Mr. Elton returned to Highbury one week after news of his marriage had circulated through the town though no one had yet laid eyes on his new bride. As Mr. Elton was the vicar it would be expected that his wife be in attendance when he delivered his sermon and when Emma and her father arrived at the church that Sunday, she seated herself beside Harriet in order to provide support for what she knew was going to be a difficult introduction.
Once everyone had been seated, the sound of heels clicking against the stone floor drew the congregation's attention to the back of the church. Mrs. Augusta Elton moved with purposeful steps down the aisle, her shoulders back and head held high, and her reddish-blonde hair fell in ringlets that were dramatically arranged around her head. Her brown eyes slid around the room while a haughty smile turned up the corners of her mouth. She was obviously very pleased to be the center of attention and took her seat in the first row of pews with exaggerated movements.
Mr. Elton had watched his wife's procession with satisfaction and he proceeded to give his sermon which Emma found to be very dull, indeed. How had she failed to notice what a distasteful man Mr. Elton was? She supposed in some way she should be glad this all happened since Harriet had undoubtedly been saved from what would have been a very unhappy marriage had Mr. Elton had any inclination towards her.
Despite wishing to the contrary at the moment, Emma knew that manners dictated that as each person leave the church they would be obliged to stop and pay their respects to the vicar and his bride. Emma felt some pride in her friend as Harriet held her composure and offered her congratulations to the couple. Encircling her arm through Harriet's, Emma smiled at the Eltons and attempted to shield Harriet from their sight.
"My dear, this is Miss Woodhouse," Mr. Elton nodded toward Emma.
"Charmed, I am sure," Mrs. Elton inclined her head.
"Welcome to Highbury, Mrs. Elton. Though it is not as large as London I believe you will find it to be quite lovely."
Mrs. Elton's only response was a small smile that appeared to be rather forced. Unsure as to what she could have possibly said to receive such a cold reply, Emma moved forward with the rest of the crowd.
When they were out of earshot of the Eltons, Harriet gave her a grateful smile, "Thank you, Miss Woodhouse. You have been so kind to me through all of this."
Ignoring the stab of guilt at Harriet's words, Emma pulled her friend along, "I would like to remark that you handled yourself with great poise and dignity when speaking to the Eltons."
Harriet looked down with modesty, "I do not know that I could have done so without you beside me."
"Of course you could have. We must do something about this horrid lack of self-confidence you possess," Emma jokingly wagged a finger at her friend and was pleased when Harriet released a joyful laugh. For the moment it seemed that her friend could be at ease despite the presence of the Eltons in Highbury.
However, as the next two weeks progressed Emma could not help but form a hearty dislike of the new Mrs. Elton. As both a bride and the newest resident of Highbury, Mrs. Elton along with her husband were the guests of honor at a number of social gatherings and formal dinners. Emma was, of course, invited to each and every occasion where she was able to become more familiar with Mrs. Elton and some of her more vulgar traits. She was often commenting on the differences between the social circles she moved in while in London and the ones in Highbury along with pointing out what she considered to be faux pas in the conduct of the people around her, though she very politely excused these failings since, as she put it, "The citizens of such a quaint country village could not be expected to know about proper etiquette."
Emma was greatly affronted by these observations and her shock at the lady's behavior only grew with each personal interaction she had with her. Among the list of thinly veiled insults was Mrs. Elton's surprise at Emma being so ladylike despite having been raised by solely her father and a governess and that her father's health would benefit from a visit to Bath while the trip would allow Emma to experience the best society that she had been so sorely deprived of in Highbury. Emma received each strike against her with grace and civility even though her first inclination was to respond by making clear all of the things she found lacking in Mrs. Elton's person. The woman was utterly disagreeable and Emma doubted anyone would contradict her on this thought.
