For a moment Emma just stared, down at the man who was smiling at her.
"Emma!"She never heard her name was addressed this deliciously all her life.
"Mr. Knightley!" She murmured.
"Are you injured?"
"No, not the slightest! You stay still, don't move, I call the doctor!"Emma bolted out suddenly, stormed out and fleetingly back again, leaving a bewildered Mr. Knightley rolling his eyes busily following her.
"Mr. Knightley, you have a great many bruises on the right side of your body, a fractured right arm and six broken ribs, besides those, do you feel unwell elsewhere?" Emma bent to him and asked most eagerly.
Mr. Knightley's pretending to be scared and recoil made her chuckle, but was not enough to remove her anxiety which led him to obey her resignedly. He took a few deep breaths, squirmed exaggeratedly under the covers, and winced at the direct consequences, but gave a satisfying assurance, "No, I don't think so."
Emma let a long-holding breath out, slumped down into the chair, buried her face in the sheet beside his arm and sobbed.
"Emma, I'm fine. Don't cry." Mr. Knightley stroked her hair gently.
"I'm not crying." Emma looked up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, managed a smile at her dear Mr. Knightley. "But I'm truly sorry for putting you in this condition. I don't know what will become of me if anything happens to you."
"Emma," Mr. Knightley wiped away a tear from her cheek, "You ought to know this was not your fault, it's that possessed carriage should be blamed. And you must know I can never forgive myself if anything happens to you."
"But…" Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door, Dr. Perry arrived much sooner than Emma had expected.
"I was about at the gate when I met your man."Emma expressed her deep gratitude to the kind doctor and went out of the door, leaving room for his examination of Mr. Knightley.
Ten minutes later Emma was utterly relieved when Dr. Perry reassured that Mr. Knightley suffered no internal injuries, and it would be only a matter of time for him to be fully recovered. "I won't say it's all lucky, Mr. Knightley's consciousness and strong muscles prevented him from any fatal injuries. I believe in a month he will be as lively as he used to be."
"I have left a prescription for the pain and wounds, milk and bone soup can help his healing." Emma nodded earnestly on the instructions, seeing Dr. Perry downstairs.
When she came back, a house maid was approaching the room carrying a tray of food. Emma took it from her and carried it in herself. "Riley is here, but he was up all night so I sent him to sleep in the morning."
Emma put the tray on the night table, and then got in a dilemma. She just realized that it's not possible for Mr. Knightley to sit straight for now. She could only pile up a few pillows against the headboard and help him carefully up a little leaning on them. In this posture he could surely not eat by himself, let alone with a fractured right arm.
Emma flushed deeply but did not hesitate for long. She picked up the soup bowl and sat on the bed, eyes focusing on her own hands, "I'm sorry to offend your independence, but if you don't mind…"
Mr. Knightley was perfectly aware that he should not accept Emma's offer. And he knew well too that Emma knew it's improper for her to do so. But he also knew it was her nature that she would take all of the blame for the accident and humble herself to do anything to make amends.
He shouldn't. But, it was Emma, right? His handsomest, dearest, sweetest Emma. Someone might resist such seduction, a saint or something of that sort. But it was definitely not him. He would give anything for Emma's least attention, let alone this kind of intimacy. Damn the propriety.
Emma's crimson drained out at the humiliated silence. She bit her lower lip hardly, regretting putting forward such a stupid proposal. What would he think of her? Had she sunk further in his opinion after all those evil mistakes she had made during the past few months? She felt she could no longer stand this, maybe the sooner she disappeared the better.
As she was about rising to her feet and escaping from the room, a warm hand grabbed her slender wrist, "Where are you going, Emma?" Emma lifted her eyes, meeting another pair filled with a mixture of anxiety and desire. "I'm starved." Emma relaxed and grinned at the last word, spooning out a spoon of pottage to his lips.
She suffered an extreme shyness, colored again when shuttled her hand mechanically, daring not look up at his eyes even once. And he stared obsessively at her, her bright eyes, pink cheeks, soft lips… forgetting to open his mouth time and again.
The sweet torture came to an end after an apple pie was wiped out. Emma exhaled deeply and stood up.
"I believe I can eat a little more." Mr. Knightley protested.
"No, Dr. Perry said you shouldn't eat too much at one time."
"All right, then when may I have my next meal?"
Emma shot him a mock-annoyed look, turning around before chuckling delightedly.
It was still too early for Mr. Woodhouse to get up. Emma sent her maid for the newspapers to entertain Mr. Knightley who had lain back down comfortably and glanced curiously around the room.
