A/N: Thoughts? Please let me know.
Handwriting
Frank Churchill was a gentleman, and therefore good enough for Harriet. Robert Martin was not, and therefore not. This Emma knew; everything about both men declared it. Why, just by looking at samples of each man's handwriting, this was clear.
Frank Churchill's handwriting, judging from the letters which Mrs. Weston had shown her, was very neat, very elegant. However much Mr. Knightley might denigrate it as lacking in strength, and seeming like a woman's writing in its loops and flourishes, Emma admired it – there was no denying that it was clear, and beautifully consistent.
In contrast, Robert Martin's handwriting was hardly better than a scrawl. To be fair, in his letter to Harriet it began well enough, and though lacking any embellishment, the strong, direct renderings of the letters reminded Emma of Mr. Knightley's writing. However, as the letter progressed, the quality of the writing grew erratic. In places it grew almost hard to decipher, and the paper was not entirely devoid of blots. No self-respecting gentleman would ever send a letter in that state.
It was some time before Emma began to see that Frank Churchill's handwriting, just like his façade, was laboured over so that no errors, no betrayals of his true feeling were discernable; both were carefully constructed, and neither gave much idea about the man behind them.
And it was only when she was experiencing all the pangs and terrors and doubts of unrequited love that she was able to see that Robert Martin's letter was one written in true feeling. His pen had quickened its pace with the beat of his heart, and slowed as he racked his brains for the right words which it was so vital that he find; and if there were blots it was because his hand had shaken at the thought of how his declaration might be received.
Frank Churchill's missives contained pretty phrases, feeble excuses and empty promises; Robert Martin's letter contained the honest, open declaration of a man in love; and only now – far, far too late – did Emma know that she would do anything to receive such a letter, blots and all, from Mr. Knightley.