Chapter 17

“Might you step into the carriage for a moment?”

Emma frowned, looking from Lord Wellbridge to the carriage and back again.

“The carriage?”

“Yes, if you would?” Lord Wellbridge put one hand to his heart, letting out a prolonged sigh. “There is such a heavy weight upon my heart that I confess I must speak of it to someone.”

Emma hesitated still.

“It would not be proper for me to sit in the carriage with only your company, Lord Wellbridge.”

“Oh, but I shall leave the door wide open and as you can still see Lord Yeatman and Lord and Lady Pleasance from here, I am sure you can see that there is nothing to trouble you.”

This was a little odd, Emma considered but, then again, there was something about Lord Wellbridge at this moment that caught her attention. He did have something he wished to share with her, she was sure, and given that it was no doubt about Martha, did she not have a sisterly duty to hear him out?

“I must speak to you,” Lord Wellbridge said again, coming closer and lowering his voice. “Let me explain to you as clearly as I can.” He took a breath. “After my hasty departure yesterday, I have taken a great deal of time to consider my… position in some things. I realize now that I ought to have stayed and taken advantage of that opportunity; I should have made my own intentions very plain. Instead, I departed and that was foolish. Might I have a few minutes to do so now? I will take full advantage of these quiet few minutes, I assure you. It will help my own heart a great deal if you would only be good enough to accept that from me.”

Biting her lip, Emma took in another breath and then lifted her shoulders before letting them fall.

“Very well. So long as it is only for a few minutes, Lord Wellbridge. I am sure you can understand my concern.”

“But of course.” Lord Wellbridge swept into a great bow before her, catching her hand as he rose before inclining his head over it again. “You are very considerate and most generous, Miss Fairley.”

“Whatever you wish to speak of must be of the greatest importance, I am sure,” Emma replied, climbing into the carriage the moment he had released her hand. “Please, let us speak of it directly for I do wish to return to Lord Yeatman very soon.”

Lord Wellbridge climbed up and sat opposite, only to reach across, pull the door closed and before Emma could protest, rapped on the roof. The carriage started at once and Emma snatched in a breath, a sudden fear enveloping her. Her hands dug into the seat as she stared at Lord Wellbridge, seeing him grin and finding herself suddenly terrified.

“Lord Wellbridge,” she whispered, hoarsely, a weakness rushing through her now. “What is it that you are doing?”

“I am speaking with you, of course.” Lord Wellbridge smiled as though it was more than acceptable for him to have captured her in this way. “Do you not understand yet, Miss Fairley? It is you that I wish to speak to.”

Emma swallowed hard, her fingers still tight on the edge of the seat.

“For what purpose?”

“To make my intentions for you clear! Have you not understood them all this time?”

The eagerness of his expression, the wide eyes that searched hers, and the fierce hope that she would understand only added to Emma’s confusion.

“Last Season, I attempted to seek you out, but your elder sister continually put herself in my way,” Lord Wellbridge stated, rolling his eyes at the memory. “She has done so again this Season and then, for whatever reason, I have very rarely had the opportunity to see you or speak with you! I did not know why, and every time I spoke to your sister – for I sought her out very often in the hope of speaking with you, she gave no indication of where you had gone.”

Emma’s whole body went cold. She shivered involuntarily, looking back into Lord Wellbridge’s face as she fought to understand what it was that he said. From what she understood, it seemed to be that this gentleman had been eager to pursue a courtship with her, rather than with Martha, as she had always presumed. That did not make the least bit of sense to her, for he had never made himself plain in that regard.

“You do not believe me.” Lord Wellbridge sighed and then, reaching across, made to grasp her hand, though Emma snatched it back quickly and folded her hands across her chest, keeping herself as far from him as possible. Lord Wellbridge let out a long sigh and shook his head, seemingly a little upset that she did not trust him. “It is understandable. I must tell you that I found myself filled with such deep regret yesterday afternoon that I had no other choice but to take myself away from your company until I had thought through what I had to do next. Lord Yeatman has taken hold of you before I could do the same – but that is only because I could not find you! I danced with your sister very often, and asked her where you might be, and wondered why you had been pushed from society… in truth, however, I did think of my own reputation also.” Wincing, he spread out his hands as the carriage trundled on. “You must understand, Miss Fairley, I am a gentleman with a title and reputation to take care of! I did not understand the reason for your absence from society. If some great scandal had occurred, then I feared that if I searched too hard, if I attempted to understand it with a little too much fervency, my reputation could be damaged. Therefore, I had to be cautious, though my intentions have always remained steady.”

