Free The Spinster & The Coquette by Caylen McQueen

lovely.”
    “Well… I… you…” Hester was temporarily tongue-tied. She was unaccustomed to receiving compliments of any sort, especially ones that sounded so sincere. When she finally recovered her wits, she repeated, “You are very kind.”
    “I… admire you. I’ve always admired you.” Frank reached for her, and boldly rested his hand on top of hers. “Very much.”
    As Hester stared at his hand, she felt the strangest sensation. Blood rushed into her head, her heart raced, and she momentarily struggled to catch a breath. Why would such a simple touch make her so unsettled? “I… admire you as well.” When she felt his fingers caressing hers, she wanted to pull her hand away. She should have pulled her hand away. But she enjoyed the sensation so much, it was impossible to deny herself the pleasure of it.
    “I care for you,” Frank continued. “Very much.”
    “As a sister, surely.” Hester’s words were accompanied by a nervous chuckle. “And a much older sister, at that.”
    “Not as a sister,” he corrected her. “And more than that.”
    As Hester slid her hand out from under his, she immediately lamented the loss of his touch—and yet it was necessary to put distance between them. As her pulse thumped wildly in her neck, she rose from the bed and quickly retreated to the door. The moment was painfully awkward and perplexing, and she needed to be alone. “Good night, Frank. Sleep well.”
    “Good night, Hester. I hope to see you tomorrow… well rested, and in considerably better spirits.”
    Without another word, Hester exited and headed to the room she shared with Cordelia. As she traveled down the hall, she closed her eyes and tried to hold the image of Frank’s face in her mind as long as she could. In particular, her mind’s eye lingered on his lips.
    At what point did she start wondering what it would be like to kiss him? When did her foolish heart decide it was acceptable to have so much affection for him?
    “Madness…” Hester quietly chided herself. “Utter madness.”

Chapter Nine

    It was an overwhelming revelation. Hester never imagined she would have feelings for him, of all people—how could she allow it to happen? She should have loved him like a brother, if anything. Her attachment to Frank was absolutely illogical in every possible way. He was more of a boy than a man, and she had no business feeling that sort of affection for him. And yet, ever since she woke, she ached for his company.
    Hester tried very hard to make excuses for herself. Frank had been kinder to her than any man ever had—how could she not feel affection for him? And even if he was young, he seemed very mature for his age, and had likely endured more hardship than she could possibly imagine. But did his maturity make her feelings any less absurd?
    “Perhaps…” Hester stared into the looking glass, whispering to her reflection. “Perhaps I do not care for him as much as I believe I do? Perhaps I… perhaps I was desperate to feel something for someone after the disappointment I suffered with Mr. Hargrave?”
    It was senseless to deny how she felt. Ever since Frank’s hand held hers, he had invaded her every thought.
    She thought she heard Frank thumping down the hall with his walking sticks, and for a moment, Hester forgot to breathe. His footsteps halted in front of her door, as if he considered knocking, before he finally moved on. It was noon, and she had been anticipating crossing paths with him since she woke. Determined not to let him escape, Hester ran to the door and flung it open.
    “Frank!” She was so eager to see him, her voice squeaked when she shouted his name.
    “Good afternoon, Hester,” Frank greeted her as calmly and cordially as he could. He had to pretend he wasn’t hovering outside her door, dying to knock, desperate to see her again. “You look lovely. The curls framing your cheeks are very fetching.”
    Hester had taken a bit more time to style her hair, but she