I'm continuing the series! If I get enough reviews, I'll consider doing one about Jane and Tom, or other Jane Austen Heroines.
You know where the button is!
xox
Between Friends
On earth there are mistakes being made, lovers finally reaching out to each other, babies being born, and somewhere, everywhere, a doctor is shaking his head and drawing the sheet up over a head. A head belonging to an individual that will never see, and never love again.
However, if you were to travel those thousands of miles toward the heavens, solitary raindrops were falling once again.
Angel Boy sighed, and put down his book
"Crying again? What is it this time?"
"I'm sad" his sister replied "We can never love. Not like those humans, anyway"
Her brother snorted and sat up straighter "Who wants love?? They don't seem any happier for it, the quarrels go on, and there is a burden, you know, of worrying about someone other than yourself. At any rate, who told you that we can't love??"
Loud sniffing filled the air once again, and a nearby star lifted his eyebrow and listened.
"I just know!" Angel Girl weakly insisted
"Also, what have you ever done to help people with love, if you love it so much? Look at my handiwork." he swept an arm toward the Darcys who were sitting outside on their front porch, watching the stars.
"I took a hand once you know..."
"No! No, Miss Taylor, she can't marry the King, he far too old for her!" Emma Woodhouse pouted at her governess "You can't marry someone who is ten years older than you!!"
If she'd been paying more attention, the fourteen year old would have been surprised at the sudden tears that threatened to appear, and pressed Miss Taylor for the reason...
Years rolled along, and soon Emma relinquished her crown of girlhood, and with it, many of her childhood dreams. She saw hereslf as a woman with a goal. She would make sure everyone was happily matched, and look after her father into his old age. She would remain single, loveless but happy on the whole with her lot.
By the time she was twenty-one, she was sure that she really would never marry, and was resigned to it. Only now and again she would glance up at the stars and wonder. Wonder what it was she was missing.
Through all this, she never questioned the glow in her heart when George Knightley, her very best friend sparked when he called her 'Emma dear' for the first time.
She never connected love with the thrill that went through her from head to toe when falling asleep one evening she awoke to find her head pillowed against his chest, as he also slept.
She never wondered about the sudden urge to run her finger through his hair, and simply stay there lying safe against him forever.
No, she never thought.
***
George Knightley liked his neighbour, James Woodhouse, and enjoyed his intelligent, if slightly paranoid, conversation. When his brother John married Isobel Woodhouse, he became even closer and took great delight in watching little Emma growing up.
Correcting her grammar, scolding her roundly, building her a treehouse, picking her up when she fell down, yes, he looked upon her as his little protégé.
Until that fateful evening. Emma had spent all day at Miss Bates' house helping with choosing the colours that the new dining room would be decorated in, and was exhausted. He had smiled when her efforts to stay awake failed and slowly she had fallen asleep, a soft smile on her face.
Inch by inch she'd fallen toward him, and every inch she fell, every inch he tried not to notice, talking to James about banks all the while.
Well, until her cheek touched his bare arm, that is. He was completely unprepared for the lot of electricity that passed straight through him, curling his toes and leaving him in shock. It was wrong. He shouldn't feel this way for little Emma. Focusing every inch of his iron willpower, he concentrated on her father, all the while scolding himself.
Emma is practically your little sister! Stop it! Don't even look at her... (he couldn't resist) -lips.
Why had he never noticed them before?? Fixated, he stared at the vision in his arms and was startled when her father broke in.
"Ah, I see poor Emma has fallen asleep, I don't know how she puts up with me, poor girl. But, on the whole, it is a good idea. You finish your book, and I will have a quick nap too. No, my dear fellow, stay and finish your book. Emma is comfortable, leave her, dear girl"
But George found the girl in his arms far more interesting, and now he had an extremely good opportunity to study Emma like he had never studied her before.
In time, he fell asleep himself.
It was two hours later when Emma awoke with a start. A few moments later,
Knightley awoke too, and regarded her with a lazy brown eye.
She caught his eye, and for a suspended moment in time, they stared, before Emma abruptly moved
"I-I-I'd better get to b-bed" she stammered, and stumbled off.
Mr. Woodhouse had awoken too by now and was looking very smug. Knightley was suddenly reminded of a cat that had got the cream.
"You know Miss Taylor is to marry old Mr. Weston?" James broke in to the silence
"I had heard something of the kind" Knightley agreed
"He has a son, Frank, who has lived with his aunt - Mary Churchill all his life. I think the pair of them are thinking that he should be matched with poor Emma"
George Knightley was sure an invisible hand must have punched him in the stomach - how else could he explain that sudden sinking feeling. He refused to admit it could be jealousy.
He glowered at James Woodhouse.
"That puts me in mind of an arranged marriage. Do you agree with this??"
Maybe for all his protests against marriage Mr. Woodhouse was a very shrewd person. He leaned back in his chair and silently smiled at the furious Mr. Knightley
***
He wasn't the only one scowling.
"That does it!" Angel Girl said to no-one in particular "I'm going to show them all that Frank is engaged. He's not going to spoil this romance for me"
So, a week later, when they were alone again and George Knightly had plucked up enough courage, he asked rather sourly.
"How are things going with the arranged marriage?"
"Oh." a gleam definitely came to the older man's eye "He's engaged"
"To Emma??" this wasn't intended to erupt as a roar, but it did.
