“Forgive me,” she mumbled, as Emma frowned. “I – I found myself a little jealous. The words slipped from my mouth before I could think of what I was saying.”
Instantly, the upset left Emma and she let out a slow breath, shaking her head and turning away from her sister.
“I am not at all interested in pursuing any sort of connection with Lord Wellbridge,” she said, softly. “I thought you would have understood that, Martha. I want very much for you to be happy.”
Her sister reached out one hand and took Emma’s, shaking her head as she did so.
“I am terribly sorry. I did not mean to say such things. My heart is a little pained, given that last Season, we appeared to be so very near to courtship, and yet nothing came of it.”
“I am sure something will happen this Season,” Emma replied, as their mother nodded fervently. “And if not, then there will be many other gentlemen who want your attention. You will be betrothed by the end of the Season, I am sure of it!”
Her sister gave her a rather watery smile and all of Emma’s angst disappeared in an instant, seeing just how upset Martha was. Thus far, Martha had said nothing about Lord Wellbridge to her, and Emma had not had any real understanding of just how sorrowful her sister had been over the gentleman. They were not particularly close as sisters, and Emma found herself regretting that.
“You can be assured of my support,” she murmured, as their mother smiled and then beckoned them to walk forward so they might, no doubt, find someone else to talk with and have their dance cards signed. “You can trust me for that, I assure you.”
Martha nodded, sniffing lightly, but lifting her chin to keep her expression gentle.
“I thank you, Emma. That does mean a great deal to me.”
“But of course.”
With a smile, Emma slipped her arm through her sister’s and together, they followed their mother.
“Thank you for the dance,Miss Fairley.”
Emma managed a smile, her heart slamming hard into her chest repeatedly, given that she had only just finished her dance with Lord Gibson.
“I thank you for it, Lord Gibson. It was most enjoyable.”
He offered his arm and Emma took it at once, finding herself flooded with relief that she had been able to dance not only with Lord Gibson but also, prior to that, with Lord Wellbridge, and had done so without falling, slipping, bumping into anyone, or stamping on anyone’s toes. All had gone very well indeed, and she was beginning to believe that this Season might now be a good deal better than the previous one.
“Let me return you to your mother, who I see waiting there.”
Lord Gibson gestured to her, and Emma smiled, catching her mother’s eye for a moment. Lady Follet looked very pleased indeed which, to Emma’s mind, meant that she was delighted with how the evening was going. That gave her more hope, believing that perhaps her mother would be a little more interested in helping her to find a match as well as her sister.
“My Lord, my Lady?”
Emma and Lord Gibson paused as a footman held out a tray for them. Upon it were both glasses of wine and smaller glasses of brandy and Emma, though she would much have preferred to have a glass of water given how hot and thirsty she was after dancing, thought to take a glass of wine. Lord Gibson took aglass of brandy and then released Emma’s arm so that she might take a drink also.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching for a glass of wine. No sooner had her fingers touched the glass than the footman’s arm jerked, as though, somehow, she had startled him. To her horror, she saw the tray tip forward, the glasses beginning to slide and tip towards the edge – and without knowing what she was doing, Emma reached to steady the footman, trying to catch his arm, trying to stop the glasses from falling to the ground.
She did not succeed.
With horror, she saw the glasses fall from the edge of the tray and then fall directly to the floor. The sound of smashing glass reverberated around the room and though she hurried to step back, liquid from both the wine and the brandy splashed onto her gown and the boots and breeches of Lord Gibson.
The silence that followed made Emma’s stomach twist with a sudden fright, dread filling her as she realized that the nightmare which she had dreaded had once more taken hold. She had no idea of how the tray had fallen but yet, every eye was fixed upon her as though she were the one responsible. Her chest grew tight, her breathing quickening as Lord Gibson took a step back from her.
“Whatever happened?” Lady Follet rushed towards her as murmuring began to rush around the room, though everyone still looked at her, with many whispering behind their hands. “What did you do, Emma?”
“I – I did nothing!” Emma protested, aware that her words sounded weak. “It was not my doing. All I did was reach out and take the glass of wine and then the tray fell.”
The footman who had dropped the tray was already attempting to pick up some of the glass and was quickly joined by other servants who began to do the same. Heat ran through her as she turned away, stammering an apology to Lord Gibsonwho, after only a moment, nodded and then turned on his heel, leaving her alone with her mother.
“I did not do this,” Emma whispered, though her mother closed her eyes tight, her face rather white. “Mama, I did not! I–”
“I will send for the carriage to take you home,” her mother interrupted, opening her eyes, reaching out, and catching Emma’s hand before beginning to pull her away. “There is nothing else for it.”
“But what about Martha?” Emma protested, suddenly worried that her sister would suffer for her mistakes. “She ought not to be pulled away.”
