Chapter 27

A New Rival


They were hardly to the footpath in the back garden when Mrs. Elton's company became painfully odious to Emma's sensibilities. She had spent that last several minutes telling Emma all about the places her family members had had the privilege of traveling and how sensible it was to travel and experience the very best.

Upon hearing the Woodhouse sentiment on traveling Augusta was almost cross about her reprimand. Although she divorced the opinion from being merely her own by saying "How strange it would seem to those in London for anyone to stay cooped up like these peculiar country folk like rabbits in a hutch. It is as if they have no clue about the refinement, superiority, and culture that traveling would bring. Not to mention the health benefits of places like Bath. You seem the intelligent sort Emma; surely, you'll allow my Londoner sensibilities to rub off on you,"

Emma felt as if steam might exit through her nostrils like the angry bull she had seen panting outside of Faraday's Store as an adolescent. It had escaped the clutches of the farmer who had clearly aggravated the animal in an attempt to prod and load it on to a wagon so it might go on to auction. Emma only hoped that if steam puffs did escape her in rage, that she would not throw her head violently as the bull had or begin drooling. That would be undignified—lines must be drawn!

She almost laughed out at the distracting imagining that slid across her mind. She bit her lip and forced her focus back on what Mrs. Elton was saying.

Ah yes, the Suckling family—still the topic at hand and what an unfortunate surname. It reminded Emma of a 'Suckling pig', glazed and dressed for table, all onamental looking with an apple in its mouth, she thought to herself, almost laughing out again at the imagery.

The woman would not stop talking about her sister and how wealthy the Suckling family was. "She has several carriages and the newest one, beautifully adorned and so exceedingly comfortable—it sits four perfectly and it rides so high and proud that you can see for miles from any vantage point. Now she will have to decide frequently between their fancy Phaeton carriage they purchased last summer and the new larger one, both are so stunning and attractive it will be such a difficultly. I don't know how she will manage it. Do you have so many carriages? I did not see many horses when we passed the stables on the way in,"

"No, not many. My husband does not find it agrees with him to have to order horses so far in advance and then not be at his own liberty for when he wishes to leave a place on account of the carriage needing to be made ready. He would go everywhere on horseback if it were permitted, not that I would permit him for any truly fashionable functions and he know this much well for he has always ordered horses for our carriage when he knows I would appreciate one," Emma smiled that she knew him so well, his taste and disregard for taking carriages had never made sense to her until they were married. It still didn't make a lot of sense to her, but she understood his reasoning better and it pleased her that he would be willing to bend his ideals to keep her comfortable.

"I am ever so fond of walking, I will walk as far as Highbury or Randalls with no thought of a carriage, for it seems such as waste of natural luxury. Beyond driving to church, the only purpose I would have for carriage is to attend parties and they are not so common in our quiet county as to demand frequent usage,"

"Oh, I detest walking. I do not know how I will live to have to order a carriage and horses—I have never known such—such poverty or inconveniences. My husband, well he has assured me that we will order a carriage whenever it is needed but oh how I wish we simply would keep a team of four and have several comfortable carriages of our own." Mrs. Elton sighed. "But if the owners of Donwell cannot afford one—"

"I beg your pardon, it is not a matter of affordance," Emma cut in feeling a need to correct her. "But rather which things are a worthy investment, for example, my husband borrowed a Phaeton carriage from his friend in London for our wedding because he wanted it for the occasion but did not like the idea of such impracticality or to see it go unused—for he did not think it was his style and we would not use it often enough in the countryside to justify its purchase,"

Mrs. Elton shook her head, "I don't believe in the practice of borrowing, certainly not if one can afford it themselves, for in that case, I cannot see the point. And the more I think on it the more I wholeheartedly disagree with the idea of borrowing anything, to do so seems as if to take advantage of one's friends, almost to turn their carriage into a public coach" she stated.

Emma bit her tongue, and took a few clarifying breaths before offering an upbeat sounding question, "Shall we tour the gardens?"

Emma was seething internally and thankfully Augusta afforded her a few moments of silence from the foot path to the edge of the interior gardens.

