AN; Thanks for all the great feedback and reviews.

"More than kisses, letters mingle souls." John Donne

In a few short days John and Isabella ironed out all the details with Mr. Knightley as to Emma leaving Hartfield for an extended stay in London at their house.

"Now George if this all becomes to much you must write to us and let me know…I know you are always quietly capable of everything but the running of two estates and overseeing the farms will certainly keep you more than busy…" John looked and spoke earnestly.

Knightley only shook his head; words had been failing him over the past few days. He watched as the two maids put some white sheeting over his favorite chair near the fireplace. Emma came in just then;

"Oh no…please that one must have the covers off." She instructed the maids. She turned to face him and with a smile he had not seen since the ball at the Crown she spoke to him,

"After all, you will have to have somewhere to sit…" and with this she laughed mischievously, "…just think Mr. Knightley you will have peace and tranquility on your visits to Hartfield now, no bothersome creatures to contradict you or poor manners you must correct."

"Hmmm…" an affirmative mumble was his only reply as he watched her move about the room. John went to fetch Isabella with some sort of instruction on packing when Knightley saw his chance to speak with Emma alone.

"Emma, are you entirely sure that this is what you want…to go to London…to leave Highbury…just now?"

She looked thoughtful, "To be honest I don't know what I want? On one day I can't bear this house…these rooms and then there are hours that I want to stay here in this parlor, as we use to, you, I and father; warming ourselves by the fire, catching up on news…but it can't be that way anymore…can it?" Emma looked to him with a doleful expression.

Knightley felt sure now, that by her tone, Emma saw him first as a friend to her father and then as a friend or brother figure…he was surprised at how the reality squeezed his chest, he was having trouble taking each breath.

"No, I suppose not." He managed to vocalize.

Emma was now almost positive he returned Harriet's affections, she was beautiful and the Knightley's were easily wealthy enough for him to marry whoever he chose, and surely, if she stayed he could not come and sit with her by her fire and laugh and chat and tease…it would be inappropriate…she had quite enough of hurting others feelings by being to attentive to their prospective husband, it was only now that she and Jane Fairfax had finally decided to correspond.

"Well I suppose then it is settled Mr. Knightley…I must go with John and Isabella, it will no doubt do me good, I will become so cultured, so worldly, so refined that by the time I return to Hartfield you will hardly know me?" she could not help bait him just once before they left.

"How could I recognize you with your head 5 times the size it normally is?" He laughed and so did she and to Mr. Knightley it was a sound he would have to capture and store for later review, for the thought of sitting in this parlor alone going over ledgers, without that sound, was a lonely prospect to be sure.

In another day's time they were gone, Emma removed, supposedly to distract her from sadness and grief but in Mr. Knightley's opinion sadness and grief had a way of finding you with a vengeance if you tried to hide.

He immersed himself in work, the farms needed repairs, livestock had to be checked, rents were due, Donwell and Hartfield needed tending and some repairs as well. He made a list every evening, planned and dutifully checked each item off that evening. All the walking to and from Hartfield was tiring but they were enjoying a bout of excellent weather so the journey was not so much of a hardship one or two times a day. It was into the third week of their departure for London that he received a letter from the family. He was delighted when he opened it to see Emma was actually the author.

Dear Mr. Knightley,

Let me explain from the beginning, I have been elected, in a most undemocratic way, to write to you on all that is happening here in London. We arrived safely on the 14th, all 8 of us, this statement may underscore how our travel was from Hartfield to London….Knightley laughed and settled further into his chair…I am not quite sure how Isabella manages this for I seem to be hopelessly inept, by the time I have gotten the correct pace of walking out on the busy streets we have turned and started to go in a different direction, more than once little Henry has had to retrieve me from another street…He smiled and put his feet up on the ottoman, he was at Donwell and so allowed himself a fire that evening, the days were warm but the nights still turned cold…the days move so quickly…there is getting the children up and ready, then lessons for the older ones, meals, naps, playing, walks, reading; then there are the social functions in the evening; parties, balls, dinner invitations…we are out almost every evening…I must admit that John and Isabella were right about the distraction. I just hope that I don't embarrass them in front of their friend. I am ashamed to say, I who thought Mr. Martin's behavior clownish, which was very bad indeed, have a feeling that is the way some of the ladies look at me here in London. …Knightley shook his head in disagreement…I have not made many friends…just one, you would like her, she is always reading. Her name is Catherine and she is the daughter of one of John's older friends from his club. She is not like the other young women here, she doesn't take an interest in 'finding a husband', or shopping for new dresses although she is very pretty and would look splendid in some of the London fashions. I think her beauty is not quite so traditional, she likes to take walks in nature and collect things like butterflies, flowers for pressing, I told her she would love Highbury. I hope her father will allow her to visit us sometime, the few times I have met him he seemed disappointed in almost everything she said and did, kind of sad, especially when I think on my father; I have this image of him almost always being delighted with everything I did… except perhaps, Box Hill but in my memory I shall blame that on you Mr. Knightley for you had started the whole idea in my head, …but of course my behavior that day I will only blame on myself. I never told you but you were right to scold me that day I was being selfish and cruel towards Miss Bates, at least now she can rest easy that Jane is well situated. Perhaps, while I am here in London I can learn to be a better person. Knightley placed the letter to his chest and closed his eyes, feeling his heart fill with so many emotions. It was a while before he resumed reading;

On Saturday we will go to the Opera. I am very excited. We will be sitting with The Wright's, Catherine's family, in their box, we are to see The Marriage of Figaro, it should be quite interesting, I believe Catherine's brother William will be there whom she has talked much of, he also, through comments made by Mr. Wright , seems to be a disappointment but not so much as Catherine. William is a doctor here in London, a profession, which I think is more the disappointment, considered beneath the Wright's situation and station. I believe this is tempered somewhat with his success, Catherine says that he is helping to break new ground in surgery…I understand to some degree this notion of one's place in society but I am also realizing that living without some real purpose; no business, no children, no profession seems to thwart and frustrate people. For look at you Mr. Knightley, you take such pleasure in managing Donwell and all your tenants, you are always here and there, helping and planning with our community, and you are rarely in ill health or spirit. I think not all men of wealth and property take such an active interest in their affairs, from what I see of Mr. Wright, everything is managed by some one else and so because he does not actually endeavor, which comes always with a chance to be wrong, he feels very superior. Knightley nodded in agreement with her theory.

Now, while I am on the subject of work I must ask you, and you must promise to reply honestly, is it to much for you to be managing both Donwell and Hartfield? For if you are growing fatigued I will come back, I only await your word.

Knightley looked into the fire, how very much he would like to dash off a note that it was entirely too much, that she should come back immediately… but for what? To entertain him in the evening? As she had stated the day she left that would be considered inappropriate now that Mr. Woodhouse was gone. He rose and put his arm up to the mantle, steadying himself, for the truth was making him feel weak; he wanted her to come back but not as his family friend. He wanted her to come back to him and for him, he was in love with her and he wanted to marry his Dear Emma. He must think on this…what would the family think, she is young, but not so much so…and what of her?, she was just starting her adult life and now without her father to worry over her traveling she could begin to explore the world, make friends…and besides she always said she would never marry…he must quell these desires, perhaps, he thought, it was just a bit of loneliness.