“I do not care for him,” Emma replied, fervently, though Martha’s eyes remained steadfastly closed, her lips pursed. “Besides which, I would not have put you through any sort of pain, Martha. I could see that you were eager for his company and, though we are not close as sisters, though we are not friends as I had once hoped we would be, I would never have caused you unnecessary pain. I assure you that this is true, just as I speak it.”
Martha finally opened her eyes and looked back steadily at Emma. She did not speak for some minutes, only to then shake her head and look away, her lips now pulled into a flat line.
“Given what Lord Wellbridge did, I spoke to him directly and stated that he was to effectively end the acquaintance between himself and all of you.” Lord Yeatman reached and took Emma’shand for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “I hope that you understand why I said such a thing.”
“Of course I do.” Reassuring him, Emma offered him a small smile. “I am only sorry that you had cause to do it.”
“Though you should not have spoken for me.” Martha tossed her head, but Emma caught the glistening tears in her sister’s eyes. “I could have made such a decision myself.”
Emma and Lord Yeatman exchanged glances, though Lord Yeatman gave her only a tiny shrug, leaving the conversation in Emma’s hands.
“It was said out of concern for you,” she explained, simply. “Surely you cannot want to be in Lord Wellbridge’s company again, not after hearing what I have told you about him?”
Martha sniffed but said nothing.
“I understand that you have fought for his attentions for a long time,” Emma finished, an ache growing steadily in her heart as she prayed that her sister would understand that there was no malice in what Lord Yeatman had said to Lord Wellbridge. “But he is not worthy of you, Martha. He never was.”
Her sister swallowed hard and then reached for her tea, still saying nothing.
“You fought for his attentions in more ways than one, did you not?”
Emma frowned, glancing at Lord Yeatman as he directed his words and his gaze toward Martha.
“I do not know what you mean.” Martha lifted her chin, but her gaze continued to jump from Emma to Lord Yeatman and back again. “I think–”
“Yes, you do.” Lord Yeatman shifted a little further forward in his chair, a frown encroaching on his brow. “Youhave been the one behind all of the incidents that have embarrassed your sister, have you not?Youhave been the one who made her fall, who knocked the arm of the footman, who, no doubt, paid abribe to various footmen and maids to act in a particular fashion, so that your sister would appear at fault.”
Emma snatched in a breath, her eyes flaring as she saw color begin to creep up into Martha’s face.
“No, Martha,” she breathed, as Martha’s gaze dropped to her hands as they fiddled in her lap. “No, surely it could not be thatyou-”
“It was you, was it not?” Lord Yeatman interrupted, albeit with a gentle tone as his hand caught Emma’s again. “Tell us the truth, Miss Fairley, if you will. It is only fair to your sister for her to know the truth. There is no sense in pretending, for I am already quite certain of the truth.”
Emma, her throat tightening and her heart pounding, gazed at her sister, her voice breathless with shock and dread.
“Tell me the truth, Martha, please. Was it you? Are you the one who has been doing these things to me?”
Martha let out a long, slow breath and, closing her eyes, put out both hands and then let them fall.
“Yes,” she said, eventually, her eyes opening to look directly back into Emma’s face. “Yes, Emma. It was me.”
Chapter Twenty
Frederick’s stomach kicked hard as Miss Martha Fairley made her confession. It was not that he was surprised that she had confirmed the thoughts that had come into his mind as he had listened to the exchange between the two sisters, but rather astonished at the very calm way in which she delivered this news. He could practically feel the shock running through Emma, for her hand had not only found him, but she had wound her fingers through his as well, gripping his hand hard as she stared straight ahead, looking only at her sister. His heart ached for her and, though he wanted to say something more, though he had questions he wanted to ask of her, Frederick chose to remain silent and let Emma speak, rather than letting loose with his questions.
“I cannot quite believe this.” Emma closed her eyes tightly, her hand pressing his with such strength, it was almost a little painful. “You, Martha?” Opening her eyes, she looked back at her sister. “Why? Why would you do such things to me? I am yoursister.”
Martha’s jaw tightened.
“It is because of Lord Wellbridge, sister,” she said, with the very same calmness that had shocked Frederick before. “You said yourself that you saw that I cared for him, that I had an affection for him. Why, then, should I let my heart break when there was something I could do to garner Lord Wellbridge’s attention?”
“By punishing me? Even though I did not know of his interest?” Emma asked, as the other Miss Fairley shrugged and looked away. “Why would you not simply speak to me? Why would you decide to treat me in such a way, instead of coming to me with an honest, gentle manner in which you would have been able to ascertain myownfeelings on the matter?”
“Because I already knew them!” Martha rose to her feet, one finger shaking hard in Emma’s direction, and it was all Frederick could do not to get to his feet and come between them. “I knew of your feelings. I knew that you were desperate to find a match, that you were utterly determined to secure a suitable husband, just as my own feelings were – and why then would you refuse Lord Wellbridge?”
“I did not even notice him!” Emma exclaimed as Frederick pressed her hand gently, reminding her of his presence, reminding her that he was there with her. “All I could think of, all I could see, was these embarrassments which kept overtaking me, these mortifications which had nothing to do with me and yet were placed at my feet! It is because of your actions that I became a wallflower!” Her hand pressed hard on Frederick’s, the lady’s voice wobbling as she continued to speak to her sister. “That night at the dinner table, when we dined with Lord and Lady Pleasance - Lord Wellbridge was not even present! Why then would you have the footman do such a thing as to make it look as though I was the reason for him dropping the plate?”
Martha sniffed.