"Oh, yes oh charming Donwell is indeed. The English garden reminds me exactly of the style kept by my brother-in-law Mister Suckling at Maple Grove in Sussex. Although I think everywhere in England pales in comparison to Sussex. But do not be offended if Donwell does not fully measure up for I have often heard Sussex called the Garden of England"

"Ah, but I believe many places are called the garden of England" Emma challenged retaining her soft and sweet tone, but her face bore the complexion of a little defiance. Her brow raised just slightly with her query, for she was sure of herself on the point because she had often seen the phrase in the gardening periodical Mrs. Weston would lend her addressing spots in various regions.

"Nay, surely I have never heard it said of anywhere but Sussex, but do not be discouraged! It is no insult to be not quite as impressive as a garden in Sussex County,"

Emma smiled unashamedly, "Although possessing the best apple orchard and fruit gardens, Donwell it often said to have the second-best floral garden in the whole region," Emma agreed.

"Only second best? Nay, it can hardly be true—which do they say is the first?"

"Why, Hartfield of course," Emma told her with a light smile, then breaking into an excited grin for it could not be held at bay when talking of her childhood home, "It has the greatest variety of flowers, some of which were given to the family by the Duke of Norfolk before he died, one in particular is called Semper Augustus and it was in excess of 10,000 Dutch guilders when it was purchased at auction—although I do not know the conversion to British pounds, it was a very expensive bulb and it looks absolutely enrapturing when it is in bloom, whites and crimson swirled together in exquisite perfection," Emma explained, she had always loved flowers, as had her mother before her, and she had heard many tales from her Father and Isabella about the various flowers in Hartfield's garden while growing up. Some of the flowers had been in their spot for a thousand years and Emma knew the garden like the back of her hand.

"That is fascinating," Mrs. Elton told her. "Well, I have heard that Hartfield is to be let out, I am trying to convince Mr. E to let us look at it—the cottage attached to the parish is not a grand home, nothing like the luxury I was accustomed to in London—we always had the latest and finest things –I'm sure you understand. Anyways, if he agrees I will be able to have a look at what you say is the most famous garden in the area. I should like that you know—I don't care a whit about gardening but to live in the house that everyone said had the most famous garden," Mrs. Elton smiled wildly, "I would like that very much! It is nice to be spoken of by others as having the best things, don't you think?"

Emma could hardly speak; she had not known that Hartfield was going to be let out. She had heard it mentioned early on but had not had a single warning or confirmation in all the months since that time.

She took in her surroundings once more. Recognizing that they stood near again to the tea table she had set up in the garden, she defaulted to the careful hostess in the wake of the onset of emotions, "Should you like another scone?" Emma asked ignoring the feelings of sadness and upset swelling inside her.

"No, certainly not, because really of some things one is certainly enough—I have always found the cooks in London to have more experience with baking, they use less flour in their confectioneries, the taste so much softer and so much more enticing. I know it must be difficult to find staff in the more remote areas with the same kind of experience—if you wish I could have my father or my brother-in-law put out a word for a cook that specializes in the confections with a willingness to move to a more remote area, "

"Very kind, but I must decline," Emma forced and smile and held in her contempt.

"Oh, very well. I suppose it is not a bad thing, not to want another—we ladies must watch our figures afterall." Mrs. Elton declared joyfully.

"Our cook is most excellent, and if you must know I made the scones this morning, I enjoy dabbling in making pastries and confections as a hobby but admit I am still honing the skill," Emma told her without excuse, though she had not felt that the scones tasted dry and the Devonshire cream that cook had made to accompanies was perfect, as were the jams. To her mind, there wasn't a thing wrong with the entire tea service.

The look on Mrs. Elton's face was priceless.

"More tea?" Emma asked with a lightly raise eyebrow.

"Yes, please," Mrs. Elton offered to recover and she gave a light smile.


"It was dreadful!" Emma said, moving quickly into his study nearly the moment Mrs. Elton had stepped out the front door. She was right at the edge of his desk, he had moved to stand as she entered and now she stood right next to him.

"Emma," he said and his tone held in every other word but her name and yet conveyed everything all at once, the low growl –it was all very clear that he did not want her to continue.