She was able to turn her thoughts to more pleasant matters the following day when an invitation for a dinner party given by Mr. and Mrs. Cole was delivered to Hartfield. This couple had resided in Highbury for many years but had fairly recently experienced a drastic change in their income that now positioned them as one of the top three wealthiest families in the town. That they had been planning to give a party had been of little consequence to Emma who had deemed the Coles to be of low origin due to their wealth coming from the trade business, but she soon expressed a change of heart when she discovered that Frank Churchill would be present and that he had encouraged the Coles to have the dinner.
"Will you go, Mr. Knightley? It is a simple dinner so you need not fear being asked to dance," Emma's lips quirked up as she teased him.
Mr. Knightley relaxed back in his chair as he regarded his friend with amusement. He had come to Hartfield without notice, as was his practice, and had soon been pestered by Emma about whether or not he would be in attendance, "I confess I do not understand your enthusiasm in going to the Coles. I thought it was your belief that they were beneath your notice."
"I am allowed to change my opinion, am I not? Besides, young Mr. Churchill shall be there and I am eager for you to make his acquaintance."
Swallowing his irritation, Mr. Knightley crossed his arms, "And is it so very important that I meet him? You seem to spend enough time with him for the both of us." He had not meant to say those words out loud but something flashed inside his chest that consumed him and made silence impossible. Dare he say the feeling was...jealousy? But that could not be. He had no reason to feel jealous but even as he told himself this he knew it was a lie. Suddenly, all of the things he had been experiencing for the last year or so began to make sense. The way he felt relief when he saw Hartfield, the way Emma was always in his thoughts, how his heart beat faster when he saw her, or the jolt of electricity that would shoot up his arm when she'd grab his hand. Even now, the jealousy that he felt about Emma's excitement over seeing Frank Churchill started to make sense. He was in love with Emma.
He dazedly heard Emma responding to his earlier sarcasm as though from far away, "Do not be ridiculous! It would not do for one of the most respected members of the community to never meet someone such as Mr. Churchill."
Emma, whose back had been turned as she spoke, now faced Mr. Knightley and saw with alarm that the man looked positively ill. She hurried to kneel beside his chair and she pushed on his shoulder to gain his attention, "Mr. Knightley? Mr. Knightley, are you alright?"
At her prodding, Mr. Knightley slowly turned to meet her gaze, "Hmm?"
Growing more fearful at the man's strange behavior, Emma raised her hand and placed it against his cheek, "Are you ill? Shall I send for Perry?"
Mr. Knightley felt his eyes widen as Emma placed her small, soft hand on his cheek and he forced himself to focus on what she was saying. Her brows were scrunched together as fear hovered in her eyes and despite the fact that he should be saying something to comfort her, he found that all he was capable of doing was staring at her beautiful face. It was not until the warmth of her hand slipped from his cheek and she stood while calling for the footman to fetch Dr. Perry that he was able to pull himself together.
"No, no, do not get Perry. I am quite well," He attempted to smile.
"Mr. Knightley, 'quite well is not how I would describe you at the present moment," Emma came to kneel before him again. "You are very pale and when I spoke to you it was as though you were lost in a faraway place."
"I assure you I am well, though I just remembered some letters that must be written as soon as possible. Please relay my goodbyes to your father," With a half bow, Mr. Knightley strode across the room, grabbed his hat from the table he always tossed it on and left as quickly as he could. Had he been less of a coward he would have turned to tip his hat to Emma in reassurance but he could not bare to see the expression of utter shock and confusion that was sure to be there. How could he when he himself was so very shocked and confused?
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Emma could not help but ponder over the change in Mr. Knightley's behavior the week before. One moment he had been joking and teasing her as he always did and the next he looked as though he'd seen a ghost. His explanation for needing to leave so suddenly was just as perplexing but she decided that if it was truly something of great importance then Mr. Knightley would have said something. As it was, Emma was attempting to prepare herself for the Cole's party that night. Her lady's maid finished styling her hair and as she took her leave, Emma closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Mrs. Elton would no doubt be present for the dinner and that was one person whom Emma desperately wished to avoid.
