The hope in his voice and the light in his eyes made her heart squeeze as a sudden warmth rushed right through her.
“You would like to walk with me again, Lord Yeatman?” She knew the moment that she said those words that it had been a foolish thing to ask, given the way that his eyebrows lifted, but her surprise was so great, she could not help it. “Even after everything that happened today?”
“Yes, of course.” Lord Yeatman’s voice was warm and wrapped around her in gentle comfort. “Despitewhat happened today, Miss Fairley, I should very much like to spend more time in your company.” He tilted his head a little closer to her. “I do not think you clumsy or ungainly or the like. I do not believe for a moment that you are responsible for such things. Therefore, Miss Fairley, I should very much like to become better acquainted because, while I do have an eagerness to be of aid to you, and I certainly want to make sure that you are not treated unfairly, there is a genuine interest within my heart.” He smiled. “Does that please you?”
Emma could hardly find the words to speak, given how much joy had suddenly flooded her. She nodded, her throat constricting.
“Yes, Lord Yeatman. I… I confess that I am quite delighted by it.”
“Good.” With a smile, he reached across and patted her hand as it sat on his arm. “But I shall still be watching you at any soirees and balls and the like, Miss Fairley. You need not doubt that.” He glanced at her. “Are you to attend one this evening?”
Emma nodded.
“Yes. Lord Shuttleworth’s ball.”
“Then I shall be present there this evening,” he said, firmly. “And you can be sure that if anything untoward happens, I shall be fully aware of it.”
“You look very lovelythis evening, Emma.”
Emma blinked in surprise as her mother came to stand beside her.
“Mama?”
They had only just entered the ballroom, and Emma had fully expected her mother and sister to distance themselves from her almost immediately. Instead, Lady Follet had lingered, now tilting her head to regard Emma a little more.
“Yes, very lovely,” she said, as though she needed to confirm that to herself. “I do not know what it is you have done, but there is a fresh beauty to you this evening.”
“I quite agree, Lady Follet.”
Emma, caught by surprise by the low voice behind her, started in surprise only to see Lord Wellbridge coming to stand by her mother and sister. He was wearing a broad smile and Lady Follet immediately laughed, though Martha did not so much as blink, as her adoring gaze was fixed upon the gentleman.
“Good evening to you,” he said, inclining his head to each of them in turn. “How fortunate I am to have found you so soon upon arriving at the ball! I must beg for your dance cards, of course.”
Martha quickly pulled hers from her wrist and handed it to the gentleman though Lord Wellbridge then looked to Emma with clear expectation written on his face.
Emma blinked.
“You… you wish to dance with me?” she stammered, her face growing hot. “Are you quite certain?”
“But of course! Why should I not?”
“Oh, Lord Wellbridge!” Martha put one hand on the gentleman’s arm, shaking her head lightly as she looked up at him. “Surely you cannot have forgotten what happened the last time you stood up with my sister? She has decided to stay back from dancing precisely because of that reason!”
The heat in Emma’s face intensified, spreading down through her chest and she lowered her head, not able to look at either her sister or the gentleman.
“Ah, but what sort of gentleman would I be without forgiving and forgetting – and giving second chances?” Lord Wellbridge laughed, making Emma lift her head in surprise, seeing the very same astonishment etched across her sister and mother’s faces. “Come, Miss Fairley, I think it would only be fair for me to give you another opportunity.”
“Well…” Seeing her mother’s eyes flare and uncertain whether it meant that her mother wished her to accept or reject Lord Wellbridge’s offer, Emma took the dance card from her wrist. “Very well, Lord Wellbridge. I thank you.”
Martha shot her a dark look, but Emma could say nothing to her. Both her mother and her sister had expected her to refuse, but Emma had chosen to accept – surely anything else would be rude. Evidently, that had been the wrong decision.
“Wonderful. Then the country dance, Miss Fairley.” Lord Wellbridge smiled and then handed Emma back her dance card. Emma took it with a murmur of thanks, though her stomach twisted with nervousness as she did so. “And the cotillion foryou, Miss Fairley.”
He handed Martha her dance card. Emma went to return her card to her wrist, but another voice stopped her.
“Might I also sign your dance card?”
The voice in her ear made Emma yelp with surprise, only to see Lord Yeatman smiling at her.
