Mr. Knightley took deep breaths to steady his nerves as he walked the distance from Donwell to Hartfield. His business in London had concluded by the end of his first week there but he had written to his friends and family to say he would be delayed for several more days. He had not been able to return yet, to face Emma and know he could not have her. The time away was supposed to lessen his feelings, if not take them away completely. His efforts had been for naught, as Emma never strayed from his thoughts and he had no choice but to return to Highbury.
The day he arrived home his feet moved without his permission until he was standing in the gardens at Hartfield. He knew Emma loved to be in the garden and when he did not see her immediately, he went to a more hidden spot that was one of her favorites. He found her sitting on the small bench that occupied the area, her head tilted back and eyes closed as the sun shone down on her. Mr. Knightley knew it was ungentlemanly to be watching Emma without her being aware of his presence but he needed these few moments to gaze at her before they spoke and the knowledge that she was not his to admire was seared into his soul.
He had startled her when he spoke and the conversation that followed had been formal and stilted. He was not used to their discussions being this way and he vowed that no matter what his feelings were he would ensure that they would return to their regular manner of speaking. It was as he crossed the threshold into Hartfield Thursday evening that he forced his mind away from his nervousness and rapidly beating heart, allowing a pleasant expression to suffuse his face.
"Mr. Knightley, it is good to see you," Mr. Woodhouse smiled from his chair. "It is a shame you could not be here while John and Isabella were visiting with the children."
"I am sorry to have missed them and have written to invite them to stay at Donwell when they are able in order to make up for my absence," Mr. Knightley had been forcing his eyes to remain on Mr. Woodhouse but to continue this would be impossible. Shifting his gaze to the right, he saw Emma standing beside the fireplace and watching him with a concerned and curious expression. No doubt she was most likely wondering if he was ill as she had believed him to be that day in the garden. He had been fatigued when they last spoke but he could not tell her it was because he was unable to rid her from his thoughts in order to find sleep.
He gave her a small smile that grew when he saw the relief wash over her. He had known before leaving for his trip that removing Emma from his heart would not be a possibility but he had to try. Now that he had accepted that fact, his challenge had moved on to learning how to live without her in his life. For that was what would happen when she married and left her father's home.
"You will never know how much your presence was missed while you were away, Mr. Knightley," Emma's sweet voice called to him and for a brief moment he allowed himself to think she may return his feelings but then the truth overwhelmed him, and reminded him that her words were spoken in friendship and not out of love.
"I will admit that I was very forlorn without the company of my friends and family, though the time away only makes my appreciation for those things stronger."
"How very true, indeed," Mr. Woodhouse nodded. "Tis a shame that one must go away in order to discover this. Just think, if people were aware of such a thing to begin with then they need never leave home at all." Mr. Knightley smiled at the older man, his smile growing into a grin when he saw Emma attempting to cover a laugh behind her hand.
"Now, what have I missed while I was gone?" Mr. Knightley took up his usual place in the chair beside the fireplace and crossed one booted foot over the other.
"Truly the only thing to occur was the small dinner party we hosted for the Eltons," Emma wrinkled her nose in a most becoming way as she spoke.
Raising an eyebrow at the expression, Mr. Knightley focused on Emma, "And how did you find them? In particular, how did you find the new Mrs. Elton?"
"She seemed a most pleasant sort of woman, though we did not speak much. She was constantly moving from person to person and appeared to have something to talk about with everyone," Mr. Woodhouse pulled his shawl tighter around his shoulders as he spoke.
Mr. Knightley, however, had not failed to notice how Emma's lips had pressed together as though she was desperately attempting to keep from saying something. Though Mr. Woodhouse had a propensity for naivete, Emma's judgment of a person's character tended to be more accurate. It was true that Emma occasionally missed a crucial flaw in someone's personality, but she was quick to rectify that mistake once it became known to her and adjust her assessment of that person accordingly. His servants had informed him on his arrival home of any pertinent news he had missed while away and he knew that Mrs. Elton had made her rounds in the town of Highbury several times over which meant that Emma had been given ample opportunities to scrutinize the woman.