Her father had declined to attend, having a general dislike of social gatherings and preferring to stay in the comfort of his own home. And so it was that Emma arrived at the Coles on her own. The carriage came to a stop and as the door opened, her eyebrows rose in amusement as she sat staring down into the smiling face of Frank Churchill.
"I was not aware you had taken a position as a footman for the Coles," Emma teased as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to assist her down from the carriage.
"I did not intend for anyone to discover my secret but now I fear I have no choice." Placing his hand dramatically over his heart, Frank formed his features into a most sorrowful expression, "Alas, I have fallen on hard times and could not bare to burden my dear father and step-mother with my financial woes so I have had to resort to hard labor to make my way."
The sparkle in Mr. Churchill's eyes was more pronounced than usual and Emma could not help but release a laugh at his theatrics, "Tis a sad tale to be sure."
Mr. Churchill grinned and led her to the bottom of the stairs leading to the front entrance of the Cole's home, "If you will excuse me, Miss Woodhouse, I have something I must take care of but I intend to seek you out later on." With a bow over her hand, Mr. Churchill turned and fairly skipped up the stairs.
Emma shook her head with humor and began climbing the steps when she stumbled. She let out a little gasp and would surely have fallen had a pair of strong arms not caught her and pulled her against a firm chest. Trying to catch her breath, Emma tilted her head back to look into the eyes of her rescuer, "Mr. Knightley! How fortunate you were so near."
Emma ignored the erratic beating of her heart and pushed against Mr. Knightley until she was standing firmly on her own two feet. This proved to be a mistake as it only drew her attention to the width of his shoulders. Taking a moment to compose herself, Emma took in the sight of Mr. Knightley. He was dressed as the other gentlemen were, in a fine dinner jacket and breeches and his brown hair just brushed the tops of his ears but Emma decided that he was undeniably the most handsome man there.
"Are you alright, Emma?"
"Yes," She sounded breathless even to her own ears and she delicately cleared her throat. "Yes, I am fine. I believe I must have stepped on the hem of my gown."
Mr. Knightley frowned down at her, "Who was that man who left you here alone? Why did he not assist you up the stairs?"
"That was Mr. Churchill and he said he had some business to take care of."
"It does him no credit to leave a young lady alone outside," Mr. Knightley placed her hand on his arm and began walking with her up the steps.
"Well, I am not alone now, am I?" Emma smiled at him as they crossed the threshold into the Cole's home.
The anger that had previously covered Mr. Knightley's face disappeared as she smiled and he suddenly looked quite nervous. After handing hit hat and jacket along with Emma's cloak to the butler, Mr. Knightley politely excused himself.
Disappointment and hurt welled up in Emma over his abrupt departure but she was not allowed to dwell on it long as Mrs. Weston came over to her, "Emma, how lovely you look!"
"Thank you, Mrs. Weston, and you are looking well yourself," Emma leaned closer and spoke in a whisper," And has the illustrious Mrs. Elton arrived yet?"
"Mr. Elton apparently sent word that his wife had come down with a very bad headache and they would not be able to attend," Mrs. Weston smiled at the look of relief on Emma's face, for as gracious as she was, Mrs. Weston did not hold any special favor for Mrs. Elton either.
Emma felt the stiffness in her shoulders ease as she experienced the first opportunity for a reprieve from the boorish woman in the form of the Cole's dinner party. Without the other woman's presence, Emma felt at ease to talk and laugh without having to listen to interruptions or insults. Mr. Churchill also fulfilled his promise to locate her and she listened with great interest as he spoke about his time in Highbury thus far.
"I think my father has introduced me to everybody in the neighborhood! I truly do not remember there being so many people here when I left."
"So you have made the acquaintance of the new Mrs. Elton, then?"
"No, indeed. Is she here?" Mr. Churchill craned his neck as he surveyed the crowd.
"She became ill and they were unable to attend. And what about Miss Fairfax? Have you made her introduction?"
The young man seemed to hesitate a moment but his ready smile remained in place, "Yes, I have met her."