Emma closed her eyes, a thread of worry beginning to run through her veins.

“Lord Wellbridge, whatever your intentions were for me, surely you can see that what you have done at this moment is not at all proper! You are in danger of damaging my reputation.”

“Ah, but now that you understand my feelings for you, there is nothing to concern yourself about in that regard!” Lord Wellbridge beamed at her as though this was the solution to her worries. “We can simply tell Lord Yeatman that you did not know of my feelings at the time that you accepted his courtship and–”

“I have no intention of accepting your courtship, Lord Wellbridge!” Emma stared straight back at him, seeing his eyebrows lifting. “I am perfectly contented with Lord Yeatman’s courtship.” Lord Wellbridge frowned, blinking rather quickly as though he had no understanding whatsoever of what she had said. “Though I do appreciate your consideration of me,” Emma continued quickly, hoping that perhaps thanking him and showing some sort of kindness might encourage him to return her to Lord Yeatman. “However, I will not change my mind.”

“But… but I am an Earl,” Lord Wellbridge said slowly, his brows now so heavy over his eyes, they put shadows there. “He is only a Viscount. Why would you…. Ah, I understand.” He shook his head. “Yes, I will admit that Lord Yeatman has a great deal of wealth, but my fortune is also quite substantial.”

The carriage continued to make its way through London, and Emma looked out of the window, aware of just how quickly her heart was pounding as she struggled to find an answer to give him – an answer that would force him to turn around and bring her back from where he had left her.

“Lord Wellbridge,” she said, firmly, lacing her fingers together and squeezing them tight. “It is not to do with Lord Yeatman’s fortune, nor his title. Rather, it is because I think so very highly of him. He is kindness itself, has shown me nothing but generosity of spirit and–”

“All of which I can offer you also!” Lord Wellbridge exclaimed, reaching to put his hand on top of hers, though Emma pulled hers away. This, unfortunately, left his hand on her knee, and given the smile on his face, it did not seem that he was willing to give her even the smallest opportunity to escape him. “We do not know each other particularly well as yet, so you cannot compare me to Lord Yeatman. However, I promise you that I can be all that he is to you – and more!”

“No.” Emma shook her head, tears beginning to burn in the corners of her eyes though she blinked quickly to push them back. “No, Lord Wellbridge. Though I can see that you are genuine in your attempts to convince me of your suitability, my mind is still made up. I chose Lord Yeatman, and I choose him again, despite your offer.”

Lord Wellbridge’s face went very red indeed. His eyes narrowed and he pulled his hand back, his jaw tightening hard.

“This will not do,” he said, eventually as Emma’s breath grew quick and fast. “This will not do, Miss Fairley! I cannot accept it. I will not accept it. We will continue to my townhouse and, thereafter, you will be convinced of my suitability.”

“Please, Lord Wellbridge.” The tears she had been fighting now began to run down Emma’s cheeks though she quickly swiped them away. “My reputation is already damaged by being in your company alone. Please, do not risk it any further. It is not fair of you to do such a thing to me, it is not right.”

“We will be able to court and eventually wed,” Lord Wellbridge told her. “Your reputation, though it may be a little damaged by this incident, will not affect the outcome. I am sure that you understand and, though you may not be particularly pleased at this moment, I can promise you that you will find happiness again very soon.” He folded his arms across his chest and turned his gaze to the window, refusing to look at her. “I will have you as my bride, Miss Fairley. It may happen a little more quickly than I had anticipated but if that is what must happen, then so be it.”

“No,” Emma whispered, looking at the carriage door and wondering if she could make her escape, though jumping from a moving carriage was not at all a wise idea, she knew. “Please, do not do this, Lord Wellbridge. Return me to Lord Yeatman and my mother. I do not want to court you. I do not want to wed you! The only person I care for is Lord Yeatman and I can promise you, he will not care one iota about this. Please, if there is any true tenderness of feeling within your heart for me, then–”

“No!”

Lord Wellbridge’s face was scarlet as he swiped the air between them with his hand, cutting her off completely.