"Of course not! He's engaged to a girl called Jane Fairfax"
"Oh" Mr. Knightley sank back with relief "Good. I apologize."
A deep chuckle boomed out. "Don't worry, dear man. I must say, though, is there anything you'd like to tell me?"
The George Knightley's of this world seldom blush. Apparently, according to all sources, this one came very close to it.
"Someone call?" Emma poked her head round the door "Oh, papa, it's Mr. Knightley you have with you, I could have sworn it was a dangerous animal of some sort.
Mr. Woodhouse chuckled and poor George leaned back in his seat, pretending to study his nails.
"Don't worry, Mr. Knightley dear, we won't tell anyone - will we father?"
Mr. Woodhouse beat a hasty retreat and once out of earshot could be heard by all the servants giving relief to huge bales of laughter.
That night, tossing and turning in his bed, Mr. Knightley came to a decision.
Okay, okay he did have a certain fondness for young Emma Woodhouse and it did hurt him to think of her marrying someone else.
So, he concluded, why not try for her hand?
(Ten miles away, as he came to this conclusion, Harriet Smith jumped in the air with delight, clapped her hands and shouted "YES!" - making sure that she would never utter the cringe worthy line "Mr. Elton had brown eyes too!"
The author cannot vouch for what she said years hence, after Robert Martin passed away.)
***
Two days later, and Emma, James and George are all sitting in James's study talking. Emma is wincing in pain.
Knightley has asked her three times if she is alright, and every time she has shot him an evil glance and sworn she is fine before looking worriedly at her father to see if he has heard.
Finally, James Woodhouse falls asleep.
"Emma. What is the matter?? Don't put me off and tell me you are fine, because I'm not blind"
"Fine" Emma grumbled "I fell down the stairs, but I really am alright, and I don't want papa to worry about me"
"Okay" he went back to reading his book, but ten minutes and a lot of uncomfortable moving later, he put his book down.
"Come here" he patted the seat beside him. Emma was puzzled but did as he said. When she was securely seated, he pulled her onto his knee, disregarding propriety, and assuring himself that 'all is fair in love and war'
"What are you doing?"
"Making you more comfortable, here, lean back here, see - do you feel more comfortable"
Emma emitted an adorable little sigh and settled back "Yes. Oh yes!"
Five minutes later
"Emma, put your book down, let's have a talk"
She put her book down, snuggled further into his shoulder and inhaled deeply. She really should have figured it out by now. But no, it would take something else.
George Knightley took one look at her face and decided to take the plunge.
"Emma?"
"Mmm?" She was too busy finally finding out what Mr. Knightley smelt like
"Sit up and listen to me, girl, I'm trying to get your opinion on something"
Finally Emma sat up, smiling "What is it?"
"I'm thinking of getting married" he pushed her back gently and looked into her face.
She paled
That was not a good sign.
She gulped
That was even worse
"Why?"
He was silent for a moment, and in those few seconds, her feelings were defined.
She finally knew. If Mr. Knightley went and married, everything would be destroyed. Everything. She had been content to stay single, but recently everything had changed. She didn't want to just spend her life matching other people up; she wanted her Mr. Knightley to be her husband. She wanted to be able to sit on his knee and talk about anything and everything within the bounds of propriety.
She didn't just want him as a friend. She wanted him as a lover.
And, with five words, he'd just destroyed her life.
"Emma??" he pushed back her hair "Are you listening to me? I was thinking - - "
"Don't!" she cried "Don't say it! Don't say something that will injure us both to say. Don't say it!"
The hurt in those brown eyes was immeasurable, and Emma felt her heart-breaking.
"Sorry, George, say what you want to say, I'm listening, and I'll always be here for you, no matter who you marry, or what happens to us"
"Emma, I'm not going to marry, I was only thinking about it. You see, there is this girl I know..."
Emma closed her eyes against the pain.
"...Caring, looks after her father, and has more patience than anyone I've ever known, and I love her so, so, much."
She opened her eyes. It was obvious. Shining out of his eyes was so much love.
It wasn't directed at her, he was thinking of that girl he knew who was so utterly unlike her. Emma knew her patience was thin at times, and sometimes she wasn't the most caring of people, but there was no need to rub it in!
"Well? Emma, say something!"
She looked into his eyes again, then away and glanced round the room. "I'm sure she'll make you very happy." tears sprang into her eyes and she made to get up.
"Say it!!" the Angel shouted to his sub-conscious
"Emma" George tightened his grip on her arms so she couldn't get away. "I love you. Can't you see it - I've been trying to tell you. Emma. Say something"
The light shining out of her eyes gave him her answer, and she reached up and touched her lips to his.
Love and sweet adoration were in that kiss, and although it only lasted three seconds, when they pulled away they were looking at one-another with shining eyes.
"Finally!!!!!" Mr. Woodhouse got up (the chances that he was really asleep appearing slimmer by the second) "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Okay, I get the hint, I'll just leave. Knightley, look after her"
He left the room.
"Emma"
"George"
And they resumed that pleasant occupation.
Thousands of miles above, an Angel Girl was dancing on her cloud, and turning a few select cartwheels. She stood up and dabbed her eyes.
"It's so beautiful" she said.
"It's a lovely story" Angel Boy agreed "But I still think the Darcys are a nicer couple. Oh, wait." He pulled her arm - "She's expecting a baby now!!!!!"
The End