Noticing that Mr. Woodhouse had dozed off, Mr. Knightley looked at Emma and inclined his head towards the doors that had been left open to allow some of the stifling heat caused by her father's fire to escape. Once Emma was beside him, Mr. Knightly forced his thoughts away from how lovely she looked, "Based on your expression before, I have gathered that you do not share your father's sentiments on Mrs. Elton?"
Emma sighed, "She is a vile woman who looks down her nose at everyone and believes the citizens of Highbury are to be her new project, as though we were an old dress that needed mending. Father was right on one account, she does have something to talk about with everybody and that is only because she delights in telling people what they should and should not be doing. And if you are wondering why I have not looked at you while I am speaking it is because I do not wish to see that censorious look on your face that you are so fond of giving me."
"Do I speak down to you so often that you would rather not be honest with me?" Mr. Knightley frowned. Had he truly ignored Emma's opinions so often?
Emma's gaze snapped to his and before her stare could fully deprive Mr. Knightley of his breath, the corners of her mouth quirked up, "Why Mr. Knightley, you looked positively contrite. Fear not, my dear friend, for I will continue to pester you with my thoughts whether you want them or not and I will be as splendidly honest as I always am with you."
"Good," Mr. Knightley could have cringed as he spoke but being around Emma scattered anything of good sense that he could have offered in response.
"Now that that has been settled, I have more news for you," Emma's smile widened as she spoke and she turned to lead the way back into the sitting room to pour Mr. Knightley a cup of tea, "I received another letter from Mr. Churchill and he says that he and his father have settled on next week for the ball."
Forcing his expression to remain neutral, Mr. Knightley inclined his head, "I am sure it will be a splendid affair."
Emma did not seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm as she handed him his cup, "Will you go, Mr. Knightley? I know you are not fond of dancing but all of our friends will be there."
"As well as Mrs. Elton?" Mr. Knightley covered his grin by taking a drink.
Emma simply quirked an eyebrow at him, "Unfortunately, she will be there but I have determined that I will not let her ruin my evening. She may insult me as much as she wishes, I will remain unaffected."
"I believe I shall go if only to lay eyes on this wicked creature of a woman," Mr. Knightley's response caused Emma to laugh and he felt his breathing hitch at the musical sound. They continued speaking about the ball in lighthearted tones, though Mr. Knightley found it difficult to keep a smile on his face as he thought about Emma dancing in Mr. Churchill's arms.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Emma could not help the smile that stretched across her face as she entered the Crown Inn, the location of tonight's ball. Tables arranged with an abundance of food had been placed in the rooms off the second-floor balcony to allow for dancing and chairs were arranged along the perimeter of the dance floor for those wishing to sit out the dance. Clusters of candles were scattered around the room, their flickering light bouncing off the crystal glasses meant for the guests and fresh flowers had been strung along the banister and balcony, their sweet scent filling the air. Emma's gaze was drawn up to the ceiling where the chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room.
"Well, Miss Woodhouse, what do you think?" The jovial sound of Mr. Weston's voice carried across the room as he made his way over to her, Mrs. Weston's arm entwined with his.
"It is quite possibly the loveliest thing I have ever beheld! Why in heavens did you need me to come early to help set everything up when you have very obviously already woven a spell about the room." Emma smiled at her friend before leaning over to kiss Mrs. Weston's cheek.
"I believe my husband wished to earn your final approval on the room before announcing the start of the ball," Mrs. Weston smiled fondly at her husband.
"With all my heart, you have my approval. Well done, sir!"
"And what, may I ask, has my father done so well?" Mr. Churchill came to stand beside Emma, his eagerness making the atmosphere all the more lively.
Emma smiled at him, "I was congratulating Mr. Weston on the splendid job he has done with this room.
