Emma’s smile fixed itself in place.
“My father?”
Something chinked and Emma looked up sharply, only to see Martha’s flushed face as she set down the teacup and saucer in front of Emma. Some tea had spilled into the saucer, which was something of a mishap – though Emma was not about to take her sister to task over it.
“Yes, I spoke to Lord Follet because I should very much like to court you, Miss Fairley.”
This time when he spoke, Lord Yeatman’s voice was a good deal louder as though he wanted everyone to hear him. Emma’s whole body suddenly flushed hot, then cold, and then hot again, her eyes fixed to his. Courtship? Lord Yeatman wished to courther? She knew that there was an interest there, a consideration yes, but courtship was a good deal more serious than that. It was a consideration of their future, a look towards engagement and marriage… and was that what he was offering her?
“You… you wish to court Emma?”
Emma turned her head, looking into her mother’s face, seeing the same wide-eyed, astonished expression as she was sure she was wearing.
“Yes, that is so.” Lord Yeatman smiled and spread his hands wide. “I am sorry that I must ask in such a fashion when everyone is together, but I found I could not wait.” Looking back at Emma, he sat a little further forward in his chair in clear expectation. “I should have waited to speak to you at the next social occasion we shared together, but my desire to ask you was a good deal too strong for me to hold back. Forgive me for that.”
“There is nothing to forgive.” Hearing the hoarseness of her voice, Emma clasped her hands tightly together, aware that she was shaking slightly. “Are you quite certain, Lord Yeatman?”
“That is a question that I should like to ask also.” Emma did not turn her head but found herself frowning at her sister’s sharp voice. Whatever was she doing in asking Lord Yeatman such a thing? “You are aware of her reputation, I presume?” Marthalaughed harshly, the sound ripping the joy away from Emma’s heart. “Why, you will have to be very cautious every time you step out with her! She may trip over her own feet, just as she did in the Park when you were out walking together.”
Emma closed her eyes, her shoulders rounding and her head dropping forward. She did not know what it was that her sister was attempting to achieve by saying such a thing but, all the same, it burned through her regardless.
“Martha, please!”
Much to Emma’s relief, her mother spoke up, silencing Martha.
“Do excuse us, Lord Wellbridge,” Lady Follet continued, as Emma shot the gentleman a quick look. “This is a little unexpected, so you must forgive our lack of decorum!”
Lord Wellbridge was frowning hard. His eyes were set on Lord Yeatman’s and were, in fact, a little narrow. Emma could not understand it, wondering perhaps if the gentleman was irritated that Lord Yeatman had interrupted the conversation that had been flowing between himself and Martha.
“Not at all. I can see that this is a surprising development… surprising for myself also.”
“Miss Fairley?”
Lord Yeatman’s voice was quiet now, catching her attention and pulling it back towards himself.
“Yes?” When she looked back into his eyes, it was as though the rest of the world had fallen away. It was only the two of them, only the soft, blue eyes searching hers as he smiled tenderly, perhaps already aware of the answer she would give.
“Would you accept my offer of courtship?” he asked, as Emma’s fingers tightened in her lap all the more. “I know it is a little unexpected but–”
“Yes, of course, I shall accept!”
Lord Yeatman beamed at her, and it took all of Emma’s inner strength not to get to her feet and hurry over to him as though, somehow, they might begin their courtship within this very room! The desire to be in his arms, though she had never been granted such a privilege before, was so strong, that it quite stole away her breath and Emma suddenly looked away, fearful that such a desire would be written into her expression.
“How wonderful!” Lady Follet clapped her hands, sounding genuinely delighted as Emma smiled across the room at her. “That is truly delightful! I am very pleased to hear you accept, Emma. After all, it is not as though you were to receive any further offers.”
Emma’s smile dropped to the floor.
“I would not have said that.” Lord Wellbridge cleared his throat and smiled, though it did not stretch very far. “Very good, Lord Yeatman. I hope your courtship goes very well.”
Much to Emma’s surprise, Lord Wellbridge suddenly got to his feet, his actions a little hasty and sharp.
“This was the wrong time for me to call,” he stated, sweeping into a bow, his tea and cake forgotten. “I shall take my leave and permit this happy moment to be captured by you all. Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon,” Emma echoed, though Martha stepped forward, as though to catch Lord Wellbridge’s arm to pull him back. Martha spoke Lord Wellbridge’s name, but all he did was turn his head, throw her a smile, and then continue to make his way from the room. Emma’s heart softened in sympathy for her sister as Martha resumed her seat, her shoulders a little rounded, though she kept her head high and her chin lifted.
“That was most considerate of him,” Lord Yeatman murmured, as Emma smiled at him, appreciating his warm compliment of Lord Wellbridge, and knowing that it wouldmean something to Martha. “Now, Miss Fairley, might we now consider what we shall do first? An ice at Gunther’s, mayhap?”
Emma clasped her hands tightly together again, her smile stretching right across her face as she nodded. That was a joy she had never before experienced, and certainly never with a gentleman!
