Friends of Highbury
Premise: This story is focused on a young Emma, starting off when she is 15, the first chapter is in the Fall of 1809 (I used the publication date of Emma, and treat the novel as if it takes place in real time).
This story will play with ages in order to make it more appropriate. In Emma's time, it wouldn't have been at all uncommon for a 17-18-year-old to marry a much older man. Men had to make their fortune first or be in a position to support a family. And once they were (usually in their mid-30s) they were often married to women 10-15 years younger than them. The early 19th century was a different time. The 16 year age gap depicted in Emma wouldn't have been a rarity.
That said I didn't feel super comfortable with having a 15-16-year-old Emma pinning after a 30-31-year-old George Knightley.
So I have played with ages. I don't think this will change much but hopefully make us feel a little more at ease. Emma is 15, Isabella is 17, John Knightley is 19 and George Knightley is 23. I reduced the age difference by half and placed Isabella and John somewhere in the middle.
Another decision is that I've kept the Senior Mr. Knightley alive. Basically, I don't want George to inherit the title and responsibility of Donwell just yet.
This is also a Crossover but it will be listed under Emma as it has the most to do with Emma and I don't like how the site classifies Crossover works all secluded in their own dark corner of the site. Boo.
I'll include a list at the end of each chapter with any cameo characters from other books.
Friends of Hartfield
Chapter 1
Fall was Emma's absolute favorite time of year. It was something about the smells that wafted through the halls nearest the Hartfield kitchen, rich and robust, full of promise with hints of nutmeg, cinnamon, and thyme.
It wasn't just that, she couldn't deny that it had not escaped her notice that the eldest son of her Knightley neighbors was at liberty to call more often on her father as well.
The summer days had stretched out far and wide, the estate was busy with all the ongoing of the harvest season leaving spans of days between neighborly visits as long as the swaths of barley during harvest. Yes, Emma liked Fall very much.
Pumpkins. Emma realized she also liked pumpkins— not half as much as she liked George Knightley's company but she certainly adored the one he'd brought her.
It was better called a gourd but it was so tiny and flecks of lime green and yellow against the deep forest green colour of the pumpkin.
She couldn't help but think that if she had more of them she would make an arrangement of them for the table in the front parlor. As she only had the one she placed it on her bedside table next to her candle so that she would catch glimpses of it night and day.
The bright colours of the leaves also added to her delight—chartreuses both green and yellow, ornate reds and radiant copper oranges. If the vibrant colour pallet appealed to Emma, so did the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.
It was truly Fall.
She felt so gleeful when the harvest began to come to an end, as she would see her Knightley neighbour every other day again.
He had spoken to her father the previous evening over soup and buttered rolls.
"Surely Emma and Isabella must be allowed to attend,"
She watched from the other side of the room as her father shook his head.
"It's much too draughty for the girls to be out of doors, and at night no less! No. No, certainly not."
"But Isabella did attend last year, I believe the weather was near enough the same and she had an enjoyable time. We host a celebration at the end of the harvest every year and I would be remiss if I did not invite our nearest neighbours. I'm not asking for a decision right away, but at least promise me that you will consider it,"
Her father nodded rather gruffly, he'd consider it. And that was a very good deal from him, for he seldom reconsidered where matters of health were concerned.
"Many other young people from Highbury families will be there," George promised, "It is going to be an enjoyable evening,"
"Yes, yes, I will consider it," he replied.
"Please, might we go?" Emma begged, giving her best doe-eyed look to her father. She has been listening to the invitation and had been waiting for it eagerly. She remembered exactly how heartbroken she had been last year when Isabella had been invited and she had not.
"I have told you, Emma, I will think about it," her father repeated, it was the same line he had been offering each time, for this was not her first attempt at pleading her case.
"George says there will be ever so many people there," she said, "not just from Highbury but friends from other places, it will be such a grand opportunity to meet others and make acquaintances."
"Strangers?" he father echoed with more of a surprise than disapproval.
"Well, we must think of them as friends we simply have not met yet!" Emma insisted cheerfully. "After all, any friends of the Knightleys may be friends of ours,"
"Well, I also have it on good authority that a certain Knightley brother will be there," Isabella prompted, speaking directly to Emma, "I recall how much you enjoy seeing him, and I'm sure you have heard by now that John will be coming back from University for a few days!"
Emma tittered, "I have heard that but I think you confuse me for another Woodhouse sister," she said the last part under her breathe to allow it to be heard by Isabella but out of her father's earshot.
Isabella ignored her comment, "It would be such a pity not to have the opportunity to see him while he is back. And I did have such an enjoyable time last year," Isabella offered.
"You did have a cold after, and then I did regret it, besides, I'm sure John Knightley will be in Highbury until the weekend, you will certainly see him at church," he told her.
"I had a cold in December father, which was several months afterward; it can be hardly blamed on the Knightley's harvest party!" Isabella reflected.
"Yes, yes. I'll consider it; I've told George Knightley that, I've told you both, I'll consider it and I'll give my answer."
Dear George Knightley,
Father is still saying no.
Oh and I do thank you for inviting me to your harvest party this year. Perhaps I ought to have begun the letter with that, but in the interest of not wasting a page, you'll forgive my oversight, I do not have occasion to write many letters.
Thank you for the invitation, but my father is not willing to budge on the topic and it is looking like the prospect of my attending your party is grim at best.
I know you are a busy man and have other things to consider but if you did have the time, you might not be remiss in asking again to see if you might convince him. Although, you may have better things to do, for I realize I am just one individual and there are many other guests, which will likely make the time as enjoyable regardless of what happens in my case.
It is the party that I have been so looking forward to all year, Isabella was able to attend last year, only just turned sixteen. And I will soon enough be sixteen; I think it should hardly signify at all. But father, he likens this party to a ball—I have urged that it is not that sort of party at all. It is very much not the same thing, and yet because I have not been introduced out into society yet, he feels it would be impossible for me to attend, but has given Isabella his agreeance.
You cannot know how devastating and unfair that feels. For is it my fault that my own birthday is not until Christmas while hers was in June? I have been promised to attend the first ball in the New Year, and that is only short months away, it seems wholly unfair that I should be denied attendance to your event which is nothing like a ball. How can it be that I will be permitted to attend that event which is a real ball, and yet will be denied to attend a small gathering that is a picnic and outdoor activities with friends a few months prior? And hosted by our nearest neighbour and dear friends, whose estate I have visited many times? It all seems entirely illogical and completely unjust!
I digress.
If you see it fit to try to advocate on my behalf and attempt to convince my father, I would be overjoyed.
Your dear friend,
Emma Woodhouse
Contest to name George and John's father!
a. Richard
b. William
c. James
d. Alexander
e. Other (Your suggestion)
Also, this is a new story plot that I am thinking on (I am currently writing chapter 24 for DCH but wanted to get a chapter posted on this one first!)
Leave a review if you like the premise!