A/N: Dear slytherinsal had made a comment in her last review regarding Emma and Agnes visiting each other after Agnes was settled. That was a completely reasonable and logical suggestion, had I not been trying to stick with canon that would have been a nice way to continue the friendship between the girls. However, since from the beginning of this story I've determined to stay close to canon, I thought I should make my assumption known to you excellent readers – With Mr. Woodhouse being the way he was, I've had this notion in my head since the first time I read JA's Emma that it was impossible for his daughters to travel away from him for any journey. The old father could not even reconcile to his son in law carrying his eldest daughter Isabella to merely sixteen miles away to London; I have to assume that his delicate spirit would never allow his youngest daughter Emma to travel the same or an even longer distance to visit her friend, and being the loving daughter that Emma was, she would never distress her father by insisting on such journey. And as for Agnes, since she was still to live a peasant's life, travelling afar would have been a luxury that she could hardly afford. Because of these reasons, Emma and Agnes, at this point in their lives, really had no chance to see each other. Hope my assumptions makes sense to you... and here's the new chapter...
Chapter Thirty-Six
Time passed pleasanter when one's spirit was gay. A se'nnight had brought Jane Fairfax to Highbury as promised. The anticipation of Highbury's favourite niece was not only bustling in the humble abode of the Bates, but also the elegant mansion of the Woodhouses. A dinner party shall be given in the honour of Miss Bates' dearly beloved niece at Hartfield. Invitations, handwritten handsomely by the young Hartfield Mistress's own delicate hands, were sent days before the expected arrival of Jane Fairfax. The party was to be an intimate affair, comprising of Mr. and Miss Woodhouse, Miss Taylor, Mrs. and Miss Bates, Mrs. Goddard, Mr. Knightley, and the guest of honour Miss Fairfax, a party of eight, no more, no less, which suited perfectly the fragile nerves of Mr. Woodhouse.
The day of the Hartfield dinner party had finally arrived; Emma had been up since dawn broke, hard at work with Miss Taylor and all her servants in preparing for the party with excitement. Though not unlike other dinner parties given at Hartfield where every design, every detail – from the courses on the dinner menu, the plan for placing of guests at the dinner-table, the writing of the names of the guests on small cards to be placed at that part of the table where it was desired the guest should sit, to the superintending of the placing of the many vases of flowers, the inspecting of the dusting, burnishing, and blacking of the leather, the furniture, and the banisters – was dutifully attended by the young Hartfield Mistress herself, Emma had put in extraordinary care to see to the preparations for this particular occasion to perfection.
At last, when all preparations were completed, two hours before the guests were to arrive, Emma sat down at the writing desk in the drawing room, where her father was dozing off for a brief before-dinner nap, seemingly engrossed in something of great import.
Miss Taylor noticed that Emma was buried behind a heap of books, writing studiously on a piece of paper, she could not help coming near her charge to ask, "Should not these books be put away before the guests arrive, my dear Emma?"
"Er... y-es... Miss... Tay-lor..." with her eyes running down a stack of books, Emma's attention was presently too fixed to the task to look up as she answered, "ah...as... soon as... I finish... my list... I shall put them... away..."
"List?" Miss Taylor was bewildered. "Have you not finished the list of guests, where they would sit long ago?"
"This... is... not... the same... list..." Emma replied absently, snapping one book close placing it on the stack to her left, searched for another from the stack to her right. Suddenly, her serious face broke into a smile, "Ah, there it is!" The fourteen-year-old wrote on the piece of paper, then repeating the same process of snapping the book close, placing it aside, looking for another one and writing something on her paper again.
Miss Taylor became exceedingly curious, she asked, "Then... what list is this Emma?"
Emma had just finished writing the last entry on the list; looking immensely pleased, she looked up at Miss Taylor with a glowing smile.
"This is the list of books that I thought Miss Fairfax and I could read together!" the fourteen-year-old supplied with excitement.
"Had not you drawn up a list of books to read with Miss Anderton several months ago, Emma? Why the need for a new list?" asked the governess.
"But Miss Taylor, the list I had with Agnes would not suit Miss Fairfax's taste! Agnes and I shared a great love for adventures, the books on that list consisted of mostly tales of pirates, travels, and adventures of all sorts, I doubt that Miss Fairfax would take as much pleasure in reading those books as we did, that old list would not do!"
The ink on the paper had dried, Emma lifted it up to show Miss Taylor, "See what you think of this..." handing the list to her governess, she added animatedly, "As Miss Fairfax is the granddaughter of the former vicar, I thought she might appreciate the works of Isaac Watts, the books on the top of the list are all his work. And Miss Bates has often said that Miss Fairfax loves poetry, I thought perhaps John Milton's poetries might suit her taste. See," running her slim white finger down the list, Emma pointed out, "the next set of books on the list was authored by Milton.