"I'm sorry for taking the liberty of taking you here. It may not be as convenient to you as at Abbey."
"No Emma, I much prefer to be at Hartfield. What a pitiful creature I would be if lying solitarily down at Abbey with no one caring about and attending to me."
"Nonsense, how can that be? You are the master of Donwell, the entire household will revolve hastily around you like the earth does to the sun."
"But I don't want to be the sun of them," He paused and then added. "I want a sun of myself."
Emma had no much time to ponder what he meant as the maid had come back with the latest newspapers. In the following one or two hours Emma read aloud and they discussed fervently the news and the expansions and the associations as they did in the past many years, only it was usually Mr. Knightley who performed the reader.
When Mr. Knightley fell asleep again on account of both tiredness and the side effect of the drugs, Emma went downstairs to see if her father had risen and accompany him on breakfast. Mr. Woodhouse was quite consoled while hearing Mr. Knightley was out of danger, and gave a great deal of compassion and opinions on how to care for him.
After breakfast Mr. Knightley woke again. Mr. Woodhouse went to see him and spent their daily morning together before excused himself for his afternoon nap habit.
When Emma was left alone in the room, Mr. Knightley immediately announced that he was hungry, although just a moment ago he had declined Mr. Woodhouse's suggestion of some tea. Emma rolled her eyes but would by no means reject his demands.
She behaved much more naturally this time, even could laugh at him when wiping away a crumb from the corner of his lips. "Maybe I have your father to thank for."
"For what?"
"You're extremely good at taking care of people."
"May I take this as a compliment?"
"That's exactly what I am saying."
"Aha, it is very rare from you. I can hardly recall when I had ever got your last one."
Before Mr. Knightley could speak something to protest, their attentions were caught by a horse's whinny. He frowned and she raised her eyebrows, approaching the window to verify her guess. "it's John."
"You wrote to Isabella?"
"Even Dr. Perry couldn't tell when you would wake up yesterday, and John is your only brother. Sorry I acted without your being consulted."
"You must be worried, I suppose?"
"Could never be too much."
John had come to the second floor. Mr. Knightley cheered himself a little up, and Emma went to the corridor to receive him. John's anxiety blew away when he strode into the room and caught sight of Mr. Knightley who was leaning against a pile of pillows, smiling archly at him.
"You well?"
"You can say so. A few broken ribs. Nothing serious."
"I'm sorry John, it's my fault."
"Emma! I have told you it was not your fault. It's that carriage or the coachman who had committed the offence." Emma was taken aback by the sudden change of Mr. Knightley's emotion, he sounded almost angry.
"But…"
"No buts Emma, I suppose you do not want to quarrel with me in this situation."
"All right, I'm sorry. You calm down please."
"I can see you are truly well, still have energy to fight with Emma."
Both of the other two rolled their eyes.
"I do not mind you are here, but please don't trouble Isabella and the children next. According to Dr. Perry, I'll be completely fine in at most one month."
John struggled and shrugged, "Fine, the children will only trouble you."
Emma inquired after her sister and the children and then went to talk to the house keeper about dinner and other matters, leaving the two brothers alone to chat.
…
Mr. Knightley had never found before that Hartfield's dinner was this insipid. He could hardly swallow it.
"Do you want me to bring some refreshments from Abbey, Sir? Of course that will be very rude. Please forgive me, Sir."
"Hush. I just have no appetite. I have dined here more than at home I believe."
"It's very true, Sir. I beg your pardon again."
"Take it easy, I won't reproach you for that." Riley was diligent and smart, Mr. Knightley trusted and liked him. But when could Emma extricate herself from the family dinner and came back to him?
His single desire was over-satisfied soon. The whole small party finished their dinner quickly and spent the rest of the evening in his room. Mr. Woodhouse and John played backgammon at the table placed near the door while Emma sat by the bed, reading a book to him.
Mr. Woodhouse retired first due to his fear of late hour. Considering Mr. Knightley's health condition, John and Emma retired soon after.
"Emma." When Emma was about to close the door, Mr. Knightley called and stopped her. Emma took a pause and went back to his side.
"I apologize for my manner in the afternoon, I was not angry with you."
"I knew. You do not want John to hate me."
"Not only. I truly want you to know that this was not your fault."
"All right, I promise you I will never say so again." Emma smiled compliantly at him.
Mr. Knightley sighed, only not say so! But wasn't it one of the reasons why he loved her so much?
"Good night, Mr. Knightley."
"Good night, Emma!"