Read Emma in Love Online

Authors: Emma Tennant

Emma in Love (3 page)

BOOK: Emma in Love
10.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

But now!— now all was different. Emma had imagination enough to know the life of a governess as drudgery with no end but an unvisited grave; and sufficient compassion, as one who had (albeit for a very brief period indeed) fancied herself in love with Frank, to pity the duped maiden, abandoned almost at the church, and in a season which saw the triumph of her own wedding to Mr. Knightley. (That Harriet, so frequently seen as wife to various unwilling suitors, had also married in that fair September four years ago, must have brought sadness to the jilted bride.)

Emma had every opportunity now, to make recompense for the ill will she had borne the young woman who had, unbeknownst to Highbury, been keeper of the nefarious Frank Churchill's affections. Frank, as he had done in all the years since his adoption by his aunt, Mrs. Churchill, obeyed her: in death, even as in life, as it transpired, for a Will which dictated the joining of the Churchill family with another as illustrious in Yorkshire
had caused a breach of the engagement with Jane Fairfax, apparently with little scruple on his part. Mrs. Elton, like a shark that waits in waters bloodied by a fall, swam up with her repeated offer of an excellent situation for Jane. Mrs. Smallridge waited in hope for Miss Fairfax to take charge of the education of her children. The die was cast.

To elevate the poor creature from the misery of her circumstance – to see her married to a man infinitely superior in fortune and rank to the husbands of Mrs. Elton and Mrs. Smallridge put together – this would be a fine deed on Emma's part. She was already halfway to housing the newly-bonded couple at Hartfield – did the place not begin a fresh life as a school? Would not Jane and John Knightley find themselves happy to have all his children educated there, and any of theirs as they came along? Was Miss Fairfax not already a proficient teacher?— when Mr. Knightley, seeing from the end of the dining-table that she was distracted with her own thoughts, called out to her laughingly:

“Emma my dear, you appear too serious by half! Can you not share your reflections with us? It seems they are momentous indeed.”

Emma blushed, for John Knightley, who had been speaking with that tireless monotony that had come to particularise his address of the past year or so, ceased his argument and stared directly across the table at her. For
a moment, as Emma had no choice but to acknowledge, there came a doubt as to whether even Miss Fairfax, with her total lack of independence, would countenance a lifetime with a man such as John Knightley.

“I think of a dinner, to which we invite Miss Bates,” said Emma in reply, once she had pushed this unwelcome thought to the back of her mind. “It is an age since she came here – and old Mrs. Bates shall come too. She is partial to minced chicken and oyster patties. Dear papa would never permit old Mrs. Bates to eat her fill: ‘She should not partake so generously, at her age' – do you recall what a business there was, for me to smuggle extra helpings on to Mrs. Bates's platter?”

“And will there be others at this occasion?” said Mr. Knightley gravely. It was clear to Emma that he had not been for one moment taken in. “My brother John will be included in the party, no doubt? Have you not more amusing company to add to your list of Miss Bates and her aged mother? Mr. and Mrs. Elton, perhaps? They invite us to the Vicarage frequently enough. Surely you must have them in mind.”

Emma blushed with vexation. She knew Mr. Knightley teased her, and was glad of John Knightley's interruption at this point. “My dear Emma,” said John Knightley, taking out a monocle as he spoke and consulting a candlestick at the centre of the table, as if demanding that it bear witness to his deliberations.
“You must be aware that I prefer to weigh the pros and cons of a situation before committing myself fully to it. In this case, we examine a dinner party at Donwell Abbey. The pros, naturally, include the presence of your good self, and my brother George. But, with your permission, I already have that pleasure on numerous other occasions. The cons consist of the fact, as I am loath to testify, that Miss Bates does not present her evidence at all clearly. Indeed, when she speaks I am hard pressed not to put an end to it there and then!”

So saying, John Knightley brought down his fork loudly on the table, as if it had been a gavel. Emma shrank back in annoyance; Mr. Knightley, from his more distant chair, laughed.

“If Miss Bates's niece Miss Fairfax is come to visit Highbury,” Emma began demurely.

“Ah, now we have it,” roared Mr. Knightley, “a lovely young lady may well tip the balance here for brother John! What say you, brother? A Miss Fairfax who plays the pianoforte superbly; has a delicacy of complexion remarked on in every place she visits, and can paint and recite poetry most affectingly. Will this change your view of our little dinner at Donwell Abbey?”

