Chapter 14

Frederick scowled darkly.

“I am not in the right frame for teasing, Lord Gibson.”

Lord Gibson’s eyes flared as he sat opposite Frederick at White’s.

“Goodness, old boy. You are in something of a despondency.”

“Who is in a despondency?”

Frederick looked up as Lord Pleasance set one hand on the back of Frederick’s chair.

“Ah, good evening, Pleasance. Please, do sit down.”

Lord Pleasance did so at once, sitting back in his chair, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. His gaze flicked from Frederick to Lord Gibson and then back again, the slight smile on his face and the way he arched an eyebrow telling Frederick that he was a little intrigued.

“Lord Gibson was just asking me about Miss Fairley.” Seeing that he was not about to get away without a proper explanation, Frederick shrugged his shoulders. “I am not particularly inclined towards conversation in that regard.”

“No?” Lord Pleasance’s eyebrow lifted higher. “But I thought you would be delighted to talk about a young lady who has caught your attention so intensely.”

Frederick managed a smile, but it did not spread very far. After what had happened at the ball earlier that evening, he had not found himself in high spirits. His thoughts had turned continually to Miss Fairley, worrying about what might happen to her next, given that things had become a little more severe.

“What is it that troubles you?” Lord Gibson sat a little further forward in his chair, looking at Frederick expectantly. “You are not pretending that you do not like Miss Fairley but yet you do not wish to talk about it, and you do not smile either! It cannot be that the lady has refused you?”

“Refused me?” Frederick looked at his friend sharply. “What do you mean?”

“You have asked to court her, have you not?” Lord Gibson looked a little surprised when Frederick shook his head. “Oh. I thought that, given your interest in her, you might have done such a thing.”

Frederick blinked and then threw back the rest of his whisky before ordering another, waving his hand at the footman. He had not thought about courtship but the more that he considered it, the more he realized that there was no particular reason why he ought not to do such a thing. After all, he was fully aware that he did care for the lady, that he was certainly not only concerned for her but drawn to her, so why should he not pursue something a little more intimate with her?

“Yes, I think I shall.” Seeing his two friends shoot a look at one another, Frederick managed a wry smile and then shrugged his shoulders again. “It does not matter to me whether or not you know of my intentions. Yes, I will admit that previously I have never had any real interest in pursuing a young lady with thoughts of matrimony and the like, but that was all before I met Miss Fairley.”

“Good gracious.” Lord Pleasance blinked in evident surprise but then smiled. “That is quite wonderful. Miss Fairley does seem to be an excellent young lady, with a very delicate character.”

“Though is she not still a little… ungainly at times?”

The question Lord Gibson asked sent a sudden fire rushing through Frederick’s frame.

“No, she is not.”

“No?”

Telling himself that Lord Gibson’s question was not something that was asked out of spite, Frederick took a steadying breath and accepted the glass of whisky from the footman.

“The ungainliness is not her doing.” Seeing his friends’ slightly confused expressions, Frederick chose to give them both a brief explanation. “At your dinner, Pleasance, there was something that occurred that upset the calmness of the evening. Do you recall?”

Lord Pleasance nodded.

“The footman and the plate which slipped.”

“I took responsibility for it, for if I had not, the blame would have fallen on Miss Fairley. Even though the footman would have been chided about being a little less than careful, the others at the table would have suspected that Miss Fairley had done something which had upset the plate.”

“Because she is a little clumsy, yes,” Lord Gibson said, though without malice. “The time the tray of drinks fell from the footman’s hand was only because she reached for a glass and then–”

“And then what?” Frederick challenged, quickly. “What was it that you saw her do? What was it that she did that caused that entire tray to come crashing down?”

Lord Gibson hesitated, opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

“You see?” Frederick said, quickly, “You do not know. You cannot say what it was that she did, because she did not do anything. There is someone else, someone attempting to make it appear as though she is nothing short of awkward and graceless when, in truth, she is just as poised as any other young lady.”

Lord Pleasance frowned heavily.

“I do not understand. She is a wallflower. Why would anyone demand that a wallflower appear so?”