"No George, I know what you always say. You always shut down anything I have to say that isn't praising and positive. You don't like bad spoken about anybody. It does not even matter if it is true or even deserved. You always refuse to let me express my grievances and annoyances and believe me, most of the time you are right to do so! You are right not to allow me to visit the Bates week after week only to complain about it afterward. That is honorable and right. And I appreciated that you hold me to such a standard, for you make me better for it. But you are also my husband and there are times that I want to confide in you—and why should you not be the person I come to with my frustrations and burdens? For if you do not wish to be that person for me then I will find other solutions for divesting the emotions that are stirred up inside me, but I wish you would allow it to be you. Please let me vent to you George, just this once let me pour out everything and have you listen to me and not judge me for it"

He was looking at her and had made no move to stop her; he also had not given any sense of what he was thinking, nor agreement to her wishes.

"Please allow me to air my thoughts—even if they are unkind and unflattering. You are my husband, who else might I confide to so sincerely? Don't you want to have that place in my life, to hear everything? My ill thoughts and my good ones? Will you allow me to continue speaking to you of my meeting with Mrs. Augusta Elton?"

He almost looked like he felt wicked agreeing to it, as his eyes looked almost like a man afraid of himself, "Yes, Emma you may confide to me on this and I will not judge you for it,"

She smiled and the feeling of joy flooded her and she moved to hug him to her is such a tight hold, and tucked her face gently into his neck to unknowingly breath him in with a deep sigh, it felt so good to be holding him and so freeing that she was allowed to speak freely.

"Thank you," she kissed his cheek and then moved to stand a step apart, "Now brace yourself for you will not enjoy anything I have to say next."

She took a deep breath preparing herself as well. "It was awful, I have never in my life met a more haughty, disagreeable and pointedly rude woman,"

"Emma," he said softly.

"George, you promised to listen first," she interjected with a slight whine, "I fully expect for you to council me later for that is your nature, and I, despite what I say sometimes, do appreciate your advice, but will you listen first?"

"Sorry," he nodded, looking slightly sheepish, but she understood for she knew that their habits were hard to break.

"She insulted me, knowingly and unknowingly on several occasions, and I do not know how it must still fall to me to ingratiate her into Highbury society! It seems perfect torture, to myself and any I should inflict her on!" Emma spat, looking up as George chuckled, her eyebrows shot up in surprise, she had never known him to laugh at such a thing.

"She all but told me that our garden was nothing compared to her sister's in Sussex, but that we should not be ashamed of it," Emma told him motioning with her hand to emphasize her feeling of frustration.

"Ah, that would be your Achilles heel, wouldn't it?" he said soothingly, and calmly.

"She made it seem as if we were country hermits for not traveling here and there after every flight of fancy. And insinuated that we could not afford to keep fine carriages and then she told me she felt it was disrespectful to borrow a wedding carriage as we did, that it was taking advantage of our friends," Emma told him, fighting her own eye roll.

George laughed outright then, "Borrowing that carriage was one of the smartest things I've ever done, for all its shiny paint a new Phaeton would have sat rather derelict until it tarnished like a three pence coin in one of our outbuildings,"

"She also told me that Hartfield was being leased out," his sigh was all she needed for confirmation that he already knew about it and that what Mrs. Elton has said was not untrue.

"I was hoping for a chance to tell you but I knew it would make you unhappy, and truth be told I was avoiding it because you've been so content lately. But now I am sorry of it, for I did not wish or expect for you to find out from one such as Mrs. Elton but in hindsight, I could have prevented some of the distress you feel now," he explained.

She felt tears welling up "And the most distressing thing was that she said she is hoping Mr. Elton will allow her to look at it in hope of them living there,"

"They'll not be able to afford it if that is what worries you. I asked my brother to set the lease high and at a four-year term to prevent it from attracting less desirable tenants; we'd like only to see a good family take up possession of the house,"

Emma swallowed; the idea of any family living there broke her heart. And just like that she was crying.

