A/N: Instead of whining about those who haven't reviewed, I shall thank those who have: Lia06, Katie Duggan's Niece, millernumber1, iambbq, indianpipe, barus, TenFour, Drifting One, JamSack, mystic fire demon, Abi, asianinvasion0530, SakuraCherryBlossem, iloveerik, c., cherrycherrybomb, toffeema, Emily31594, hots4harry73, RebbElisa, bookworm1137, chiquitin517, greypilgrim26, Morganelafe and karenalma – thank you all so much for taking the time to review!
Now if only all of you could review each chapter, then I would die happy ;-). Hope you guys enjoy this one!
Chapter Seven – Smiles and Sacrifices
Mr. Knightley's heart skipped a beat as he took in the beaming, joyful, loving smile on Emma's face as she saw him ride up to the party. How many weeks he had longed for just such a smile from her, yet never daring to hope that such looks and such sincere affection were so shortly – if at all – to be his! He truly was the most fortunate man on earth.
Stopping some paces from them, he dismounted and walked over, leading Bessie beside him, never taking his eyes off Emma as he approached. For a moment they simply stood smiling at one another, but then they roused themselves.
It would not do from him to behave as he wished and simply stand grinning idiotically at her – something she seemed to realise at the same instant, for at that moment, just as he greeted the rest of the party and began to listen with even a degree of pleasure to Miss Bates' account of Miss Woodhouse's kindness for the past several years in general and that morning in particular, Emma immediately turned to Jane Fairfax and drew her into conversation.
Thankfully nobody seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, and he inwardly sighed in relief. It would not do to have all around them conjecturing before they had appraised Mr. Woodhouse of the news.
And yet it was so difficult to conceal his love for Emma now that he knew it was returned – not a minute ago the urge to take her hand had been almost irresistible, to say nothing of the desire to kiss those smiling lips until they both couldn't breathe...
How he hated concealment of any kind – how he loved all that was decided and open! He did not know how Churchill and Miss Fairfax could have borne keeping such a secret for nigh on eight months. Glancing at Churchill, who looked perfectly cheerful, his expression hardened slightly – well, no doubt he would have found that it did not weigh too heavily on his conscience, but what of Miss Fairfax? From what he knew of her character, he thought he would always be astonished that she had allowed it to continue.
Looking over at her, he was glad to see that she and Emma were engaged in conversation; glad also to see the genuine smile on one's face and the state of animation – or as close to it as Jane Fairfax would ever reach – in the other.
Miss Bates too seemed to observe with pleasure the real friendship which Emma was displaying to Jane and which Jane could not but respond to with warmth. 'What a pleasant party this is,' she sighed happily, and then she looked around at everyone. 'We are all here, are we not? Oh – except for the Eltons, of course! How could I forget them? So silly of me, especially when Mrs. Elton has been so kind to Jane. I wonder what is delaying them – I do hope nothing has happened–'
She did not have to remain wondering for long, and nor did the rest of them, because they could now plainly see the Eltons' carriage approaching. It was only as it came closer that Mr. Knightley observed something odd about it: its movement was jerky and slow, and the horses kept stopping, only starting again at the coachman's insistence.
As the conveyance finally struggled up to the rest of the party, Mr. Knightley saw what was the matter the second he saw one of the horses, foaming at the mouth from its exertion and holding its right foreleg off the ground and protectively close to its body.
The horse was very obviously not recovered from the injury which had caused the postponement of the first Box Hill trip. It was ridiculous – not to mention downright cruel – of the Eltons to expect it to manage the journey all the way to Box Hill.
Frowning, he stepped forward, and instead of handing Mrs. Elton out as she had seemed to expect if the miffed expression on her face was any indication, he went straight to the horse. 'Poor girl,' he said softly, stroking its nose. 'Are you in a great deal of pain? Will you let me look at your leg?' Very slowly, so as not to frighten it, he ran his hand down its flank and to its leg, all the while speaking to it in a quiet, low voice. The horse, whose eyes had been rolling in pain and unease, soon calmed in the presence of the man with the soft voice and gentle hands.
Mr. Knightley's expression darkened as he determined the extent of the injury from the way the horse's limb twitched involuntarily under his hands. How could the Eltons be so thoughtless as to put the poor creature through this for their petty pleasures? Straightening, he dug about in his pocket for the sugar lumps he usually had about him for Bessie, and extracting one, he offered it to the horse, and giving it one last pat, he turned back to the rest of the party.