"Besides," the animated youth suddenly looked sheepish, "I have yet to read the 'Paradise Lost' that Mr. Knightley gave me long time ago... this would be the perfect opportunity for me to start reading it, do not you think, Miss Taylor?"
"Oh, Emma..." touched by Emma's meticulous thoughtfulness, Miss Taylor was near speechlessness.
"And the next set of books," Emma's animation returned, "is books of history that Mr. Knightley gave me on my birthdays and other occasions that I have not read. If Miss Fairfax appreciates poetry and literature, she must appreciate history of the world as well! Would not they make the perfect addition to our list, Miss Taylor?" the fourteen-year-old asked her governess with great expectations.
"Of course, my dearest Emma!" Miss Taylor, overcame by Emma's sincere intention, was gleaming with pride and joy.
"But," Miss Taylor had just noticed something, "what about the adventures that you love so much, Emma? If you and Miss Fairfax were to read together, you ought to read something that you like as well!"
"Of course, Miss Taylor!" Emma beamed, "You see," her finger pointing at the bottom of the page, "'Robinson Crusoe' is the last book on the list, of course we shall read my favourite as well!"
"Mrs. Goddard, Mrs. Bates, Miss Bates, Miss Fairfax," the Hartfield carriage had brought their dinner guests to Hartfield, one of the footmen came into the drawing room and announced.
"Oh! Good evening, Mr. Woodhouse, Miss Woodhouse!" Emerging immediately from behind the footman, Miss Bates curtsied and began her speech excitedly without a moment delay. "This is so kind of you to invite us; we have been looking forward to tonight since the invitation arrived! – Oh, Mr. Woodhouse, it works, it really works – Why, the Bagazet's Oriental Depilatory works! – Oh dear! Good evening Miss Taylor, I beg your pardon, how could I not see you when I came in! – What lovely flowers you have, Miss Woodhouse, so many candles in here, it is just heavenly, you see, I have always thought that heaven must be bright and cheery! – Oh, I would have brought Jane to see you before tonight, but on the day she arrived she was fatigued by the long journey, then the next few days she had caught cold – Yes, it was so very kind of you, Miss Woodhouse, the beef tea and arrowroot you sent helped so much, Jane has been better since! – Would you believe it Mr. Woodhouse, the hair above my upper lip is gone? GONE! The depilatory is magical! – Beg your pardon, Mr. Woodhouse, what did you say? – Oh, yes, Mother tried it, just as you recommended," the good vicarage daughter gave her mother a loving glance, "the hair sticking out of her ear is gone – And, so is yours, Mr. Woodhouse! – What was it Mother? – Yes, Mother says she is going to use it on her other ear – Goodness me, I ought to stop talking! What did you say again, Mr. Woodhouse? – Whitehead's Essence of Mustard Pills for rheumatisms, oh, how generous of you, my dear Mr. Woodhouse! Of course, Mother would love to try some as well!"
Standing behind her aunt, Jane Fairfax had been casting her eyes at her hands quietly. Miss Bates paused to take a breath, "Oh, Miss Woodhouse," speaking again, "you have not seen Jane for more than two years, I dare say you will not believe your eyes! When Mother and I saw her after so long, we almost could not recognize the child! She was this tiny little girl the last time she was come back, look how much, how pretty she had grown! Is not she a beauty?" The proud aunt was practically bursting with exhilaration, and the furious blushes on her niece had gone unnoticed by her. Moving a step aside, gently taking the young woman by the elbow, Miss Bates led Jane Fairfax several steps forward placing her in front of the Hartfield hosts.
Jane Fairfax's two years absence from Highbury had indeed brought great changes in her. It was like seeing Jane Fairfax for the first time. Had not she ever noticed Jane Fairfax's eyes, her hair before? Emma was not certain, but the image in front was startling to her – Jane Fairfax's dark hair cascading smoothly on her shoulders looked almost identical to the way Agnes wore her hair, and the deep grey eyes presently shimmering under the chandelier shared the same shade as the pair that Agnes possessed. Though the features on the young woman were more regular, and Jane was taller than Agnes, Emma was struck by how much Jane Fairfax reminded her of her lost friend!
Jane Fairfax's resemblance to Agnes was surely a welcomed surprise, thus the seed of desire to make a new friend that was already sprouting in Emma had now grown to full bloom. Emma moved a step closer to her guest, with great warmth and anticipation she curtsied and said, "How do you do Miss Fairfax? Welcome to Hartfield, I am so pleased that you have recovered in time to come this evening!"