“I am not in the habit of conversing with young ladies,” came the reply; and Emma, seeing her brother-in-law was confused by what he took to be a secret between her and Mr. Knightley, bit her lip and refrained
from upbraiding her husband on his rough manners. There was still enough real sadness left in her at the loss of Isabella not to reproach herself with setting up a party for John Knightley and Jane Fairfax. She almost began to wish she had not thought of it in the first place. But the feeling did not last long; and Miss Whynne knocking at the door and coming in to say little Emma cried, and should they send for Mr. Perry as her head was so hot, soon decided her to continue with her design. John Knightley's children, as Harriet Martin had observed, were sorely in need of a mother. Emma liked to think she could undertake their education over the duration of the summer at Hartfield. But she could not be responsible for them, for the rest of her life. That would be intolerable.

“We have still our backgammon contest to conclude,” remarked Mr. Knightley in a milder tone when Emma reappeared from the nurseries with the news that her younger niece was already asleep again, calmed by milk and by the attentions of her aunt. “You were winning, Emma – but I wager brother John will beat you before the evening is out. Will you play?”

Emma, knowing this to be a conciliatory gesture, agreed; but by showing reserve in her acceptance she demonstrated her determination to go ahead with her party; while Mr. Knightley's frequent glances across the board manifested in equal measure his continuing
disapproval of Emma's matchmaking tendencies. These, as she had reminded him, had ended with the only successful match to have come about: that between herself and him; and that it had taken place by accident was a fact of which Mr. Knightley constantly reminded her.

Chapter 4

I here had not been an occasion on the previous evening for Emma to bring up with Mr. Knightley the vexed subject of Mrs. Elton and her visit to Hartfield. Before mounting into the chaise which would take her down to Miss Bates the next morning she therefore stopped him as he crossed the hall of Donwell Abbey and demanded he put an end to such indiscretions on the part of the Vicar's wife.

“Mrs. Elton – Augusta, as she would have me address her, though I absolutely refuse to do so – has the want of delicacy to take her charity to our family! I insist that you speak directly to Mr. Elton. She takes with her a stranger, a Mrs. Smallridge, who eyes the furniture that was in the private ownership of dear Papa— and, I may
remind you, is mine! They are no more than vulgar trippers; and familiar with it, with Mrs. Elton's ‘Mr. K' and ‘Knightley' – does it not annoy you? – can you not demand that I am left alone to supervise my little school in the house I lived in, and loved, from childhood?”

“Beloved Emma, calm yourself,” said Mr. Knightley, for he perceived that she was overcome at the insult she fancied paid to her years with Mr. Woodhouse; and thus to her name and home. “But I may say, whether you like to hear it or not, that Mrs. Elton's sentiments do not differ one jot from your own. There – you must forgive me, my dear. My anxieties over the prospect of my wife at the head of a school are, however, of a more serious nature than whether or not impediments to her self-esteem come in the shape of muffins proffered to the children there.”

“What are you saying?” cried Emma, who was quick to suspect censure from Mr. Knightley, accustomed as she had been from her earliest years to receive and ponder a lecture or a snub from him.

“I say that Mrs. Elton brings her charity from the church when she goes out, seeking to do good. Yours comes from the squire: that is all.”

“So there is no distinction between us,” said Emma bitterly. “I did not think I would hear this.”

“No, now Emma,” said Mr. Knightley, laughing. “I shall go further, whether you threaten to banish me from
your heart or not. I shall say that you must take care not to give the impression to the children that they are settled here permanently in the school. The experiment may not succeed. Brother John may wish to remove his family to London; and it will be Christmas before they come here again. As it is, he spoke of Miss Whynne in the highest terms only yesterday, saying he would entrust the younger members of his family to her anywhere; while Henry and John must go away to boarding school. If I can assist them to do so, that is,” he added in a lower tone.

“So your brother has already complained at my teaching methods,” said Emma, who did not hear the grave note which had entered his voice. She was in a glow, from the anger she felt against Mr. Knightley and John; and for a minute or so she determined that there should be no Mrs. John Knightley: he did not deserve Miss Fairfax; and the dark head which Frank Churchill had once wished to crown with his mother's jewels should remain ungarnished by those gems of old Mrs. Knightley's which had not been particularly reserved for
her
.

