Chapter 5

Emma sighed and leaned back against the wall, aware that she was of no more significance to those present than the paintings on the wall above her. These last two weeks had been a heavy weight upon her heart, and she had found herself growing more and more despondent with every day that passed. The wallflowers had added to their number and, though she was glad of company, she was sorrowful over her lack of presence in amongst society.

“You look a little sorrowful this evening.” Miss Simmons smiled as she came to stand beside Emma. “What troubles you?”

“Aside from being a wallflower?” Emma asked, a little wryly. “I knew that it would be difficult, but I find it more than a little sorrowful to see my sister being guided away by my mother while I am directed to the edge of the room.” She sighed heavily, aware that her friend would understand exactly what she was talking about. “This is now the sixth ball I have attended in the last two weeks and the sixth ball where I shall spend many hours watching everyone dancing rather than dancing myself.” Her lips pursed for a moment. “Not that I did that very well.”

“Though as you have told me, it was not always your doing.”

“No, it was not,” Emma agreed, her smile a little sad. “Not that it makes any particular difference now.”

“I too wish it were different,” Miss Simmons agreed, quietly, her eyes and her voice holding the same longing as was in Emma’s heart. “But what can be done? At least, for the moment, we have each other.”

“Though Miss Bosworth does not seem to be the least bit pleased at having to join us,” Emma replied, her gaze snagging on the newest wallflower who had her arms folded and her brows furrowed, standing only a short distance away from both herself and Miss Simmons. “It will take time, I suppose, but she will settle into the way of things soon.”

“Mayhap.” Miss Simmons tilted her head. “I find Miss Bosworth to have a very strong resolve. I do not know what it is that she intends, but she certainly has no thought of remaining a wallflower!”

Emma’s lips curved.

“I do not know what she thinks can be done about it,” she replied, softly. “Once you are a wallflower, the ton sees you as nothing other than that, regardless of what you might hope.”

“That is very true, sadly,” Miss Simmons sighed, leaning back against the wall beside Emma and looking out at the crowd who, Emma presumed, were all enjoying the ball while they were not. “It also pains me that my family are so willing to push me back. That is one of my greatest sufferings.”

“As it is mine.” Emma glanced at her friend, aware of the ache in her heart, and understanding that Miss Simmons shared it. “Though there is one positive outcome from all of this, I must confess.”

“Oh?” Miss Simmons’ eyebrows lifted. “Might you tell me?”

Emma found herself laughing, making Miss Simmons’ confusion grow.

“The only good thing I can see from all of this is that I have not managed to stumble into anyone, I have not knocked a glass of wine across anyone, I have not bumped into someone, I have not embarrassed myself by my ineptness and I have not brought any sort of shame to my family. That must be a good thing.”

Miss Simmons did not laugh. She did not even smile. Instead, she turned to face Emma a little more and tilted her head just a little.

“Though that is interesting, is it not?” she said slowly, as Emma frowned, not understanding what it was that her friend meant. “It is interesting that you have not had any difficulties in that regard since you have become a wallflower.”

Emma wrinkled her nose.

“There is no real surprise there,” she stated. “I have not had the opportunity to do any such thing, have I? I am not dancing, I am not conversing with people, I am not–”

“All the same, would you not expect that ineptness, as you call it, to have followed you even into this situation?” Miss Simmons pulled her lips to one side for a few moments, her eyes still fixed on Emma’s. “I would have thought that, given what you have described, I would have seen you stumble or trip or do something that would be in line with what you have told me.”

Considering this, Emma let herself frown, finally understanding what Miss Simmons meant.

“I have always said that not all that happened was my doing.”

“What if none of it was your doing?”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, only for a sudden exclamation to catch her attention. She and Miss Simmons turned to see none other than Miss Bosworth coming towards them, a determined glint in her eyes.

“Miss Bosworth” she asked, as Lady Alice and Lady Frederica came to join them, gathering the full group together. “Is there something the matter?”

Miss Bosworth nodded.

“Yes. Something is wrong.”

Emma blinked, glancing at Miss Simmons, but her friend was looking at Miss Bosworth.

“Might I ask what it is?”

Miss Bosworth lifted her chin.

“I am tired of being a wallflower.”

Giving a small smile to Lady Alice, Emma put out her hands.

“I believe that we all are.”

“I would agree,” Miss Simmons added, quietly. “But what can be done?”

Emma watched the smile that crossed Miss Bosworth’s face. It was not one which brought light to her eyes but rather a firmness to her expression. Her stomach dipped. What was it that Miss Bosworth wanted to say?

“Listen to me, all of you,” Miss Bosworth began, her voice low but commanding. “Here we are, all standing here at the back of the ballroom without hope of stepping out to dance, without the expectation of good company or the like – and for what reason? None of us have done anything worthy of condemnation. We have been pushed aside by society but that does not mean that we have to remain as we are.”

“I do not understand what you mean. We are wallflowers. What more can we expect?” Lady Alice asked as Emma watched, listening rather than interjecting. Her heart told her that there was something significant here, but she did not want to ask questions – not as yet.

Miss Bosworth smiled, but her eyes flicked from one of them to the other, a steely look within them.

“We do not have to do as society expects of us, as I have only just said to you. The ton states that wallflowers must stand at the back of the room, silent and unimposing. I say that we do not have to do as they demand. Instead, we might walk, two or three together, about the ballroom, in amongst the guests, and seek to be seen and to be noticed. It might not change a great deal about our situation, but it will make us feel more significant, will it not? It will make certain that we are not forgotten! Even if society thinks we ought not to do anything akin to such a thing, why should it matter? We are already wallflowers. Do we truly wish to act as they demand? Do we wish to shrink back, to hide ourselves away and sink back into the darkness?”