"Indeed, he has, though I have the suspicion that Mrs. Weston had a hand in the decorations, as well." Mr. Churchill smiled warmly at his stepmother and Emma saw the faint blush on her friend's cheeks, confirming that she had indeed lent her assistance.
"You see, my dear, I told you they would not believe I had done this on my own." Mr. Weston smiled lovingly at his wife before turning to Emma and his son, "She insisted that I take the credit for the room's splendor, though I tried to tell her that no one could see this creation and doubt that she had a hand in it."
Mrs. Weston's blush deepened at the compliment and she attempted to turn the conversation away from herself, "I nearly forgot to tell you how beautiful you look, Emma. You will no doubt have many dancing partners this evening." It was Emma's turn to blush and she smiled her thanks as her eyes took in the guests filling the room.
She watched as Harriet entered with Mrs. Goddard and grinned when the girl gave her an excited wave. She hoped the ball would be everything Harriet deserved. Emma accepted the cup of punch that Mr. Churchill handed her and sipped her drink as she observed the rest of the guests arrive. Miss Fairfax entered the room with all of her usual quiet grace while Miss Bates released a steady stream of chatter in her ear. Emma had to grudgingly admit that Miss Fairfax was looking quite well with her rich brown hair pulled into an elegant chignon with loose curls framing her face. Her dark blue gown complemented her complexion and was fit to her petite figure.
When the young woman's eyes fell on Emma, her face lit into a genuine smile though Emma could not help but wonder why when she herself had to acknowledge that she had not been overly welcoming to her. Leaving her aunt to speak with Mrs. Goddard, Jane made her way over to Emma's small group and curtsied, "I thank you for giving this ball, Mr. and Mrs. Weston. I have been so looking forward to it!"
"If you must thank us, my dear, then you must also do so to my son, Frank. Twas his idea after all," Mr. Weston smiled and gestured towards his son who had remained silent since Miss Churchill had joined them.
"Then I thank you, as well, Mr. Churchill," Miss Fairfax gave a small smile before turning to Emma.
Before she could utter a single word, a deep voice spoke from behind her, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Weston, but I wanted to know if you would be so kind as to introduce me to this lovely lady?"
Emma looked over Jane's shoulder to see Mr. Samson, a young man of six and twenty who had very recently become involved in the trade business. Emma had known him all of her life and though he was below her in station, she knew him to be a very kind man and he was currently smiling at Jane.
Mr. Weston beamed at the two, "Of course, Mr. Samson! This is Miss Jane Fairfax, I'm sure you know her aunt, Miss Bates."
"Of course! She was always so good to us children as we grew up." Mr. Samson hesitated only a second before continuing, "I wonder, Miss Fairfax, if you would do me the honor of joining me in the first dance of the night?"
Miss Fairfax blushed prettily but looked quite shocked that anyone would wish to dance with her. She paused for a moment before dipping a quick curtsy, "I would be most happy to dance with you, Mr. Samson."
"Splendid! I shall come to find you when it is time," Mr. Samson smiled at Jane before bowing to the rest of the group and leaving.
"Well, I do say that it seems as though someone is quite taken with you, Miss Fairfax," Mrs. Weston smiled at the young woman.
"I must say he is a very nice young man. Comes from a good family and he already has plans to build a fine home not too far from Randalls," Mr. Weston added on.
Emma noticed that Mr. Churchill had stayed silent throughout the exchange and was now watching Miss Fairfax with a steady gaze. If she looked close enough, she thought she saw his jaw clenching every few seconds but dismissed it as a trick of the candlelight. Turning her eyes to Jane, she saw that the girl continued to blush and was attempting to stammer out a reply, "I…I am sure he is a very nice man…" Her soft voice drifted away and Emma took pity on her.
"Miss Fairfax, would you like to join me in getting another cup of punch? I find I am quite parched this evening." Miss Fairfax gave Emma a grateful smile and after the two excused themselves from their group, they walked to the refreshment table.
"Thank you, Miss Woodhouse. I do not do well being the center of attention," Jane smiled ruefully.
