Making to step closer to him, though the floor was now very busy with ladies and gentlemen stepping this way and that,Emma let herself smile, relieved that all had gone well – only for something to jab in her side. Letting out a loud cry of pain, she spun around in search of whatever it was, only for the same pain to stab at her other side. Another cry broke from her lips but with all of the gentlemen and ladies passing her, she had no notion as to either what was happening, or who it was that had done such a thing to her. Aching spread up her sides and Emma gasped for air, her eyes flicking left and right as she saw the other ladies and gentlemen glancing at her, though many quickly began to whisper together. Emma’s face flamed, though the pain within her still blossomed, and she struggled to even lift one foot from the floor. Soon, she realized, she would be the only one left standing alone in the center of the ballroom.
“Miss Fairley!” Lord Yeatman grasped her hand at once and put it on his arm, though his eyes were searching her face, worry etched there. “Whatever has happened?”
“I – I do not know.”
“You have gone very pale indeed.” Lord Yeatman leaned a little closer to her. “Can you walk?”
“I can, so long as I can lean on you.”
“Of course.” Lord Yeatman began to walk slowly, and Emma went with him, her hand clutching at his arm, a dull pain still running right through her. It eased as she walked and soon, Emma was able to breathe without too much difficulty.
“I am all right,” she said, looking up at Lord Yeatman again, seeing him frown still. “I am sorry for what happened. I did not mean to shriek in that way.”
“What happened?” The low tone of his voice and the way his eyes held shadows made her breath hitch. “Whatever happened, it was done by someone else, was it not?”
She nodded, her heart suddenly sinking low.
“It is the first time I have ever really, truly realized that there is someone determined to make me embarrass myself. I cannot understand why.”
“Nor can I,” Lord Yeatman answered, though his eyebrows lifted just a little. “Might I ask what happened?”
“Something sharp pressed into my side.” Having reached the safety of the back of the ballroom, Emma caught Miss Simmons standing close by and beckoned to her. “And when I turned to see what it was, it caught me again on the other side.”
Miss Simmons drew close.
“I heard you cry out,” she said, reaching out to take Emma’s hand. “Are you quite well?”
Quickly, Emma explained what had happened.
“There was pain down either side of me, though it has lessened in its intensity now.”
“Good gracious.” Miss Simmons’ eyes flared. “Why would someone do such a thing?”
“To embarrass her.” Lord Yeatman rubbed one hand over his face, his expression very dark indeed. “It is clear now that whoever this was, they were determined to dosomethingto have you mortified in front of theton.”
“And they succeeded, yet again.” Emma closed her eyes briefly, just to keep a hold of her emotions. “I cried out so loudly that even Miss Simmons heard me!”
Miss Simmons squeezed her hand.
“But it was not your fault.”
Lord Yeatman let out a heavy breath.
“It is becoming a little more serious, Miss Fairley. Someone is seeking to injure you now rather than merely embarrass you. What was it that was pressed into your side in such a fashion?”
Emma paused, then shook her head.
“I do not know.”
“You will have to check your gown for any sign of damage,” Miss Simmons suggested, her eyes quickly darting to Lord Yeatman. “Though not here, of course. I–”
“I felt it pierce my skin,” Emma said quickly, sending her friend an apologetic look for the interruption. “Something small and sharp.”
The gasp that came from Lord Yeatman sent his eyes wide as he turned, grasped her hand, and squeezed it hard. She looked at him, uncomprehendingly, wondering at his astonished look.
“Could it be…?” Trailing off, he paused and then nodded as though he were confirming the idea to himself. “Could it be a hairpin?”
Emma’s heart slammed hard against her ribs, and she too snatched in a breath, her eyes rounding.
