to change her tactic. At once, her face turned coy, as if she hoped that a little mystery and seduction might hearken his interest.

  “What skill you have at the dance,” she observed. “It has been several years since I have been allowed the pleasure. What a shame that Mama has kept us apart for so long. Though, I must say, she seems much more inclined as of late to think well of you.”

  Oscar wanted to roll his eyes in frustration. He had forgotten what a bore the average lady could be and it made him wish all the more for the one who would never cease to hold his interest. Miss Baggington had never stooped to such tactics, had never had any need to, since she was fascinating in her own right. He wanted to tell Miss Charleston this sort of behavior would not net her the sort of gentleman that she desired, but that was a lesson that she would have to learn on her own.

  Though the dance had temporarily freed him of the obligation to Mary-Elizabeth, he had yet to lay eyes upon his Miss Baggington; or any of the Baggingtons, for that matter. He continued to scan the room for any of the lady’s multiple family members so that he might seek her out through their proxy.

  * * *

  Faith clung to the rear rail, aware that she would have to jump off just before the carriage arrived, and then walk to the door. She hoped that her too big shoes would not trip her. The ride was not far, and since the way was wooded, the driver kept the horses at a slow trot. Faith worried about departing the carriage. Getting onto the thing had not been difficult, but she could not be sure that the stable lads at the Torsford Estate would not see her depart. She knew she could count on Hope to shield her from Jesse, although her brother would probably think the whole thing was a lark if he did find out their scheme. He had more of a sense of humor than Isaac.

  Still, as she bounced along the wooded path, the seriousness of this endeavor finally struck her. This was no lark. If they were found out it would be ruination for the both of them. The driver slowed the carriage as they approached their destination. Faith took a deep breath as the carriage came to the last bend in the road just before the Torsford residence and she launched herself to the ground. She hurried to blend with a crowd of gentlemen who had just departed from their own carriage as they entered the ball room.

  Subtlety was key. The thing about being one of a pair of identical twins was the ability to slip from the room unnoticed for a moment of privacy and then return with n
one the wiser. So long as her sister’s face was present in the room, there were few that could recall with whom they had been conversing: Faith or Hope. Faith had always found it ridiculous especially when she and her sister made no attempt to dress alike. One would only need to know that there was one sister in red and one in blue to keep them straight. She had found that there are few enough who cared to put in even that much effort. They only marveled at the twin’s similarity. If people really looked, they would see differences. Most days it bothered Faith, but tonight it was all for the better. She could disappear altogether into the guise of Mr. Arthur Emerson. She might only have stepped out into the gardens and no one would notice anything amiss. Of course she might be scolded by her brothers later in the evening, for disappearing but none of her family would make a scene until they had returned the privacy of the manor.

  Her eyes darted here and there trying to be sure that she stayed out of sight of their brother Isaac. Their mother may not see anything amiss, but Isaac certainly would. With a start, she realized she must also avoid her sisters, Mercy, Prudence and Temperance, all of whom were at the ball. She did not think that Jesse or Simon would be a problem.

  “I shall keep Isaac in my sights,” promised Hope as she fell in alongside Faith, whispering out of the corner of her mouth. “You, get the books. The more quickly we can do this the better.”

  Faith nodded, but paused as she spotted Oscar Titherington looking their way. Her heart fell. She could not speak with him as she was and if he spoke to Hope their plan would surely be spoilt. She had not told Hope that she was acquainted with Mr. Titherington.

  Suddenly Faith felt that arriving at the Torsford’s was the least of their problems. She felt ridiculous and exposed standing here in a pair of trousers, her modest bust bound flat, with false side burns pasted to her face. She had thought such a ruse would be perfect for her to obtain the books and return home. Now, she was not so sure she could accomplish it. Her heart was beating a fast tattoo and she felt she might be sick. This was nothing like playacting in the storehouse.

  * * *

  Oscar Titherington stood with the Baron Torsford as the host greeted his guests, but Oscar’s attention was already on the lady who had followed just a few minutes behind her brother. Miss Baggington had not yet turned her attention from a pair of gentlemen who were asking a myriad of questions, but he knew her. She was the lady he had met on the lane several times. She had refused to give her name, but surely she would not be so shy in company.

  She was escorted by a short man who fussed nervously with his cuffs as he looked about the room. The man caught his eye, and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before the man looked away. Did he know the gentleman? There was something familiar about the slight man, but Oscar could not be bothered with the puzzle when the lady he awaited was here. He turned his attention back to the woman across the room. He could tell from the tension in her posture that she was calculating the best way to extricate herself from the gentlemen who had gathered around her. The thought made him smile. Perhaps, she waited for him.

  The baron asked for his input on a matter of business, but Titherington did not respond immediately. He could not take his eyes from the lady. He had never seen her so animated. She was striking. “I’m sorry,” he said turning back to the baron. “You were saying?”

  The baron laughed. “I should let you go. I remember the days of finding a new lady each night. You will soon see that having only one lady can be a much more of an adventure.”

  “I do not see how that is so,” Titherington replied, but then his eye went back to Miss Baggington. Perhaps the baron was right.

  She stood with her brothers, and their watchful eyes measured the slew of gentlemen who were fawning over their sisters. Oscar felt a momentary pang of jealousy before he reassured himself that he had already stolen her kiss and was fairly certain that Miss Baggington would accept his suit. At least, he hoped she would accept him.

