Prologue

“Emma?”

Closing her eyes, Miss Emma Fairley let out a long, slow breath, steadying herself inwardly.

“Yes, Mama?”

“Are you quite ready?”

Recalling what had already happened to her the previous evening, Emma pressed her hands to her cheeks, praying that the embarrassment that had seared through her would not easily return. Given that she had made no answer, Lady Follet practically danced through the door, her eyes glittering with evident delight. She appeared to be more excited than Emma was about the upcoming ball, though that might well be because Emma’s older sister appeared to have caught the interest of a high-titled gentleman.

“Whatever is taking you so long?” Lady Follet exclaimed, catching Emma’s hand and squeezing it firmly. “You appear to be ready, and the carriage is already here – as is your sister. Martha is desperate for us to make our way to the ball, and I cannot understand why you linger so!”

Emma offered a small smile, though her stomach knotted with tense anxiety which coursed right through her.

“I just want to make certain that everything is quite perfect, Mama.”

“So long as you do not stumble over the hem of your gown and fall into Lord Wellbridge’s arms again as you did last evening, then all shall be well,” her mother said flippantly, waving one hand in Emma’s direction before hurrying towards the door. “Now do hurry up. This evening cannot wait!”

Much to her surprise, hot tears formed behind Emma’s eyes, and she had to blink furiously to push them away. With only a single sentence, her mother had reminded her of her embarrassment, had thrown it at her, and then reminded her of what was at stake for this evening.

“I do not know what is happening,” Emma murmured softly, walking to the door, and trying to steady herself inwardly.

Almost every time she had stepped into society of late, something had occurred that not only embarrassed her but which made her feel so utterly ashamed that she could barely keep her head held high. Thus far, she had stumbled into a group of gentlemen and ladies, had tripped and fallen during one of the dances and into the gentleman’s arms, had stepped back and knocked a glass of wine from a lady’s hand which had subsequently tumbled over her, had splashed soup onto her gown when someone nudged her elbow and, on one occasion, become too close to a carriage on a rainy day and had become very wet indeed due to the splashing from the wheels.

It seemed that, no matter what she did or where she went, something went wrong. Emma was all too aware that she was garnering a reputation for being clumsy and foolish and, try as she might, she could not seem to escape it. She had told herself that on some occasions, it was not her doing, but was due to the failure of others - but the blame for some mishaps certainly sat on her shoulders. However, last evening had not been her foolishness. It had not been any lack of ability to follow the correct steps of the dance, had not been her failure in stepping out when she ought not to have done… but even her mother had not believed her. She had criticized Emma for not practicing enough with the dance master, and had told her how mortified she ought to be… and Emma had felt every single bit of embarrassment seeping down into her bones, just as she felt it now.

I can only hope that nothing untoward will happen, Emma told herself, following her mother down the staircase and towards the door. Perhaps I shall stay in the shadows and pretend that I am not present, in the hope of causing my family no further hint of shame.

“Do hurry up,” Martha exclaimed, pulling up the edge of her gloves as she tapped her foot on the floor in obvious impatience. “You may have no desire to go into society after last evening’s fiasco, but I certainly do.”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, only to close it again with a snap. Her sister was quite correct, for Emma certainly had no wish to attend another ball. No doubt she would be forced into Lord Wellbridge’s company again, due to his interest in her sister, and that would bring further embarrassment with it!

“We are ready now,” Lady Follet said with a hurried smile, ushering both girls towards the carriage. “Now do come on. Your father does not like to be kept waiting!”

Emma swallowed, nodded, and then stepped into the carriage, her fears already mounting. What clumsiness would overtake her this evening? How ungainly would she be, and what whispers would the ton say of her now?

“Do excuse me.”

Emma pressed her lips tight together as she moved forward carefully, making certain not to brush into any ladies or bump the arms of any of the gentlemen. She was nervous about making any sort of mistake, afraid of any sort of mishap that might make the eyes of the ton turn their attention towards her again. The ball had gone very well so far, given that she had not caused any accidents or done anything improper so, in that regard, Emma was satisfied. Her sister was busy dancing with various gentlemen and had her waltz already reserved by Lord Wellbridge, the gentleman who seemed eager for her attention. Her mother was busy watching Martha’s every step and thus, Emma had though it best to step to the back of the ballroom for a time, so she might hide in the shadows and make certain not to cause any sort of difficulty. The crowd became a little less busy and she was soon able to find her way through until, much to her relief, she found herself at the very back of the room. Turning, she crossed her arms over her chest and let out a slow breath, only for someone to speak to her, causing her to yelp in surprise.