"Tis quite alright. You mustn't mind Mr. Weston, as kind as he is he would like to see everybody as happily settled as he is," Emma's lips quirked up in amusement at her friend and Jane gave a light laugh.
"Well, Mr. Samson does seem like a nice young man so I do not see any harm in dancing with him. Mr. Weston said he is about to build a new home, did he not? He seems quite young to be able to do that."
Emma nodded, "He has joined the trade business and from what I have heard he is doing quite well."
Miss Fairfax must have noticed an odd look on Emma's face, for she spoke hesitantly, "You do not seem to think too much of his work."
Pursing her lips, Emma was surprised to find that she trusted Miss Fairfax and decided that she could be honest with her, "I will admit that I have always been of the opinion that people who make their money in the trade business are of low origin and I have not associated too freely with them."
Jane scrunched her eyebrows together, "If I may be so bold, Miss Woodhouse, but I do not understand your reasoning. I find that anyone who has had to work and struggle for their fortune is more than worthy of associating with those who have known wealth all their lives. They know what it is to be poor and will have compassion for those they see in reduced circumstances. They worked very hard to obtain what they have and will undoubtedly continue to work hard, making them a valuable member of society."
Emma was quite astounded to hear Miss Fairfax speak so much and so passionately. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she found she wanted to hear what else the young woman had to say.
Deciding that Miss Fairfax would appreciate her honesty, Emma spoke bluntly, "You come from a good family and despite the reduced circumstances you have had to live in, you knew what it was to live amongst the wealthy social circles of your benefactor. Would you be willing to attach yourself to someone of a low station with no connections?"
Miss Fairfax surprised Emma once more when she spoke without hesitation, "Yes. As you said, Miss Woodhouse, I have seen both sides of society and though I admit that life is easier when you have wealth and connections, it doesn't mean the people are more worthy of notice. Wealth may make things easier but it cannot make you happy, especially if you are bound to someone abhorrent. So, yes, I would attach myself to a kind and honorable man who loves me but who could not dress me in the latest fashions or give me the best jewels over a snob who wanted me for nothing more than to hang on his arm and cement his place in society."
A faint smile touched Emma's lips, "I believe you may have missed your calling Miss Fairfax. You argue your points so well you should have been a barrister."
Jane gave one of her rare genuine smiles, "I should like it very much if you would call me Jane."
"Only if you will call me Emma."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Emma looks beautiful tonight, does she not Mr. Knightley?"
Mr. Knightley turned at the sound of Mrs. Weston's voice, his eyes immediately finding Emma who was having what looked to be an interesting conversation with Miss Fairfax. Mr. Knightley's heartbeat picked up speed at the sight of her and he could only nod in response to Mrs. Weston's question. If anything else was said to him at this moment he could not tell, for he was unable to pull his gaze from Emma.
Her gown was a deep shade of red that highlighted the creaminess of her skin and her thick, golden curls were pulled back at the front while the rest of it was allowed to fall to the middle of her back. Mr. Knightley had no idea her hair was so long and he found that he did not like the idea of the other men in the room being able to see it in all its glory. Just as his anger started to grow, Emma caught his gaze and smiled. She turned back to Miss Fairfax and spoke a few words before walking across the room and coming to a stop in front of him.
"Mr. Knightley, I am so happy you have come! Does the room not look lovely?"
"Yes," Mr. Knightley felt his cheeks turn pink at his witless response and he forced himself to focus on his conversation with Emma rather than how perfect she looked.
"It is going to be a splendid evening, I know it," Emma smiled as she looked around the room.
"And how do you know the ball will go so well?"
"As I said, the room is decorated to perfection, the guests are amiable, and the musicians seem to be quite capable."
"I suppose I must agree with you on those points. You even seemed to be having a pleasant conversation with Miss Fairfax," Mr. Knightley grinned as Emma scrunched her nose at him.
"If you must know, I was having a very pleasant conversation with her. I appreciate when people can be open and frank with others without it resulting in a disagreement. As I have just discovered, Jane is someone I can speak with in that way."