Emma frowned.

“My parents expect me to be forgotten. They do not want to see me walking through the ballroom or catching the attention of others.”

“But how do you feel, Miss Fairley?” Miss Simmons asked, softly. “The ton – and your parents – cannot censure us more than it has already done, surely?”

A sudden flare of hope rushed up through Emma’s frame.

“I have found myself more than a little despondent of late, I confess. I know that my parents and my sister are very happy indeed, but I have felt myself… lost.”

“Of course you have.” Miss Bosworth spread out her hands. “Do you not wish for that to change?”

Emma nodded slowly, beginning to understand what it was that Miss Bosworth meant.

“Yes, I do.”

“We could stand together in the center of the ballroom and converse as so many others do.” Turning to Emma, Miss Simmons reached out and gripped her hand. “We do not have to hide here, do we? We could stand in amongst the other guests and talk together, even if no one else wishes to talk to us. What could be wrong with that?”

“There is nothing wrong with that,” Miss Bosworth stated firmly, that determination in her voice which only added to the hope that Emma felt within herself. “It will take gumption, certainly, but I, for one, am quite determined to step out and behave just as I please. Society might continue to call me a wallflower, but I will not behave as one.”

“And if she will not, then mayhap I ought not to either,” Miss Simmons murmured, catching Emma’s attention. “What do you think?”

Aware that her heart had quickened, Emma considered for a few moments, sensing a sudden uncertainty rising within her.

“My mother and father would have something to say. I fear that they would be very displeased and, given all that has happened, I am concerned that the clumsiness and ungainliness would continue to chase me once I stepped back into society.”

“I do not think that it shall,” Lady Frederica said, confidently. “You have friends with you now, do you not?”

Emma nodded slowly, biting her lip, aware that her worries were still very much present. She was being torn in two directions, eager to step back into society and yet afraid of what would happen – and what would be said – if she did.

“I do not know what my mother would think.” Miss Simmons turned to Lady Alice before glancing at Emma. “I fear what she would think.”

“I can understand that,” came the reply, “but I think that we must consider what it would be like if we remained here rather than risking our parents’ upset.”

Emma frowned at that thought. She certainly did not want to continue as a wallflower, hiding back in the shadows, ignored, and forgotten. Was that enough for her to force herself to do something different from what society – and her own parents – expected?

Miss Bosworth nodded.

“My own mother might also have something to say on the matter. But if I walk with my friends through the ballroom, then I am not alone, I am not without company. There can be nothing said against that in terms of propriety.”

“Especially since they have been quite contented for us to stand together alone,” Emma added. “They have never been concerned about propriety in that regard.”

Miss Simmons glanced at her.

“That is true.”

“It is very true,” Lady Alice agreed, looking around at them all. “Come, my dear friends, let us be brave. What is better? To stay here, hiding away, pushed aside and ignored? Or to be bold and to step out into the center of the room with the other guests, forcing them to take note of us?”

Courage began to overtake Emma’s fear as she caught the determination in Lady Frederica’s eyes, and then watched Miss Simmons let out a slow breath as she closed her eyes. “We will be together. We will always have someone with us.”

“Precisely,” Miss Bosworth stated, smiling.

“And who knows?” Lady Alice shrugged and smiled, though it was a little lackluster. “Mayhap a gentleman will take notice of us!”

Miss Simmons’ eyes widened as Emma’s doubts immediately began to grow.

“But we are wallflowers?” What will they care for that?”

“It is impossible to tell what might happen, is it not?” Lady Alice smiled again and, this time, it held no fear, no hint of doubts. “Not every gentleman will ignore us, I am sure of it. We may even get to dance! But if we stay here, as we are expected to do, we have no hope at all.”

“I – I think I can do it.” Miss Simmons looked at Emma, a smile beginning to catch the edge of her mouth. “I know you have the same fears as me, Miss Fairley, as regards our parents. What do you think?”

Emma tried to steady herself, feeling her whole body tingling with a sudden awareness of what they were about to do – and what no wallflower had ever thought to do before. Her eyes strayed to Miss Bosworth as Lady Frederica had taken her arm, clearly already determined that they were going to step out regardless of what the others decided. She was afraid, she realized. Afraid that this would do a great deal more damage to her reputation – and that the clumsiness which had pursued her before would do so again.

“I will.” Lady Alice moved forward and took Miss Bosworth’s other arm, then looked at Emma and Miss Simmons. “Come, my friends, let us go out together!”

Turning her attention to Miss Simmons, Emma swallowed hard and then nodded, seeing the way her friend’s eyes flared in hope.

“Miss Simmons, I think that I can set aside my concerns and walk with the other wallflowers out to the center of the room, to talk to each other and smile and make our presence known. Will you walk with me?”

Miss Simmons hesitated and then, with a nod, stepped forward and took her arm.

“Yes, I shall.”

Emma’s heart leaped and she turned, watching as Miss Bosworth, Lady Alice and Lady Frederica began to step away from the wall of the ballroom, stepping out into the light and away from the darkness. Despite her worry, despite her fears, Emma followed them, feeling Miss Simmons’ arm tighten on hers just a little, clear evidence that she too was feeling a little uncertain.

“It will be difficult, but we can do it,” she whispered, as Miss Simmons offered a slightly frightened smile. “All we need to do is walk together, stop in the middle of the crowd, and begin to talk, just as anyone else might do.” She looked at Miss Simmons again, taking a deep breath, and as she let it out again, smiled. “What could be easier?”