"I didn't realize how much I missed having it as my home, Hartfield I mean." She took a breath and tried to push back the tears that came with it. "Even just talking about it with Augusta before she brought up about the lease, I was telling her about the flowers, and we don't have half as many varieties of flowers here and I thought if I tried to make Donwell as much my home that I would love it equally as much but I think now, I fear now that I never shall." She sobbed heartily then, "Did you know Hartfield has flowers that were given to my mother by her father the duke? Some of them are among the rarest in the world!" she smiled almost proudly as tears fell either side, "I took them all for granted, all of them, even Semper Augustus! It was like I believed I'd be there all my life and now, someone else will be carrying for them or worse yet, no one will be mindful of them and the garden will overgrow and I'll not be permitted to visit and tend to the flowers as I do now, as there will be other people living there," she whispered out, her eyes looking frightened at the idea of the flowers being neglected.

"You've been visiting Hartfield?" he asked her.

"Of course I have, I often spend an hour or two there whenever I go to town. Who else would keep the weeds down?" she asked frantically.

"The gardener perhaps, my brother has the same gardener employed as when you and your father were there."

"Yes and that same gardener was continually reliant on my help at that time as well. The perfection of a country floral garden is not arrived at by neglect or idleness George; it is precision and application of one's energies in pursuit of it!"

He smiled at her zeal. "Donwell has many areas where you could apply your energies, perhaps we might open up another flower bed, and you could design it all your own,"

She shook her head sadly, fresh tears arose, "It isn't the same, I wanted to love your garden George and the flowers, they are very beautiful but they aren't Hartfield and that isn't their fault." She explained speaking almost as if the flowers themselves would have had hurt feelings to hear her say it and wishing no pain on their part. "You understand what it is to miss something," she said, "well it isn't always rational, I wish I could replace my Hartfield flowers with other flowers but I can't and I'm saddened that things will never be the same. Mrs. Elton reminded me of that today," Emma sniffled, "perhaps the cruelest thing she has done to me and it was very obviously unintentional for she did not know Hartfield was my childhood home, and that having it let out will truly end a chapter in my life."

"I'm sorry it was a poor experience," he offered his condolences.

"The worst of it is that now I must craft a method to introduce her that will prevent me from looking neglectful or inconsiderate, though I loathe to do anything to inflate her ego further,"

"What about a picnic?" He asked.

"A picnic?" Emma echoed, almost distracted immediately

"Yes, taking food out of doors," he clarified

Her tone was playful but she didn't really smile and her eyes still held a dreary albeit glazed over look, "Of course I know what a picnic is, I was considering if it would be a workable solution,"

"Perhaps after church on Sunday afternoon?"

"No, for it is the rector and his wife, so that would surely be in poor taste to host them something they might have hosted themselves as a means of introduction, and a picnic, no not after church but perhaps some other place on a Saturday afternoon—"

"What if we were to invite a group to come strawberry picking at Donwell in the morning and then head out to Box Hill for a picnic,"

"Box Hill?" she asked her voice sounding a little upbeat and her eyes regaining some of their radiance.

"Yes, I saw the book you had left open in the study a few afternoons ago, you had it open to the page with a sketch of the place,"

"Oh yes, that's right. It is an old book of attractions and interests in Highbury and the surrounding areas. Harriet had been looking at it for organizing a school outing a few months back and I had borrowed it but had not yet had the opportunity to return it to her. I thought I knew everything about Highbury but it seems there are ever so many things to see that I never have. Did you know Box Hill is the largest hill in both elevation and diameter for five counties? Or did you know that they say it got its name because twin brothers feuded over it for years until they settled it once and for all by each entering a contestant for a boxing match? Edward was the winning brother that much was clear, yet it is unclear from the local histories if the boxing match actually took place on the hill or not but—" she stopped herself short, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I was just enjoying listening to you and reflecting on how much I relish hearing you speak your mind. I love your ill thoughts and your good ones. Never forget that Emma Knightley," he told her and he was still looking at her in the same way, so she took what he said as being the truth.


Thank you for all the reviews. I have been so encouraged hearing various thoughts on the last chapter. It means so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Please tell me what you think of Mrs. E (was she too over the top?) or of the George/Emma interaction this chapter :)