“Good evening. Are you quite all right?”

Emma turned quickly, seeing a young lady smiling back at her.

“I – I am.”

“I just wanted to make quite certain that you were not separated from those you care about,” the young lady continued, offering her a small smile. “Though perhaps you did not intend to come and stand with the wallflowers?”

Emma blinked in surprise, realizing a little too late that a few young ladies were standing together, though only one or two had their eyes turned in Emma’s direction.

“I did not, but that does not trouble me, if that is your concern.”

“No?” The young lady’s smile grew, her eyes flickering with interest. “I would have thought that most young ladies would do everything they could to step away from wallflowers so that the gentlemen of the ton know that they are not one of them!”

“Mayhap I should be one,” Emma replied, a little heavily. “I have a deep and heavy struggle and it seems to me at this moment that standing back here, away from my mother, father, and sister, might be the very best thing for me to do. After all, it means that I will not be able to do anything that could cause anyone any embarrassment – including myself!” Seeing the strange look from the young lady, Emma spread out her hands, her cheeks infusing with heat. “I have had difficulty of late in terms of being a little… clumsy, though it has not always been my fault,” she said, hastily, wanting to make it clear that she was not entirely to blame for all of the things which had happened. “I do not know what it is that happens, I do not understand what always takes place but, yet, I am now becoming reputed, amongst the ton, to be rather ungainly.” She closed her eyes. “After what happened last evening, I am quite sure that there will be many a gentleman relieved that I will not dance this evening.”

“What do you mean?” the young lady asked, coming a little closer to Emma. “Why would they be relieved?”

Her face still hot, Emma shrugged lightly, seeing that she had no choice but to explain.

“I have trodden on someone’s foot and stumbled into the arms of a gentleman during the dance,” she explained, all the more embarrassed when the young lady’s eyes flared. “Though I will say that someone stood on my heel and tugged my slipper which was why I then lost my footing.”

“How dreadful!” the young lady exclaimed, making Emma smile at her fervor. “That is utterly disgraceful. I do hope that you were able to explain that to the gentleman. It is not fair if you should take the blame for that.”

Emma gave a quiet, tight laugh.

“I am afraid that there was no opportunity for explanation. I found myself embarrassed and too ashamed to speak. Besides which, everyone dancing – and everyone watching – saw it and I could not explain to each of them that what I had done was not my fault!”

The young lady smiled in sympathy.

“I suppose so. All the same, you must know that it is not your doing, and you cannot feel guilty for such things. I would not have you hide away with the wallflowers when there is no need.” Her smile grew a little sorrowful. “It is not as though it is a particularly happy situation.”

That gave Emma pause. She had always noticed the wallflowers but had never once considered their feelings about being treated in such a way. That was sorrowful indeed, and she could well understand the young lady’s disappointment. However, was she not also struggling? Was she not also being shunned by society, being pushed away from those who surrounded her? Their whispers and laughter were almost too much to bear, and her fear when she stepped out into society was growing with every opportunity that came to her. There was almost a pull towards the wallflowers, she had to admit. A pull that was growing, despite the sorrow in the lady’s voice.

“I am not in a particularly happy situation myself,” she murmured, seeing the young lady’s eyes flicker. “Though I am sorry that you are in such a position. I am sure it is not as you thought the Season would be.”

The young lady sighed and shrugged.

“It is as must be, I suppose,” she said, softly. “I cannot help it. My situation is such that such things are simply meant to be.”

“Well, if things continue as they are, I may find myself present here next Season,” Emma said, quietly, sharing a smile with the young lady. “But for the moment, I shall have to do my very best not to cause myself any more embarrassment… though whether I shall succeed remains to be seen.”

The young lady smiled softly.

“I will pray that I will not see you here next Season,” she said, making Emma smile back in appreciation at the kindness of her words. “My very best to you. Despite this, may you have the most successful Season.”