"How do you do, Miss Woodhouse?" Jane Fairfax returned the curtsy demurely, "Thank you Miss Woodhouse, it is very kind of you to invite us to Hartfield tonight."
Half an hour before the commencement of dinner, all guests, except Mr. Knightley, were gathered in the drawing room exchanging pleasantries with one another. Miss Bates, without exception, was never short of Highbury's latest and littlest matters, of which Mr. Woodhouse, who seldom went from his armchair beyond the Hartfield shrubberies, enjoyed listening to no end. While her father, Miss Taylor and their lady-guests had formed a delightful circle with Miss Bates as the principal talker, Emma had invited Jane Fairfax to take seats with her by the window.
Unlike the circle of grown-ups in the middle of the drawing room from where sent chuckles and laughter pervading the room, the little corner by the window occupied by the two young ladies was very quiet – quieter than Emma would like. But as her desire for a new friend glowing brightly in her heart, Emma entreated Jane Fairfax to speak with subjects that she thought would interest the young woman.
"Miss Bates told us so much about the Campbells; they seem a very kind family! You have been with them for several years, how do you like living with the Campbells, Miss Fairfax?"
"Thank you, Miss Woodhouse, the Campbells are indeed very kind and I like living with them very much," replied Jane Fairfax politely.
"I remember the Campbells have a daughter, but cannot remember her age. Is she about your age, Miss Fairfax?"
"Yes, Miss Campbell and I are the same age, Miss Woodhouse."
"It must be lovely to have someone your age to keep you company, you and Miss Campbell must be like sisters! Even though Isabella and I are seven years apart, our age never presents as much as a tiny disparity between us, we love each other to pieces, Isabella and I have always been close! Are you and Miss Campbell close, Miss Fairfax?"
"Yes, Miss Campbell and I are close, Miss Woodhouse," was Jane's answer.
"Miss Bates told us that the Campbells travel very often, you must have travelled to many places by now. Do you have a favourite place, Miss Fairfax?"
"Ireland is my favourite place, Miss Woodhouse."
"Oh, Ireland!" recalling some of the letters Miss Bates had read to her and her father, Emma asked, "That is Mr. Dixons' homeland, is not it?"
Jane Fairfax suddenly swallowed, "Ah... yes..." averting her eyes, her reply was quiet, "Ireland is... where... Mr. Dixion... lives..."
Emma had noticed the colour on Jane Fairfax deepened, she was glad that the topic of Ireland had excited her guest; she thought she would speak more on this subject.
"Mr. Knightley had said that Ireland was a very beautiful country, I would love to see such a beautiful place for myself! What were some of the things that you, the Campbells, and Mr. Dixion did in Ireland, Miss Fairfax?" Emma asked with genuine interest.
"Ah... nothing... nothing extraordinary... just things... things that most people would do, Miss Woodhouse."
Emma was baffled! It was only a moment ago that the subject of Ireland had stirred Jane Fairfax's excitement, yet, now, from her uneasy tone, she could tell that her guest wished to speak no more on the matter!
In spite of her appearance had such a close resemblance to Agnes that it startled Emma at first, Jane Fairfax's temperament was nothing like Emma's old friend's, and Jane's reserved countenance, to the young mistress's regret, was still very much the same as she could remember. Nevertheless, as someone who very much wished to make a new friend, Emma was not about to give up so soon. The fourteen-year-old gathered up her natural alacrity and uncharacteristic resolve and tried again, "Ah, Miss Fairfax, what would you and Miss Campbell like to do to past time?"
"Humph," Jane Fairfax thought for a moment, "things that most young ladies would do, Miss Woodhouse."
"Such as..."
"We sing, we draw, we read..."
"Oh," Emma perked up instantly, "do you and Miss Campbell read together?"
"Occasionally..."
"How wonderful!" Emma blurted with exuberance, her hopeful smile brightened her entire person. "I was thinking, Miss Fairfax, that since Miss Bates often tells us how much you like to read, perhaps, if you would like... we could read together?"
"Read together?" The suggestion surprised Jane.
Out of her pocket, Emma produced the new book list that she had drawn up. "You see, I have made a list of books earlier today," feeling proud of her handy work, the fourteen-year-old handed the list to her guest with great expectation, "what do you think of this list, Miss Fairfax, do these books interest you?"
Jane received the booklist in her hands, studied it carefully for a moment. "This is a very nice list, Miss Woodhouse," praising her hostess sincerely, "the works of Mr. Watts and Mr. Milton are indeed some of my favourites."