"Is this your way of saying you were wrong about her?" Emma pursed her lips to keep from laughing at Mr. Knightley's question, though they both knew that Emma had indeed changed her mind about the young woman.
"Enough about me, Mr. Knightley," Emma smiled. "What about you? Will you dance tonight?"
"You know very well that I have no intention of dancing and no amount of persuasion on your part will convince me."
"We shall see," Emma grinned mischievously.
Before he could respond, the commanding voice of Mrs. Elton spread throughout the room, "Ladies and gentlemen, we will be opening the ball in just a moment so if you have not chosen a partner make haste." The room bustled with the movement of couples taking their places on the floor and others finding their partners.
"Miss Woodhouse, would you be so kind as to dance with me?"
Mr. Knightley clenched his jaw as he saw his neighbor Mr. Michaels bow before holding out his hand for Emma to take. The handsome young man was only a few years older than Emma and came from a well-respected family. Despite not being of the same social standing as the Woodhouse's, he had so many other positive attributes that not even Emma would turn him away.
"Of course, Mr. Michaels, I would be delighted!" Emma smiled warmly and placed her hand in his. "May we continue our conversation after the dance, Mr. Knightley?"
"Certainly," Mr. Knightley spoke through gritted teeth and watched Mr. Michaels lead Emma into their positions on the dance floor.
"Mr. Knightley glared at the dance floor as Mr. Michaels spun Emma around the room. Her face was alight with joy and every time Mr. Michaels spoke to her, she would throw her head back with laughter. As the music came to an end, Mr Knightley had every intention of stealing Emma back but she had barely taken a step in his direction when Mr. Churchill snatched Emma's hand and claimed her for the next dance. The lively music that began to play was a stark contrast to Mr. Knightley's clenched fists and he scoured the room for any sort of distraction. His eyes fell on Mr. Elton, who had been stopped by Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Goddard.
"Will you not dance, Mr. Elton?" Mrs. Weston smiled.
"I would be most happy to, Mrs. Elton, if you would oblige to partner with me."
"Oh, dear me, I shall not be dancing this evening!"
"Mrs. Goddard, then?" Mr. Elton turned to Mrs. Weston's companion.
"I'm afraid my dancing days are behind me, sir. Though, there is a young lady just over there who is not engaged and I daresay would be a delightful partner."
Mr. Knightley allowed his gaze to slide to the right of Mrs. Goddard where he saw Miss Smith sitting quietly in one of the many chairs lining the perimeter of the room. He saw her posture straighten ever so slightly and knew that she had heard the small group's conversation.
Mr. Elton was not fast enough to hide the smirk that flashed across his face before he redirected his gaze onto the two women and responded, "Alas, I am an old married man and my days of dancing are over. Excuse me." With a short bow to the two women, Mr. Elton returned to his wife's side where it was obvious to anyone paying close enough attention that he was regaling Mrs. Elton with the events of the last few moments.
Mr. Knightley silently fumed at the man's ungentlemanly behavior. Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Goddard both wore looks of shock and dismay while Miss Smith, who had undoubtedly heard the man's remark, sat with a mortified expression on her face. Shooting a glare towards Mr. and Mrs. Elton, Mr. Knightley saw that despite being fully occupied in the current set, Emma had been privy to Mr. Elton's conversation with her dear friend and Mrs. Goddard. The look of anger and hurt on Emma's face on behalf of her friend spurred Mr. Knightley into motion.
Striding to the side of the room, he came to a stop beside Miss Smith and bowed, "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Smith?"
The young woman looked up in surprise before a lovely smile spread across her face. Nodding her head, she placed her hand in Mr. Knightley's and let him lead her into the swirl of already dancing couples. As hard as he tried to focus on his partner, Mr. Knightley could not stop his gaze from sliding to Emma throughout the set, his breath catching whenever he saw the look of joy on her face as she watched him dance with Miss Smith.
