“It is averyfine day,” one of the other young ladies said, though Frederick could not quite recall her name. “Though I am a little surprised to see you without a parasol, Miss Fairley!”
Frederick looked quickly at Miss Emma Fairley, but she did not react in the least. It was then that he realized that the young lady had been speaking to the elder Miss Fairley, for she responded with a laugh and gave some response – but Frederick could not take his eyes from Miss Emma Fairley instead. She had not even flinched, had not even lifted her gaze to see if shewasbeing spoken to. Instead, as a wallflower, she was well used to being ignored and, much to his sorrow, obviously expected it. How much he despised seeing the way that thetonignored her! It was not as though she had been involved in any sort of scandal and ought, therefore, to be given the cut direct! She had done nothing worthy of their disapproval. His chest filled with a tight, hot anger, and Frederick let out a slow breath in an attempt to keep his features settled in this otherwise calm expression.
“Perhaps we should take our leave, Miss Fairley?” he suggested, turning a little more towards her, keeping his voice low. “What say you?”
The look of relief she gave him was more of an answer than she could have expressed with words. With a nod, Frederick began to turn away, murmuring a word of excuse, only for someone to speak his name.
“Lord Yeatman?”
Frederick turned back.
“Yes, Lady Sophia?” he asked, seeing the young lady’s eyes flick to Miss Fairley and then back towards him.
“You are leaving us?” she asked, her eyes still darting from him to Miss Fairley and then back again. “So soon?”
“Yes.” Seeing no reason not to be honest, Frederick smiled and lifted his chin. “I am enjoying my walk with Miss Fairley and though the conversation and company have been very enjoyable, I would much prefer to continue it. Do excuse us.”
“It is time for us to depart also,” Lady Pleasance added, throwing a quick smile at Frederick. “Do excuse us.”
Lady Sophia cleared her throat as most of the others in the group began to take their leave also, forcing Frederick’s attention back towards her.
“But are you not one of the wealthiest Viscounts in England?” she asked her question so astonishing Frederick that his eyes rounded and his whole body tensed. “Why, then, would you walk with a wallflower?”
The shock of that question sent a cold flurry rushing over Frederick’s frame and he shuddered violently, his mind whirring with all manner of thoughts. He could not quite believe that the lady had the audacity to ask such a thing, and his only relief was that so many of the gentlemen and ladies had already taken their leave - not many were left to hear her question. Lady Sophia, in her arrogance, merely lifted an eyebrow and offered him a tight smile.
Frederick’s heart exploded with anger, and he took a step closer.
“Lady Sophia, it is no one’s business who I walk with, nor should I expect anyone to comment on what I choose to do and who I choose to spend time with. I–”
What sounded like a stifled scream caught his attention and Frederick whirled around, hurrying forward only to see Miss Fairley picking herself up from the ground. He rushed to her, aiding her as she stood up straight, only to see tears begin to drip onto her cheeks.
“I am so ashamed,” she whispered, her eyes closing as she leaned into him. “Forgive me, Lord Yeatman. I have embarrassed you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Emma did not know what had happened. One moment she had been walking slowly away from the group back towards the path and the next, surrounded by those who had been a part of the group, she had found herself on the ground.
Her knees stung, her palms ached and no doubt, her gown was ruined. The strong arms that helped her up and the whispered words of concern in her ear were something of a balm, but her injuries were more than just outward.
“I am so ashamed,” she whispered, finding herself leaning into the strength that Lord Yeatman provided. “Forgive me, Lord Yeatman. I have embarrassed you.”
“Embarrassedme?” Lord Yeatman’s arm was around her shoulders now and though Emma was vastly appreciative of his comfort, she could not bring herself to look into his eyes. “You have done nothing of the sort. Are you quite all right?”
Emma dared a glance down at her gown and, much to her surprise and relief, there did not appear to be any real damage. Yes, there were a few marks and stains from where she had fallen, but there were no rips or tears. That was a good thing, at least. Her gloves, however, had not fared as well.
“Oh dear.” Wincing, she pulled them off carefully, seeing the tears which would have to be repaired. Either that or they would need to be replaced entirely. Her palms were very red indeed, but there were no cuts or scrapes to be seen.
“I shall replace them for you.” Lord Yeatman took them from her without a word and then placed them in his pocket before returning his attention fully to her. “Can you walk?”
She nodded.
“Where are your mother and sister?”
Finally able to lift her head, Emma looked all around but could not see them. What shedidsee, however, was two of the ladies looking back at her, with one whispering behind her hand to her companion, who then turned to look directly at Emma without even a momentary hesitation. She closed her eyes and dropped her head, mortified that such a thing had happened yet again.
“I see them.” Lord Yeatman took her hand and set it on his arm. “There they are, just ahead of us.”
Emma swallowed sudden, threatening tears, and walked alongside Lord Yeatman, doing her best not to look at any of the other lingering gentlemen or ladies.