'I'm afraid your horse will hardly be able to walk home, let alone pull your carriage all the way to Box Hill – if you make her try it before she has fully recovered, she could be permanently crippled,' he said to the Eltons, so firmly that their protests died on their lips.
'How provoking!' cried Mrs. Elton petulantly. 'Then we cannot go today either.'
The dismay this statement produced in the party was instantaneous: Churchill began grumbling about coming all the way from Richmond for nothing, Miss Bates was effusive about what a pity it was, even jovial Mr. Weston looked put out, and Emma...
Though she said nothing, he could practically see her wilt. He knew how long and how much she had looked forward to this trip, which was to be her first glimpse of the wide world outside of Highbury.
If only politeness did not oblige them to abandon their expedition for the sake of the Eltons – if only he and Emma could rubbish conventions and ride Bessie together and see Box Hill for themselves...
Bessie. Bessie the horse. Bessie the healthy, uninjured horse. 'We can go,' he said suddenly.
Eight pairs of eyes looked at him hopefully, but then Mrs. Elton triumphantly said to her husband, 'You see, Mr. E? The horse is not so badly injured after all – even Knightley agrees with me.'
He shook his head, trying not to smile as he observed out of the corner of his eye Emma's bristling indignation at Mrs. Elton's familiar use of his name. 'Certainly not, Mrs. Elton – I stand by my opinion that your horse will never make it to Box Hill.' He held out a hand to Bessie as he next spoke. 'But she is not the only horse here.'
He began to lead his own mare over to the Eltons' carriage. 'My Bess is almost of a size with your other horse, and although she is a riding horse she has had some experience pulling my brother John's children about in a gig.' With the coachman's assistance, he began to free the poor injured horse from its harness in order to establish Bessie in its place. 'She is an intelligent creature,' he continued, 'and I'm sure she will quickly learn what she does not already know.'
Mrs. Elton was in a dilemma: she was reluctant to allow that anyone – even the good-natured, if rather eccentric Knightley – could know more than she did about what her horses were capable of; and yet she really did wish to go to Box Hill, something which a tiny sensible voice inside her told her would not be possible if she insisted on making her injured horse travel.
Mr. Knightley was amused to see the warring feelings of vanity and rare common sense play out on her face, and by the time she acceded, bravely attempting to make it seem as if the idea had been all her own, the rest of the party had already chimed in their hearty approval with exclamations of 'Capital idea!' and 'Why didn't I think of that?'.
He only had to look at Emma and see her glowing cheeks and eyes which were luminous with delight, to know that he had made the right decision – that the sacrifice of giving up his ride to instead share a carriage with the Eltons was worth every annoyance it would occasion.
Some moments later, after having sent the Eltons' coachman to walk the injured horse over to the stables at the Crown where it could gain some much-needed rest, he stood beside their carriage, making sure that Bessie was comfortable with the unfamiliar feeling of the harness attached to her. The Eltons had thankfully left him to it without feeling the need to give him the dubious benefit of their advice, and had gone to stand about with the rest of the party as they waited for the coachman's return.
Emma had come up to stand beside him on Bessie's other side, and she began to stroke the horse's nose. 'Bessie is a wonderful horse,' she said, her eyes smiling up at him. 'She has saved our expedition to Box Hill.' As she stroked the horse's nose, her fingers brushed his. 'I know she cannot enjoy pulling the Eltons to Box Hill, and I am most sincerely grateful that she will do so nevertheless.' He began to smile, and his smile widened considerably at her next words. 'How I could kiss her!'
He raised an eyebrow, amused and yet curious to know what she would do. 'Then do,' he said softly.
Emma glanced quickly around behind them where the rest of the party were milling around, for the moment not attentive to what they were doing by the carriage, and then she turned her shining eyes towards him, taking a step closer. His eyes widened. She wouldn't... would she?
Then, quickly, before he had time to react, she bent her head to place a sound kiss on his hand which had been resting against Bessie's nose. Then, before he could collect himself enough to say anything in response, with one last mischievous smile, she was off to join the Westons and Jane Fairfax.
Watching her go, he could not help the absurdly happy smile which spread across his face.