“I have made my decision,” he hissed, as the carriage began to slow though they were not anywhere near his townhouse as yet. “I will not have another word of protest from you, Miss Fairley. You will soon see that there is nothing to be gained by it. I always get what I want and, in this case, what I want is you.”

Emma swallowed her tears, wiped her eyes, and shifted across the carriage so she was sitting as far from Lord Wellbridge as she could. Her heart was pounding furiously, her whole body shaking but her mind was clear. This was a truly desperate situation, but one where she had to find her way out. If she did nothing, then Lord Wellbridge would gain what he sought, and she would be left without a single modicum of happiness. What she had shared with Lord Yeatman would be broken apart, never to be recovered, and Emma cared about the gentleman too much to let that happen.

I must escape,she told herself, glancing across at Lord Wellbridge and seeing him remaining just as he had been, looking steadfastly out of the other window. Jumping from the moving carriage would not be a wise idea unless she wished to twist or break her ankle, but how else could she escape him?

At that moment, the carriage began to slow, and Emma heard what seemed to be a few distant shouts. She barely glanced at Lord Wellbridge, her eyes going to the door as she forced courage into her limbs. The trembling did not cease completely but it gave her enough conviction that she could do what was required.

It is my only chance, she told herself, as the carriage slowed all the more though did not stop entirely. I must go now!

Taking in a steadying breath, Emma blew it out slowly and then, in one swift movement, reached for the door. It opened and she flung it back, only to hear Lord Wellbridge shout her name. Pushing herself up, she tried to get to it, tried to leap from it to the cobbled street beneath, but Lord Wellbridge caught her arm and shouted her name again.

“Release me!”

A scream lodged in her throat as she grasped at the doorframe of the carriage, pulling herself as hard as she could away from Lord Wellbridge. Lord Wellbridge rapped hard on the roof and then, with his other hand, pulled her bodily back to the seat.

She had failed.

The door to the carriage was pulled open and another figure climbed inside.

“Release her, Wellbridge!”

Emma let out a cry of relief as Lord Yeatman’s frame filled the carriage, coming between her and Lord Wellbridge. She did not want to ask what he had done, or how he had found her; all she could feel was relief.

“Now!”

Emma could not quite see what had happened, her vision was a little blurred at the edges given the shock and fright that ran through her. Hearing Lord Wellbridge’s howl of pain, she blinked furiously, feeling his hand release from her arm.

“Come, Emma.”

Lord Yeatman’s hand was gentle as it took hers though she grasped it firmly, letting him take her to the door. He stepped out first and then helped her down, the carriage having come to a standstill.

The moment she stood on the ground, his arms were around her.

“Thank God, I found you.” His voice was hoarse as he held her close and Emma sagged against him, tears threatening all over again. “I did not think… I was afraid that–”

“I am all right.”

He released her, though looked down into her eyes, searching her face.

“I must return you to your mother before she realizes something is wrong,” he said, quietly. “Lord Pleasance’s carriage is just here. Come.”

Emma struggled to put one foot in front of the other as she leaned heavily on Lord Yeatman’s arm. It took the last few ounces of strength to step up into the carriage and the moment that she sat down, her whole body sank into the seat and she did not think that she would be able to rise again without help.

“We will be back with your mother very soon. I am hopeful that Lord and Lady Pleasance will have distracted her so well that she will not be aware of your absence.” Lord Yeatman shifted from the other side of the carriage to sit next to her, and Emma rested her head on his shoulder, her chest heaving with the whirlwind of emotions that overcame her. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she whispered, her eyes closing as she settled against him. “But what he said is so astonishing, I do not think that I can speak of it.”

“Then do not,” he said softly. “I will have you returned home as quickly as possible but, until then, do not push yourself to say even a single word.”

“Will you call on me tomorrow?”

He nodded, his lips brushing her forehead.

“Of course,” he whispered, softly. “And every day after that, if you wish it.”

She nodded, her throat tight.

“I wish it,” she replied, only just managing to hold the tears back. “Thank you for saving me from him, Lord Yeatman. I do not know what would have become of me had you not.”

“I would have been loyal to you no matter what had taken place,” he swore, making her lips lift just a little. “Rest now. It will not be long before you are returned to your mother.”