"And what do you think?"
"I think I have never met someone so prim and reserved. And one would think with her upbringing that she would choose more complimentary gowns and know how to properly style her hair."
Emma felt her eyes widen in surprise, she did not think there was anyone who could find fault with Jane Fairfax. Before she could stop herself, Emma whispered, "Well, you know of her situation?"
"What situation?"
"I have heard that with the marriage of the Campbell's daughter, Jane has decided to seek a position as a governess. She hopes to find a job before the end of the coming Summer."
Something unreadable flashed in Mr. Churchill's eyes but he merely muttered, "Very interesting."
Catching sight of Mr. Knightley standing by the refreshment table, Emma turned to Mr. Churchill, "I do not believe you have met my dear friend, Mr. Knightley. Shall I introduce you?"
Mr. Churchill nodded and Emma led him to where Mr. Knightley stood, "Mr. Knightley I would like to introduce you to Mr. Weston's son, Mr. Frank Churchill."
Mr. Churchill smiled and inclined his head in greeting while Mr. Knightley gave a stiff bow, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Churchill. I trust you have not had any difficulty in settling down in Highbury?"
"I should say not, especially with a lady like Miss Woodhouse to guide me."
Mr. Knightley pressed his lips together in a firm line, "Indeed. I beg your pardon but I have yet to greet Miss Fairfax. Good evening."
Emma frowned as Mr. Knightley made his way towards Miss Fairfax, who had been standing alone in one corner of the room. She looked surprised as Mr. Knightley started a conversation with her but she did not avoid it and they remained where they were until dinner was announced. Supper passed uneventfully and before long the guests had returned to their various discussions.
It was while Emma was speaking with Mrs. Weston that Mrs. Cole placed a hand on her arm, "Miss Woodhouse, we would be so honored if you play and sing for us."
Emma blushed and accepted the woman's request before sorting through the sheet music she was presented with. After selecting a song that had been one of her favorites since childhood, Emma sat at the grand piano and began to play. Mr. Churchill stood behind her and turned the pages as she reached the end of each section. When her performance was done the guests applauded and Miss Fairfax was asked to go next. Emma came to a stop next to Mr. Knightley as Jane began to play. Emma smiled sadly, Jane played beautifully and she did indeed have the voice of an angel.
"She plays and sings so much better than I," Emma glanced at Mr. Knightley.
"Nonsense, your performance was just as lovely," Mr. Knightley did not look at her as he spoke and she returned to her seat beside Mrs. Weston.
Mr. Churchill had offered his services of turning pages to Jane and when her song came to an end he spoke quietly to her before facing the guests, "I have prevailed upon Miss Fairfax to play for us again and she has agreed to these three."
As Mr. Churchill held up three sets of sheet music, Miss Fairfax looked up to him and then down to the piano once more, "Please, sir, just one."
"Indeed!" Mr. Knightley came forward and stood beside Jane, "You will tire the poor girl out with so many songs."
As the three seemingly discussed Miss Fairfax's next selection, Mrs. Weston spoke quietly so only Emma could hear, "I have heard talk that our Mr. Knightley may have started considering taking a bride."
Emma's head whipped around and she fought the outright denial that tried to claw its way from her mouth, "What a ridiculous notion! Mr. Knightley has every intention of leaving Donwell to my nephew, Henry. How could he do this if he intends to marry?"
"I would not be so sure of that," Mrs. Weston smiled. "Have you ever seen him pay so much attention to a lady before?"
Emma followed the other woman's gaze to where Mr. Knightley stood talking to Mr. Churchill while Miss Fairfax sat quietly between them. "You must be in jest. Miss Fairfax? I do not believe it."
"I do not know for certain but does he not seem so very concerned for her wellbeing? He may very well have made his choice."
Emma turned away and allowed her gaze to settle on a painting that hung on the far wall. What this painting was about she would never be able to say because all of her efforts were being used to stop the tears she could feel brimming in her eyes.