During the times he was able to give his undivided attention to Miss Smith, he was able to see why Emma had chosen her as a friend. The young lady was not as quick-witted as Emma, to be sure, but she was kind and sweet and most assuredly undeserving of being attached to a man such as Mr. Elton for the rest of her life.
As the dance came to an end, the guests drifted off to find refreshments and rest in preparation for the next set. Mr. Knightley bowed to Miss Smith and wandered to a quiet corner of the room where he watched transfixed as Emma seemed to glide toward him, the candlelight turning her hair to gold. Coming to a stop beside him, Emma turned and smiled softly.
"I thank you, Mr. Knightley, for what you have done. I know how badly you try to avoid dancing and for you to participate in it tonight in order to help Harriet fills my heart."
"You do not need to thank me, Emma. What Mr. Elton did was unforgivable."
Emma was silent for a moment before speaking again, "You were right, Mr. Knightley. I should have listened to you about Mr. Elton and my ignorance caused my friend heartache. I was so sure that I knew Mr. Elton's character that I did not stop to notice the flaws you saw."
Knowing how hard it was for Emma to make this admission, Mr. Knightley offered one of his own, "Do not be too hard on yourself. Sometimes people are so convinced in what they believe that they cannot see the truth. Everybody is guilty of this. I, myself, have discovered tonight that you have found a fine friend in Miss Smith. She is a lovely young lady and she does you credit, Emma, in the same way you do her."
Emma's eyes shone with unshed tears at Mr. Knightley's words but she blinked them away before Mr. Knightley could come up with any words of comfort. They were saved from the moment by Mr. Weston, who came to a stop in front of Emma.
"My dear Emma, you must come join in the next dance and show these people what they are missing by remaining seated!" Mr. Weston's words rose in volume as he spoke and achieved his goal of encouraging people to stand and join the few couples preparing for the next dance.
Emma laughed, "I will gladly join, Mr. Weston, as long as I am wanted."
"As you can see, just the mention of you dancing has woken these pathetic figures up," Mr. Weston spoke good-naturedly and no one could take offense from a man such as him. "Now, find your partner and make haste!"
Mr. Weston left to join his wife in speaking to the musicians and Emma held a hand to her mouth to stop her laughter from escaping. Her eyes shone with a mischievous light that made Mr. Knightley nervous and he was proven right in his fear when she turned to him.
"Now that you have proven yourself not only adept at dancing but also willing, I expect you to ask me to partner you for this dance."
Mr. Knightley was at a loss for words and he was not sure if it was his good fortune or not that Emma filled the silence, "We are not so much brother and sister as to make it unseemly, if that is what you are worried about."
Unable to form a reply that would not reveal his true feelings, Mr. Knightley simply nodded and watched as Emma slipped her small hand into his. He led her to the front of the room where they took their places amongst the other couples. Releasing a breath that he did not realize he had been holding, Mr. Knightley groaned inwardly when he heard the music begin, for this was the most intimate of any of the dances they would play that night. There was no switching of dancers, frequent contact between partners, and little to no opportunity to look anywhere else but at the person you were paired with. It was both torture for Mr. Knightley and satisfactory in that Emma would not be held close by any of the other men in attendance.
No words were spoken as he danced with Emma, his hands rarely leaving hers and when they did it was brief and only to be placed on her slim waist as the dance demanded. He could feel the occasional stare as the partygoers saw him dancing for what was probably the first time in their acquaintance with him. It was easy to allow the watchful gazes to fade into the background as he spun Emma around the room and all too soon the music came to an end and Mr. Knightley found himself bowing to Emma as she curtsied.
Mr. Knightley saw Emma being swept away by Mr. Churchill as the room broke into applause for the musicians and dancers. Pushing down the spike of anger and jealousy at the sight, Mr. Knightley quickly retreated from the crowd and stayed out of sight for the rest of the ball. It would have been easy for him to slip away and make the trip back home to Donwell but he could not force himself to leave. Not when Emma was here and Mr. Churchill seemed so determined to make her his.