First Names

EMMA

She only called him George once. It should be made clear that after Isabelle and John were wed and moved to London for his work Mr. Knightley continued the brothers' daily routine of walking from Donwell to Hartfield to see the Woodhouses. Life had a regularity to it that Emma simply loved. She'd do lessons with Miss Taylor in the morning, have luncheon, and then spend the afternoon on household matters or practicing her pianoforte or sketching. Mr. Knightley would arrive by mid-afternoon, talk with her father and write any letters her Father needed to be written, then he would sit in his chair and read. He'd often stay for dinner. If Emma went out to make calls or go to the store he was there when she got back. And so at only 13 years old she found herself on very close terms with a man twice her age.

She was naturally precocious and Mr. Knightley's presence simply (and unbeknownst to him) augmented that precocity. He was an incessant tease and a true critic and Emma almost despised him for it. He was always saying things like: "You played that piece like you were running a race" when she would practice the pianoforte or "Well, now, that ribbon does make all the difference" when she held things up to fix her hair. He'd harp on her whenever she complained about how she was stuck at home and it was on one such occasion that she first called him by his Christian name.

"Clara Bening and her family are moving to London." Emma sighed as she plopped onto the sofa in a very unladylike manner after returning from calls one sunny afternoon. Miss Taylor gave her a severe look and Emma righted herself. Mr. Knightley didn't look up from the paper he was reading.

"I said the Bening Family are moving to London." Emma leaned forward to catch his eye.

Mr Knightley look up briefly said simply "I heard you the first time" and then went back to reading.

Emma huffed and sat back on the couch, staring at the ceiling for a time before commenting in a low tone "It simply isn't fair."

Mr. Knightley looked up and an odd look passed between him and Miss Taylor. The latter shrugged slightly and then nodded her head towards her young charge. Mr Knightley sighed and closed his paper.

"What is so unfair Emma?"

Emma sat bolt up and looked him in the eye. "That everyone gets to go to far off places and I stay here. I haven't seen Isabelle in several months."

Mr. Knightley rolled his eyes at her. "Some people are just meant to stay in one place longer that others are. You are one of those people Emma."

Emma stood up so she was eye to eye with him and crossed her arms "Easy for you to say, George, you go to London all the time."

Mr. Knightley blinked for a beat and then shook him head. "For business, Emma, not for fun."

"I don't see what difference it makes." She huffed then marched out of the room and sat down at the pianoforte. She'd didn't play it well but that didn't mean she didn't like to. She placed her hands appropriately on the keyboard and let out all of her emotions pour into her music. Some people were simply infuriating.

"That came out well." Mr Knightley stood in the doorway to the music room.

"Thank you, Mr. Knightley." She replied. A look came into his eyes that Emma couldn't place but then it was gone. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"If I am invited." He replied with a smile.

"You are always invited. I'll tell Ellen to set you a place." Emma got up and brushed past him to go to the dining room. He patted her head as she passed and Emma noticed that although she was getting taller he was still a good head and a half taller than she. Perhaps she'd always need to tilt her head back in order to look him in the eye.

GEORGE

He called her Emma all the time.

Sometimes it was in a sentence such as:

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"You can not be serious Emma."

"And just where are you headed Emma?"

Sometimes it was accompanied with her last name as in:

"Emma Woodhouse, does your Father know what you're up to?"

"Emma Woodhouse, that is not the way a lady talks."

or just plain: "Emma Woodhouse!"

Sometimes it was said all by itself. "Emma." As when he needed her full attention or when she surprised him or when he wanted to surprise her or when he was happy to see her.

To George Knightley, Emma Woodhouse's name was a curse and prayer that he uttered more often than he could ever hope to count.