  She would never be one to admit such a thing so readily. It was up to him to show her the sincerity of his intentions, and he fully intended to do so.

  Miss Baggington smiled with enough kindness as to be proper at the new faces that surrounded her, but Oscar was pleased to note that it was not her true smile. This smile was hesitant and uncertain. The Miss Baggington he knew would have thrown her head back in laughter when she allowed her barriers to fall away, but perhaps she was reticent in a crowd. In all their meetings in public he had never seen her behave with the freedom that she had when they were alone. Her brilliant vitality and laughter was a prize more valuable than gold.

  The prospect of dancing with her had driven him mad all week, and he was determined to draw her to the floor no less than twice, gossips be damned. Her neck was exposed, as was a small hint of her bosom. Not enough to be showy, but enough to drive a gentleman to distraction. He forced his gaze away and turned instead to Lady Torsford who had recently recovered from the birth of her son and promised a viewing of the little heir to a select member of the company. She looked at Oscar. Her tongue-in-cheek expression told him that he was doing a poor job of not revealing his fascination with the Viscount Mortel’s sister. He would need to do better, lest Isaac take it upon himself to curb Oscar. It would do well to remain in her brother’s good graces. He would need the gentlemen’s approval, after all. Isaac could not know they had met before on the road and spoken though not introduced. Such a meeting was most improper.

  Oscar had learned that Lord Mortel was a pillar of morality. In fact, he was staunch enough to hate his own father for his wicked ways, though Oscar did not know the particulars of the late man’s offense. He knew only that the Mortel Manor was now being run with crisp efficiency, and it seemed that the new viscount never stepped out of line; save to garner what was right and just. He was not the type of gentleman who would look well on Oscar’s muddied past. Miss Baggington had never said as much, but he was fairly certain that it was one of her primary concerns about being seen with him. He could only hope that her brother could be made to see reason in time.

  He wanted more than anything to show the lady that he had changed and that their romance could work; that their match could be well received. Just as his reformation had been slow going, so too would their courtship. He was prepared for that challenge.

  “Go on with you then,” the baron said laughing, “or would you like me to do the introductions?”

  “That would be grand,” Titherington said.

  “If you come across Mr. Arthur Emerson, you must point him to me. Mrs. Pears at the bookshop said he was a cousin of the Baggingtons.”

  “I shall,” Titherington said. “As soon as I find the gentleman, I shall introduce you at once.”

  With that, Mr. Titherington, with Baron Torsford began to work his way towards the vision in white silk. It made her shine like a radiant star among those of lesser beauty.

  Lady Torsford, not to be dissuaded, stuck to her husband’s side in an effort to meet the lady for herself. Oscar recalled that she had already had a fascination, and protective instinct, toward the Baggingtons. She would be amused to discover that it was a lady of that family who had captured his interest, and his heart.

  “You are joking, are you not?” Caroline grabbed Oscar by the arm before they began their way across the room to the quaint family.

  He shrugged and shook his head.

  “You, of all people, choose the meekest most gentile family in all the neighborhood from which to attempt to coax a daughter into matrimony?” She laughed so hard that tears spilled from her eyes. Oscar did not find the concept amusing. “I had wondered why the lady did not wish to be seen with you! Now it makes perfect sense. The Baggington daughters are cautious of scandal. The family associates with hardly anyone, let alone someone with a mar to his name.”

  “Take it easy on him, Caroline,” her husband scolded without conviction. “The poor fellow is well aware that she ought to pitch him. He is hoping for a moment of insanity on the l
ady’s part.”

  “Insanity it shall be, Mr. Titherington,” said Lady Torsford with a chuckle.

  * * *

  11

  Faith moved to the refreshment table in the hopes of finding the Baron Torsford and acquiring her books, but she did not see the man. Still, a small drink of punch or bite of cheese would not be amiss. She had not eaten before the event, with all there was to do with her manly disguise, and now, her stomach roiled with hunger and nervousness. She had not thought this ruse would be so nerve wracking. She scanned the crowd looking for the baron as well as members of her family. She needed to be aware of their placement so that she could avoid them, especially Isaac. As she was walking, she barreled directly into a random lady. Faith was quick to apologize. She steadied the lady and thought the girl looked familiar. Faith realized she was one of Mary-Elizabeth’s friends. Emily, she thought. They had met at the baroness’ tea. The woman’s name was on the tip of her tongue, but Emily spoke first saving Faith from embarrassment. “Sir! We are not introduced!”

  Sir, Faith reminded herself. She was not in her own visage. She knew these niceties, but she was used to being on the female side of them. She made her apologies and tried to excuse herself, but the lady smacked her with her fan and dressed her down for speaking at all. Faith had thought the woman had a sour attitude, but now she proved it. Still, Faith put forth her best face, and gave as gallant a bow as she could manage. “I am truly sorry,” she said, affecting a deeper tone of voice, and excused herself when she saw the baron across the way. Perhaps this could be done quickly.

  She realized that as a gentleman, she did not need an introduction to another gentleman. She could just put out her hand and introduce herself to the Baron Torsford. She would do so. She would retrieve the books and this farce would be done. She took a long purposeful stride and was half way to the baron when she realized that Isaac was in the group of gentlemen with whom he and his wife were conversing.