Mr. Knightley got another sleepless night which was however worlds apart from the night before. Despite a lot of endeavor, he failed to drive Emma away from his mind and finally gave up. He tossed and turned, grinning to himself in the darkness...alright, like a fool.
And the consequence was it's already noon when he was again awaken by Riley the next day. He got up swiftly, picked out clothing himself, and spent much longer than usual in front of the mirror until the reflection satisfied himself. With heart pounding, he swung open the door when hearing Emma's knock at it, and stopped short of cuddling her while she was lightly walking in, followed by Mr. Woodhouse.
"Oh Mr. Knightley, have you caught a cold? You look feverish. I have told Emma and Riley that they shouldn't open your windows so often which no doubt will harm your health. Emma my dear, send someone for Dr. Perry immediately."
"Oh no, sir, there's no need. I assure you I'm very well." said Mr. Knightley, turning a deeper shade of red.
"Are you sure, Mr. Knightley? You look quite uneasy and uncomfortable. I suppose it's better to have Dr. Perry to see you."
"I thank you sir for your consideration. I'm quite fine, it's just a little…er…too warm! Yes, warm!"
Emma sat in the chair with a book in one hand covering half of her face, trying hard not to make any noise when chuckling uncontrollably. The glint of mischief in her eyes all along was pulling Mr. Knightley's hair out while he was busying himself convincing Mr. Woodhouse that Dr. Perry shouldn't be troubled, and pretending to be heartily into Mr. Woodhouse's compassion for Harriet, and then Mrs. Weston, and then Isabella...
When Mr. Woodhouse had conveyed the news he gathered from Miss Bates the day before, had consulted on the business matters he could think of at the time, and had expressed his opinions about how to take better care of Mr. Knightley, one or two hours had slipped away. But at last Mr. Woodhouse got tired, excusing himself with regret and intending to leave.
Mr. Knightley exhaled deeply, shooting Emma a complacent wait-and-see look before standing up.
Emma gasped and jumped to her feet, flying to her father and taking his arm, "Papa, I see you to your room."
"Excuse me, Sir! I'm getting an urgent business letter to write, could you please spare Emma for a moment to help me?"
"Of course, Mr. Knightley! Emma my dear, I can tend myself, you should take more care of Mr. Knightley as what I just said."
"But Papa..."
"Anything else?"
"No Papa..." pouted Emma.
"Very well!" said Mr. Woodhouse. And Mr. Knightley grinned like a cat getting his cream.
When he opened the door for Mr. Woodhouse and bowed good day to him and closed the door again, Emma had fled to the far end of the room, smiling impishly at him.
Mr. Knightley glanced sideways at her, stalked shortening their distance slowly and steadily, and exerted almost no effort to corner her by the window. Without a single word, despite her protest and struggle, he hold her tightly and kissed her, as feverishly as an amorous man did the young woman who had bewitched him, and doubled his plunder as her punishment.
Poor Mr. Woodhouse, how shocked would he be if he knew he had just handed his delicate, most precious younger daughter himself to a hypocritical monster?
Emma was a little surprised that she survived Mr. Knightley's kiss. She gasped for air while cuddling him greedily, and deeply blushed when sensing the extreme heat of his body.
"Should I call Riley to dress you?"
"Dress me, why? Don't you like this gown? I picked it out myself."
"The gown's fine. But I just recollected that you got yourself dressed yesterday morning."
"I thought it's an etiquette I should obey when meeting a decent young Lady."
"Are you saying that I am not ladylike enough to deserve your proper dressing?" demanded Emma playfully.
"I'm saying, my dear Emma, you are special enough to be able to take a peek at the improper side of Mr. Knightley."
Emma giggled, snuggling further against him. "May I ask you something?"
"Surely you may, what is it?"
"You have traveled the world, right?"
"Uh-huh, a little bit, not as much as I should."
"So you must have met a lot of beautiful, lovely, clever and accomplished young women, I suppose?"
Mr. Knightley raised an eyebrow, lowering his head to observe Emma's countenance, but she had hidden her face in the crook of his neck.
"Hum...yes...a few."
'Only a few? "
"All right, quite a few." Mr. Knightley made a face to himself, putting his hand on her hair.
"Did any of them fall in love with you? You're handsome, sensible, and rich." Emma lifted her head, smiling archly at him.
"Ah... I don't know, maybe, if I was like you said."
"You were!" Emma pouted, obviously didn't buy it.
Mr. Knightley smiled, planting a kiss on her forehead, "My dear Emma, it's unfair! You're asking me the feelings of others, how could I possibly know?"
Emma blinked, "Alright, then..." Emma didn't hide this time, but lowered her eyes and turned slightly pink, "have you ever loved any of them?"
Mr. Knightely wrapped his still healing right arm too around Emma's back, pulling her a little closer, "No Emma, I haven't. I believe you should have known if I have?"
