A Forth installment of my Emma drabbles.

Sorry if is so late, I've been quite busy with life and my own Mr. Knightley hehe(he is not as old though).

I would like to thank my wonderful beta Chocolate is my drug, for helping me and correcting my writing so it will be presentable for all and I am learning! Slowly but I am trying to retain what you teach me.

And without further ado!

Mr. Knightley is Home!

"Mr. Knightley is coming home, Mr. Knightley is coming home!" Seven-and-half-year-old Emma sang out loud as she skipped through the hallways of Hartfield twirling hers sister's best hair ribbons that she had pasted to a stick around in the air. Her blonde curls bounced with every step she took; her pretty pink gown floated around her. Miss Taylor had let her pick out her own clothing today, and of course Emma had wanted to wear her Sunday best.

"Emma!" Miss Taylor heard the shriek from the school room. "Give me back my ribbons – oh! You're going to ruin them." Miss Taylor sighed and followed the noise.

"Mr. Knightley is coming home!" Emma repeated ignoring her sister and continued to chant away.

"Miss Taylor, tell her to give me back my ribbons! Look what she's gone and done – she's going to ruin them and they were a Christmas present from John," Isabella cried.

"Mr. John, Isabella – you are far to old to be going around calling him by his given name. You're going on fourteen; in a few years you'll be out in society you must learn proper etiquette." Miss Taylor told the older girl. "Now Emma, give your sister back her ribbons, or I'll take away your pin money till you can buy her a new pair; and I told you once already, Master George coming home is no joyful occasion," Miss Taylor sighed as Emma bowed her head and silently gave her sister the ribbons.

"What do you say, Emma?" Miss Taylor prompted her young charge.

"I'm sorry, Isabella – I hope you can forgive me," Emma said to her sister with big doe eyes.

"Very well; Isabella?"

"I accept your apology," Isabella told her younger sister grudgingly, still annoyed about her ribbons being used as streamers.

"Well now, Isabella why don't you go put your ribbons away and practice your piano. Emma..." Miss Taylor turned to where the child had been but had seemed to run off chanting once more that her Mr. Knightley was coming home.

It was daunting; he felt too young, but he was a man of three and twenty and men younger than he became masters of their houses. George looked around; it felt empty knowing his father was no longer with him, or his mother who passed on a few months prior. Both had fallen ill; his mother had succumbed to the disease and his father had died of a broken heart a mere few months later, wanting to be with his wife. The funeral was to be the next morning and he ridden in late last night after receiving an express from a young boy who worked somewhere on the grounds. He was still in riding clothing, unshaven, dark rings under his eyes from the lack of sleep. Could he really do this? What if he destroyed everything his father had worked for?

George groaned and sat down in his chair downing the glass of brandy. He heard the door open but didn't turn his head.

"George?" He heard his brother John's voice.

"What is it, John?" George finally spoke up after a moment, his voice showing how he felt: overwhelmed, scared, and heartbroken.

"Tea is ready if you're hungry," John told his brother. "It will be alright, you know – you'll catch on quick and after I'm finished with college, I'll be around more."

"Thank you, John but I think I shall take a ride instead," George told him. "I feel like some exercise would do me good."

John nodded and understood his brother had to absorb all this in his own way.

George rode, trying to clear his mind and he reached Hartfield, barely realizing that he had come this far. He slowed his horse as he started to pass the garden walls, when he heard the familiar voice chanting over and over again...Mr. Knightley is coming home, Mr. Knightley is coming home... He was truly Mr. Knightley now; now it wouldn't be strange for her to call him that anymore. He dismounted from his horse and tethered it to a tree.

He looked over the hedge and saw his golden-haired friend balancing on the fountain edge while twirling around it still chanting away. He realized as he leaned against the gate that everything would be fine. It will be hard in the beginning but over time he would learn, and he had someone already giving him the courage to do so.

Emma danced around the fountain, forgetting her father's warnings of falling in and injuring herself. She was much too happy that her dear friend was coming home to think about rules and restrictions. She knew they would come looking for her and scold her but for the time being she was safe from watchful eyes. As she turned quickly something caught her eye and she stopped in mid-turn, almost losing her balance as she hopped down from the ledge.

"Mr. Knightley!" she squealed, running into his legs. "You're home!"

"Indeed, Miss Emma," George said with a small, sad smile. "Home to stay for a very long while."

Emma nodded her head solemnly. "Is it because of your papa?" George nodded his head. "You'll be alright; you're all grown up, and you have me!"

"Do I?" George chuckled for the first time in days while Emma nodded her head vigorously.

"I can make you tea! Miss Taylor taught me, and I can sew and I'm learning the pianoforte – Isabella is so much better than I am, but Miss Taylor says I'll learn in time." Emma told him of all her accomplishments, rambling on... "And I can write now, and I'm quite good at reading!"

"Why, you are becoming an accomplished young lady, aren't you!" George exclaimed at her excitement.

"See, I can keep you company! You won't have to miss your papa because you'll have me! I promise never to leave you," Emma said, and hugged his legs and looked up at him with a dazzling smile.

George smiled and wondered if she still thought of her own dear mother who passed away two years before. If she did, she didn't mention it.

"And you once told me, that when people die they turn into angels, so that means your papa is now an angel, and he'll never truly leave you," Emma told him.

"I did, didn't I?"George smiled at her. "Well, I believe you are right, I also believe you have someone looking for you," he said, pointing over to the governess who was looking for her charge.

"Mr. Knightley, we didn't expect you," Miss Taylor said when she saw him.

"I rode over few moments ago to clear my mind," George told her.

"Would you like some tea?"

"That would be nice," George said, nodding.

"Oh Miss Taylor, can I pour it?" Emma chimed in. "I've gotten so good!"

"Of course, Emma," Miss Taylor told her with a smiled and whispered to Mr. Knightley. "Be aware she over indulges in the sugar."

George nodded and looked fondly at Emma, who had resumed her chant as she wound her way around them. "Mr. Knightley is home!"

There I hope you all enjoyed that! Please review I do love reviews, or general just tell me what you think good or bad.

I have another one coming soon I shall hope which is still in my mind and shall be fun to write.

SCB