A/N: Yes, Mr. Knightley is quite stubborn about not making up with Emma – but I don't see that working out very well for him ;-)
Would love to hear your thoughts, as always!
John Knightley was, in many respects, a good son-in-law. He did have a sincere, long-standing regard for Mr. Woodhouse, and had a real respect for the older gentleman. And yet his fault was his easily irritable temper, which sometimes left him out of patience with his father-in-law's foibles. This fault was the reason Mr. Knightley's attention was focused with some anxiety on his brother rather than Emma.
In this way, dinner had proven to be a better distraction than he could have hoped; but as the conversation turned to Mr. Woodhouse's regrets that the London Knightleys had visited Southend instead of coming to Hartfield, he began to be sorry for what he had wished. For now it appeared that it might have been better if he had spent the meal consumed by thoughts of Emma; at least that would have affected only himself, whereas John's irritation had the potential to make things uncomfortable for everyone.
Emma attempted more than once to change the flow of the conversation, laughingly begging that they would not make her miserable and envious by discussing the seaside which she had never seen, attempting to ask her nephews what they had been doing in their lessons recently, but all in vain.
John was not to be deterred. 'If Dr. Perry can tell me,' he said in a voice of very strong displeasure, 'how to convey a wife and five children a distance of a hundred and thirty miles with no greater expense or inconvenience than a distance of forty, I should be as willing to prefer Cromer to Southend as he could himself.'
Throughout this tirade Mr. Knightley had been watching Emma, who looked anxious, and had opened her mouth once or twice as if about to attempt a change of subject, but then she closed it again, looking miserably down at her plate, words having failed her.
His heart went out to her, and he knew that he must attempt himself to calm his brother. 'True, true,' he said quickly to John as soon as he had stopped speaking. 'That is a consideration indeed. But John, as to what I was telling you earlier about moving the path to Langham...' and then he talked with some determination on the subject for a minute or two until he was sure that his brother's temper had cooled.
Then, unable to stop himself, he glanced over at Emma, only to find that she had been looking at him. The expression in her eyes was one of wonder, and profound gratitude. She gave him a small smile, and he had to look away.
He took a deep breath, and then sighed. He couldn't do this anymore – the longing to be friends again, the desire to be able to talk with her once more in the old way, to be able to share laughter and smiles, was overwhelming, and he could fight it no longer.
He knew that once dinner was over, he would seek her out and speak to her, make up their quarrel. For all her faults and errors of judgment, Emma had an affectionate heart and an excellent understanding, as she had through her actions reminded him today – perhaps if instead of reprimanding her, he made his point more gently, she would come around.
But right now he hardly cared if she wouldn't. All he wanted, more than anything was to take her hand in his and be assured that they were once more partial old friends.