“That is the reason she became a wallflower,” Frederick explained, bringing understanding to them both. “The incidents which occurred last Season, and then again this year, seemed to be reason enough for her to be set aside, to be pushed away. Once she was set at the sides of the ballroom, once she was no longer in society’s view, those incidents stopped. But,” he finished, his stomach tightening as he recalled what had happened, “once she began to step forward into society again, those incidents have begun again.”

“I see.” Lord Gibson put out both hands. “I must apologize, then, for what I was led to believe. I ought not to have said that she was this or that way, if it was not her own doing.”

“It seemed as though she was as you described, so I do not hold anything against you,” Frederick said quickly, though silently relieved that his friend had accepted his explanation so quickly. “However, as I have known her a little better, I have seen just how badly someone is seeking to have her removed from society. Last evening, for example, someone pushed a hairpin into her sides, one at a time, so that she cried out so loudly, half the guests became aware of her!”

“Goodness.” Lord Pleasance’s eyes widened. “Is she quite all right?”

Frederick nodded.

“Later that evening, after consulting with Miss Simmons, she informed me that they had found a hole in either side of her gown, where she believes the hairpin would have been pushed into her sides. It did not do her any lasting damage, however, for which we are all grateful.”

“Though that does sound rather serious,” Lord Pleasance continued, quickly. “What is it that can be done to prevent this? Surely her parents–”

“Lord and Lady Follet have repeatedly pushed her back into being a wallflower and they do not believe that she is not responsible for what has happened,” Frederick explained, quickly. “They will do nothing.”

“Then you feel responsible.” Lord Gibson’s expression had become a little darker, perhaps a little guilty over what he had expressed about Miss Fairley previously. “You want to be of aid to her.”

“Of course I do!” Frederick exclaimed, “Though my trouble is, at present, that I have very little thought about what I can do.” Looking at each friend expectantly, he saw them both shake their heads and let out a small sigh of his own. “I wanted to be of aid to her. I wanted to help her and now, though we have discovered something significant, I cannot do anything further to assist her.”

“Mayhap what you decided to do only a few minutes ago would be enough,” Lord Pleasance said, quietly. “Have you thought of that?”

“I do not know what you mean.” Confused, Frederick looked back at Lord Pleasance. “What was it I decided?”

“To consider courting Miss Fairley,” came the reply. “That might be a support enough.”

A smile tugged at Frederick’s features as he thought of asking to court Miss Fairley. It would bring him a good deal of satisfaction and happiness, certainly, and he would have to hope that she felt the same way too.

“It is a good thought, certainly.”

“She will feel a good deal of support from you in that regard, I would agree,” Lord Gibson remarked. “You are showing her that you do not think of her as a wallflower – though you are doing that already. You are proving it, mayhap, and showing the ton that you think her worthy of attention.”

“That is true,” Frederick considered. “Though I would do it primarily for myself. I do care for the lady, and I cannot see what reason I have to step back from that. Thank you both for bringing that awareness to me.”

Lord Gibson and Lord Pleasance both smiled and for the first time since he had stepped into White’s, Frederick let a broad, contented smile settle onto his face. As soon as he had the opportunity tomorrow, he would go to call on Lord Follet and, thereafter, speak to Miss Fairley. He could only hope that she would accept him.

“Lord Yeatman,how very pleasant to have you call.”

Frederick smiled and inclined his head.

“I thank you.”

“Please, sit down.” Lord Follet sat down opposite, before gesturing to the table where the whisky sat. “Should you like something to drink?”

Glancing at the window where the sunshine streamed through, Frederick shook his head.

“A little too early for me, Lord Follet. Let me get straight to the point, if I may. I have come to speak to you in the hope that I might court your daughter.”

Lord Follet’s eyes widened.

“I see.”

“It may come as something of a surprise, I am sure, but I will not be put off from this,” Frederick said, firmly. “We have not been acquainted for long, but I have a consideration for her which I believe will grow into something all the more wonderful. That is the reason I wish to court her.”

Lord Follet ran one hand over his chin though, much to Frederick’s surprise, he did not appear to be overly delighted with this suggestion.