"Then it is perfect!" Joy was overflowing on Emma's face. "We could read these books together, Miss Fairfax! I must admit that adventures are more to my taste, but I have been meaning to read these books for ages, would not it be excellent that we would read them together?"
"But... Miss Woodhouse..." looking reluctant, "I have already read all of the books on the list..." imparted Jane.
Though not the answer that Emma had expected, a little voice in her heart bade her to press on, "But... as they are your favourites... would not you wish to read them again?"
"Er... of course... Miss Woodhouse," Jane's already gentle voice now added timidity, "I would love to read them again; but... as I have only read them recently, I have not the intention to read them again so soon... but... if you would like to read... together... I... I would be... ah... happy... to..."
"Do not..." Emma muttered quietly, Jane Fairfax's hesitation was enough to plummet the fair mistress's hope, "Miss Fairfax..." she gently retrieved the book list from her guest, "reading together was only a fanciful notion that came from nowhere... as you have not the intention to revisit these books any time soon, pray do not feel obliged to read with me..."
Emma finished her speech softly, but the uneasy look on Jane Fairfax's face moved the gracious hostess in her looking for a way to sooth her guest's discomfiture. The fourteen-year-old summoned her animation and smiled at Jane. "You know, Mr. Knightley has always said that Distraction is my greatest fault, I am sure even if we were to read together, I would have gotten distracted and left you reading on your own! Come to think of it..." Emma gave Jane a knowing look, "I think it is best that we read on our own, at our own pace, do not you think, Miss Fairfax?"
Jane Fairfax nodded with an awkward smile, and each young lady drew a quiet deep breath; while Jane's eyes sought her hands in her lap, Emma's wandered to the clock on the wall.
To Emma's relief, the footman had just rung the bell; it was time for the dinner guests to move into the dinning-room.
When the guests began to form their pairs to exit the drawing room, Mr. Woodhouse shifted to speak to his daughter, "Emma my dear, Papa wants to listen to the rest of Miss Bates' story on Mr. Cutts catching the pork belly thief; would not you seat Miss Bates to my right?"
"Papa," Emma lowered her voice to speak to her father, "Miss Fairfax is our guest of honour; the seat on your right is for her. Perhaps Miss Bates could trade seat with Mrs. Bates and be seated on your left?"
"But my left ear is not good, Emma my dear, and Papa wants you on my left. I am feeling a little queasy tonight, it would make me feel better when you are near my dear!" the old father pleaded.
"But Papa," continued in keeping her voice low, the patient daughter explained, "as the hostess of our party, I shall be at the other end of the table..."
"Emma my dear, it would make Papa happy if you and Miss Bates are by my sides!" Mr. Woodhouse bade earnestly again.
"But Papa," feeling caught between a rock and a hard place, the dutiful daughter was growing anxious, "if I were on your left and Miss Bates on your right... where would our guest of honour be?"
"Miss Woodhouse," a gentle voice suddenly came from behind, Emma turned round, it was the voice of Jane Fairfax, who, while standing behind Mr. Woodhouse awaiting his escort to the dinning-room, had caught the exchanges between the father and daughter, the young woman said to her hostess, "My Aunt could take my seat."
"But Miss Fairfax," embarrassed, Emma replied hurriedly, "you are our guest of honour..." but she was promptly, and kindly, cut off.
"My whole life I have been indebted to my Aunt, it is really she who should be the guest of honour. Miss Woodhouse, pray allow my Aunt to take my seat," Jane Fairfax insisted sincerely.
Meeting her father's wishes had always taken precedence above all else in her life, Emma knew she hardly had other choices. "Then..." she said very gratefully, "I am obliged to you, Miss Fairfax – thank you!"
The clever fourteen-year-old immediately put her nimble mind to gyration, murmuring to herself as she formed the new seating arrangement in her head, "... I shall take Mrs. Bates' seat, Miss Taylor shall take mine, Mrs. Bates takes Mrs. Goddard's, Mrs. Goddard takes Miss Taylor's, then Miss Bates shall take Miss Fairfax's, Miss Fairfax takes Miss Bates'... and Papa and Mr. Knightley stay!"
And before her guests entered into the dinning-room, the young mistress had all the small seating cards on the dining table put in their proper places.
"I beg your pardon for my tardiness!" suddenly came in a gentleman's voice, musculine yet full of warmth and regards.
When everybody was just seated at the dining table, the last dinner guest, Mr. Knightley, had walked into the dinning-room, first taking his bows to his gracious host and hostess, then to the rest of the dinner guests.