"Then why? They were lovely and pretty and accomplished as you acknowledged, weren't they?" Emma was truly curious about that.
"Hum..." Mr. Knightley furrowed his brow, he hardly gave any thoughts on this sort of thing. "I don't know. I believe I was pleased when talking to a lovely young woman at a party or a dinner table, I enjoyed the pleasure too when occasionally dancing with them." Perceiving Emma's tiny displeasure, Mr. Knightley smiled and pecked on her cheek, "If you don't like what I was saying, my Emma, I much prefer to stop talking."
"No, prey continue, I want to know...I hardly know anything of you when you're away."
"Alright, where were we then?"
"You said you're pleased when talking and dancing with them."
"Yes, I was pleased when I was with them, and some friends might spice up wittingly at the spot, but none of them had ever returned to my mind once I left the assemblies. When I was alone in bed," He colored simultaneously when the last word escaped his lips, but did't stop, "I would think what Emma was doing. Did she behave when I wasn't watching her? What would she tell me if I arrived home at this moment? What gift should I bring for her? And then I would feel that I couldn't stay any longer outside and would go home as quickly as I could. And when I sat in the sitting room of Hartfield, I never wanted to go out again. I always thought it's because I love Donwell, love Highbury, and Hartfield, but now I know, it's only because you are here, my Emma."
Emma raised one hand to cup his cheek and caressed it gently, "Mr. Knightley..."
He twisted his head to kiss her palm, "I believe, Emma, I have fallen in love with you ever since your were thirteen at least."
"Why thirteen?" asked Emma inquiringly.
"I'm not sure of it, I can't fix on the very day. But you started managing Hartfield in that year, which had altered a lot of things essentially. Probably my view of you changed too, that you're no longer a spoiled little child."
"Sounds rational, but then I got another question."
"Young Emma's questions never ended." He made a face and stole a kiss from her.
"You have been nearly thirty when I was thirteen, there're theretofore a dozen years for you, why didn't you find someone to get married?"
"It's truly hard to satisfy you, my dear Emma. Well, let me see, it's been too long ago."
Emma tilted her head, looking affectionately at Mr. Knightley. For years she had been used to Mr. Knightley's bachelor status and had believed he would never marry. But once she was enlightened, once she had experienced the fieriest affections of human, she could not help wondering why it was she who was this fortunate to be ardently loved by such an exceptional man.
"I can't tell why, my Emma. I don't have any specific memory regarding any young lady." smiled he, "You know I'm a man of criteria, right? So I suppose it's simply because I have never met a young woman who had possibly matched my standards until now."
Emma sighed feelingly, leaning in his arms and wrapping him again, "Why am I this lucky, Mr. Knightley? What should I do to deserve you with all my faults and stupidities?"
"No Emma, all your faults are fancied by me for my own sake, you're the best of all creature, faultless with all your faults."
They snuggled sweetly against each other for a moment until Mr. Knightley resumed their sweet nothings.
"Emma, it's my turn to ask you something."
"I thought you knew everything of me?"
"Not at all, like 'the young girls' pursuit'!"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Knightley," said Emma ruefully, "for causing you so much pain. I'm so ashamed when recalling all the things I said and did."
"No Emma, it's my fault. Had I not been so blind, not so indifferent, had I been braver to woo you when you were of age, we might have had..." He cut it off abruptly, and both of them blushed.
"What did you want to ask me?" Emma went back to the topic first.
"I sent Riley to Abbey early this morning to fetch something for you, would you like to see it?"
"From Abbey, for me? What is it?"
Mr. Knightley reached his hand into his pocket and pulled something out. Emma looked down and gaped at what she saw. It's a vintage emerald ring, not very big, but extremely exquisite and elegant, shining blindingly on his palm.
"Emma, would you do me the honor of wearing it?" For the first time of the day Emma caught solemnity in his voice, mixed with a perceivable trace of nervousness.
"And it is...?"
"It's a family ring for the Mistress of Donwell Abbey. Will you...Emma?" He looked at her, anxiously.
"Would you, my dear Mr. Knightley, do me the honor of putting it on yourself?" She looked back into his eyes, most sincerely.
Mr. Knightley grinned widely, fumbling quite a while with a stiff right hand to put the ring on Emma's delicate finger, the very right place. And it fit perfectly, just like it's made for her!
"Now I have fixed you, my dear Emma, you could never run away from me." He pulled her in his arms, looked like a little child getting his Christmas box.
"What if I said no just now?" infected by his animation, Emma teased him impishly.
"I will kidnap you, or...kiss you in front of your father, then he will have no choice but to give you to me." grinned he wickedly.
Emma giggled lovely, "Who will believe these are words from respectable Mr. Knightley?"
"A Mr. Knightley like this is for you only, my Emma…"
Emma could make no more teases, as her lips were occupied by someone else's.