“That is a good thing to hear, Lord Yeatman,” he said, slowly. “I am always eager to make certain that any gentleman who shows an interest in my daughters does so with the right intentions.”

“Which, I assure you, I have,” Frederick said, quickly. “My intentions are not simply to court and then break things off once I have enjoyed a little more of her company! My sights are set solely on the future and in that regard, I will court Miss Fairley – should I be granted permission – with the view to betrothal and marriage.”

“I see,” Lord Follet said again, though a slight frown flickered about his forehead, confusing Frederick with the gentleman’s lack of delight. “I shall have to speak to my daughter about this, you understand. It will have to be her decision.”

Frederick frowned.

“I am well able to accept whatever answer she gives me. There is no need for you to concern yourself, Lord Follet. I will not demand that she accept me.”

Lord Follet’s smile was a little tight.

“It is not that, Lord Yeatman,” he said, speaking with great consideration as though every word had to be chosen carefully. “You may not be aware of this, but my daughter has other gentlemen who are interested in her company. I would not want to presume on her behalf.”

Frederick’s chest tightened.

“I… I was not aware of that.” Searching his mind for who these other gentlemen might be, Frederick found himself struggling to come up with even one single name. “Then I shall, of course, leave you to speak with Miss Fairley. I do hope that her answer will be a positive one, however.” Getting to his feet, he shook Lord Follet’s hand. “I admire Miss Fairley a great deal, Lord Follet. Ever since we sat together at Lord Pleasance’s dinner, I have found myself quite captivated with her. Thank you again for your time in listening to my request.” He released Lord Follet’s hand. “Good evening.” A slightly strangled sound came from Lord Follet’s mouth, causing Frederick to pause. Lord Follet’s eyes had rounded, and he did not appear to be able to speak, though he was shaking his head and blinking rapidly. “Are you quite all right?” Frederick turned back from the door. “Lord Follet?”

“You…” Lord Follet shook his head and then coughed. “Forgive me, Lord Yeatman. Am I to understand that you are eager to court my younger daughter, Miss Emma Fairley?”

Frederick nodded slowly, realizing now that Lord Follet had thought him to be interested in the elder daughter.

“Yes, Lord Follet. Forgive me if I had not made that clear. I have been spending a good deal of time with your younger daughter and I would, therefore, be eager to court her.”

Lord Follet stared at him and then, much to Frederick’s surprise, began to laugh. He laughed so hard that he began to wheeze, and Frederick worried he would have to soon ring the bell and call for some assistance. Eventually, however, the gentleman managed to contain himself and, to Frederick’s astonishment, slapped one hand on Frederick’s shoulder.

“My dear sir, if you had said from the beginning that it was Emma you wished to pursue, I should have taken you by the hands and danced a jig!” Lord Follet exclaimed, a clear delight in his expression. “Yes, of course, you may court her.”

Frederick swallowed hard, finding his frustrations beginning to rise given how differently this gentleman treated his two daughters.

“I thank you,” he managed to say, though he was not able to force a smile. “That is very much appreciated.”

“Of course, you are aware that she can often cause you embarrassment?” Lord Follet asked, dropping his hand from Frederick’s shoulder. “You will have seen it by now.”

His back stiffened and it took all of Frederick’s strength not to respond with a sharpness which would cut through Lord Follet’s smile.

“I have not seen anything which concerns me,” he said, firmly. “Thank you again, Lord Follet. If I may, I shall take my leave and go in search of your daughter.”

“But of course!” Lord Follet seemed almost jubilant now, accompanying Frederick to the door and opening it for him as though he were ushering out a very special guest. “I ought to be the one thanking you, Lord Yeatman! You have truly made my heart happy.”

Frederick murmured something incomprehensible and quickly took his leave, finding himself caught between relief and frustration. Lord Follet had not stated that he would have to ask his daughter about her opinion on the matter before accepting him, as he had done for his elder daughter. Instead, he had practically thrown Miss Fairley into Frederick’s arms, and had she been present, Frederick was quite certain that was what would have happened.

It does not matter, he told himself firmly, making his way to the drawing room. All that matters is that I have Lord Follet’s agreement. Now all I need is Miss Fairley’s acceptance.