“My brother thinks the world of you, Emma,” said Mr. Knightley. “But it is for him to decide how his children shall be educated, and how he shall pass the remainder of his life. You know to what I allude, I have little doubt. John has told me he has no wish to remarry.
You will do well to remember that, Emma.”

“He may do as he pleases,” said Emma crossly, mounting up into the chaise and taking the reins. Then, seeing a parcel on the floor of the vehicle, she pulled it up into her arms and sniffed it vigorously, before bursting into laughter. “You are sending a hindquarter of pork down to Miss Bates and her mother by this means? My goodness, Mr. Knightley, they will think me better than Mrs. Elton, if I appear so laden with your kindness. Miss Bates has not yet recovered from your gift of the last bushel of apples from Donwell; she had it from Mrs. Hodges that we had no apple pies or baked apples for the whole of the spring, due to your munificence. She and her mother will be overcome, I am sure!”

For all that Emma spoke in the bantering tone so frequently adopted by couples who have heard too much from each other over the years, be it praise or blame, her eyes brimmed with tears, and Mr. Knightley, seeing she was upset, came up to the carriage and laid his hand on the edge, fearing, it seemed, to go further and lay a finger on her. “I only wished to remind you that a man of five and thirty is capable of making his own decisions on the subject of his future wife, Emma. And John—”

At this point John Knightley came into view, his son George and a tall fishing-rod as accompaniment; and
Mr. Knightley looked away, displeased at the untimeliness of the interruption.

“Do they go to this famous lake, of which I have never heard you speak?” said Emma, recovering her spirits. For she loved Mr. Knightley; so she said to herself twenty times a day; and it had ever been his habit to find fault with her and to see the omissions in her heart which were in need of reparation and supply. She knew he loved
her
: he tried to curb his manner; but, as Emma told herself, the man she had married was as English as the Abbey, the climate, the very soil where Donwell stood. He was blunt; reserved; but in every way superior to a man who would have been more fulsome in his commendations and more lacking in the censure she knew herself on occasion to require.

So Emma told herself; but she knew, for all her faults, that she must be perfect. And secretly she believed Mr. Knightley found her so also.

“We were speaking of the lake,” called Mr. Knightley in a voice that was distinctly jocular, to his brother. “Emma says she has never heard it talked of. You must explain, brother John, that it was on a part of our mother's land, let out on a lease and put in your name and only now returned to us; it is quite at the other extremity of the county.”

“Yes, it was an interesting question of the escrow,” John Knightley began; but Emma, unable to hide her
desire not to hear of it, whipped up the horse and departed at a trot down the Abbey drive. If there was one subject she could not bear, it was land law and all its ramifications. The very idea of John Knightley discussing his mother's portion, and the land which he now inherited, was anathema to her. It was with all the greater determination that she hastened to Highbury to extend the dinner invitation. John Knightley and Jane Fairfax should marry as soon as possible; and Emma placed them already in a comfortable farmhouse at the other extremity of Surrey.

Chapter 5

I do not know what your opinion may be, Mrs. Weston,” said Mr. Knightley, “of Emma's desire for a party at Donwell Abbey. She speaks of a dinner, but she will envisage larger numbers than our table can provide for. I believe she forgets we have company here already, in the form of my brother John; by the time she has invited the whole of Highbury, there will be no room to seat him anywhere.”

“And I bring news of a swelling in our own ranks,” said Mrs. Weston. “I came to the Abbey to inform you—”

“To inform Emma,” said Mr. Knightley, his eyes still alight with merriment; for he could understand that
Mrs. Weston refused to refer to his allusions to his brother, and yet would not be able to refuse a discussion of it with him, if pressed. I was the last one she wanted to see, concluded Mr. Knightley with some satisfaction: she comes across the fields from Randalls to conspire with Mrs. Knightley and finds herself caught by the husband, while the wife goes by road to extend her invitations to Miss Bates and her niece.

BOOK: Emma in Love
10.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Apprentice by Eric Guindon
Justicia uniforme by Donna Leon
Nostalgia by M.G. Vassanji
Golden Scorpio by Alan Burt Akers
Murder Club by Mark Pearson