The days that brought Jane Fairfax to Highbury had brought Mr. Knightley away from Hartfield. During the fortnight in London for the birth of his second nephew, the Donwell Master had been up to his brows with tasks (and William Larkins) awaiting his return. As spring was the season for calving, lambing, disposing of the remainder of his corn and fat cattle, selling of woods in thinning his plantation, and executing his plans for the fields in the proper times, the gentleman had foregone all visitations to tend his tasks with all his mind and body. However, not for all the treasures in the world would the Donwell Master have missed tonight's dinner party at Hartfield. No doubt, the gentleman would never wish to slight Miss Bates and her beloved niece as the party was given in their honour, but more importantly, the gentleman was excited for a chance to visit with his friends, particularly his young friend – Since that morning when Emma suddenly declared that she had a throbbing headache excusing herself abruptly amidst their conversations, Mr. Knightley had not spoken or seen his young friend. Although he did pay a brief call to Hartfield the morning after to inquire after Emma's health, it was his misfortune that she was taking her exercise in the shrubberies, the Donwell Master could not even afford the time to look for her in the shrubberies before he had to put the visitation to an end.
Several evenings later, when he returned to the Abbey from selling the reminder of his fat cattle to a landowner in a neighbouring village, Mr. Knightley was immensely pleased to have read the invitation from Hartfield. The gentleman reckoned that Emma must have reconsidered her decision on befriending Jane Fairfax, and he rejoiced that her gloomy mood would soon be dispelled. Today, all day long the Donwell Master had been out in the fields with William Larkins superintending his labourers on the seeding of forage crops and the building of a new permanent lambing-shed and a new shepherd's hut. He had barely enough time to return to the Abbey to bathe and change into his evening attire before coming directly to Hartfield.
Emma was overjoyed to see Mr. Knightley walking into the dining room; she had missed her friend over the past many days, and wished to ask him how many calves his cows had calved and how many adorable lambs the ewes had laid thus far, and listen to all his exciting calving and lambing tales. She had purposely arranged tonight's seating so that Mr. Knightley and Miss Taylor, her two favourite people in this world other than her father and sister, to be by her sides, but now that her initial plan had been thrown out the window, she could only sighed and watched, disappointingly, when Mr. Knightley took his seat next to Jane Fairfax's, far away from hers.
As expected, dinner was progressing excellently, though the sight of Serle's rich culinary creations had not helped the queasiness in the old master's stomach, Mr. Woodhouse had turned his cringed eyes away from the lavished meal centring his attention on his dish of thin gruel and the very small egg boiled very soft as well as Miss Bates' amusing stories, and kept his lamentable disgust of indigestive food at bay. To the Hartfield cook's delight, his Spring Julienne Soup, Brill and Lobster sauce with Fried Fillets of Mackerel, Lamb Cutlets and Cucumbers, Roast Fillet of Veal, Asparagus, Ducklings and Gooseberry Tart had won glorious praises from all the dinner guests. Chatters and clatters were abounding at the table, laughter and mirth the greatest compliments to the host and hostess of the event, the dinner was an undeniable success in the eyes of the partakers – except – for Emma!
Though Emma was not suffering from stomach queasiness, the young mistress did not find dinner nearly as pleasurable as her guests. Just this afternoon, when her maid placed the large vase of beautiful flowers in the centre of the dining table, Emma had stood there for minutes admiring the beauty of nature, sighing over the many hues of violet nature could produce. But now, the fourteen-year-old was inwardly cursing the flowers for obscuring her view of Mr. Knightley. All because of the ridiculously large Lilac in the middle of the table, not a nod, a gaze, or even an amusing smile could be exchanged between her and her grown-up friend!
Though her view of her grown-up friend was obscured, the view of her guest of honour was not. While, before dinner, Emma had failed miserably to draw her guest of honour out, enticing her to read with her, Mr. Knightley, sitting next to Jane Fairfax, had been eliciting many delightful conversations from the young woman. Emma could clearly see the prettily heightened colour on Jane Fairfax's face as she listened demurely to Mr. Knightley's speeches. Several times she could even distinguish the voice of the reserved young woman amidst the chattering and clattering drowning the dining room. Despite that the young mistress could not decipher the content of their speeches, reckoned that Mr. Knightley must be accounting the number of fat cattle he had sold from his remainder and the tales of adorable calves and ewes already happened this spring to Jane Fairfax, the fourteen-year-old was growing envious of her guest, wishing that it was she who was sitting next to the Donwell Master!
At last, deserts were served, the young mistress was grateful that dinner was over.
"This evening has not gone as I thought..." Emma sighed in her heart, she hoped that the remainder of the night would be better!
A/N: Thank you for reading! :-)