Emma: The Wild and Wanton Edition (26 page)

“Very true, Miss Woodhouse, so she will. He is the very best young man — But, my dear Jane, if you remember, I told you yesterday he was precisely the height of Mr. Perry. Miss Hawkins — I dare say, an excellent young woman. His extreme attention to my mother — wanting her to sit in the vicarage pew, that she might hear the better, for my mother is a little deaf, you know — it is not much, but she does not hear quite quick. Jane says that Colonel Campbell is a little deaf. He fancied bathing might be good for it — the warm bath — but she says it did him no lasting benefit. Colonel Campbell, you know, is quite our angel. And Mr. Dixon seems a very charming young man, quite worthy of him. It is such a happiness when good people get together — and they always do.

Now, here will be Mr. Elton and Miss Hawkins; and there are the Coles, such very good people; and the Perrys — I suppose there never was a happier or a better couple than Mr. and Mrs. Perry. I say, sir,” turning to Mr. Woodhouse, “I think there are few places with such society as Highbury. I always say, we are quite blessed in our neighbours. My dear sir, if there is one thing my mother loves better than another, it is pork — a roast loin of pork — ”

“As to who, or what Miss Hawkins is, or how long he has been acquainted with her,” said Emma, “nothing I suppose can be known. One feels that it cannot be a very long acquaintance. He has been gone only four weeks.”

Nobody had any information to give; and, after a few more wonderings, Emma said,

“You are silent, Miss Fairfax — but I hope you mean to take an interest in this news. You, who have been hearing and seeing so much of late on these subjects, who must have been so deep in the business on Miss Campbell’s account — we shall not excuse your being indifferent about Mr. Elton and Miss Hawkins.”

“When I have seen Mr. Elton,” replied Jane, “I dare say I shall be interested — but I believe it requires
that
with me. And as it is some months since Miss Campbell married, the impression may be a little worn off.”

“Yes, he has been gone just four weeks, as you observe, Miss Woodhouse,” said Miss Bates, “four weeks yesterday. A Miss Hawkins! Well, I had always rather fancied it would be some young lady hereabouts; not that I ever — Mrs. Cole once whispered to me — but I immediately said, ‘No, Mr. Elton is a most worthy young man — but’ — In short, I do not think I am particularly quick at those sort of discoveries. I do not pretend to it. What is before me, I see. At the same time, nobody could wonder if Mr. Elton should have aspired — Miss Woodhouse lets me chatter on, so good-humouredly. She knows I would not offend for the world. How does Miss Smith do? She seems quite recovered now. Have you heard from Mrs. John Knightley lately? Oh! those dear little children. Jane, do you know I always fancy Mr. Dixon like Mr. John Knightley. I mean in person — tall, and with that sort of look — and not very talkative.”

“Quite wrong, my dear aunt; there is no likeness at all.”

“Very odd! but one never does form a just idea of any body beforehand. One takes up a notion, and runs away with it. Mr. Dixon, you say, is not, strictly speaking, handsome?”

“Handsome! Oh! no — far from it — certainly plain. I told you he was plain.”

“My dear, you said that Miss Campbell would not allow him to be plain, and that you yourself — ”

“Oh! as for me, my judgment is worth nothing. Where I have a regard, I always think a person well-looking. But I gave what I believed the general opinion, when I called him plain.”

“Well, my dear Jane, I believe we must be running away. The weather does not look well, and grandmama will be uneasy. You are too obliging, my dear Miss Woodhouse; but we really must take leave. This has been a most agreeable piece of news indeed. I shall just go round by Mrs. Cole’s; but I shall not stop three minutes: and, Jane, you had better go home directly — I would not have you out in a shower! We think she is the better for Highbury already. Thank you, we do indeed. I shall not attempt calling on Mrs. Goddard, for I really do not think she cares for any thing but
boiled
pork: when we dress the leg it will be another thing. Good morning to you, my dear sir. Oh! Mr. Knightley is coming too. Well, that is so very! I am sure if Jane is tired, you will be so kind as to give her your arm. Mr. Elton, and Miss Hawkins! Good morning to you.”

Emma, alone with her father, had half her attention wanted by him while he lamented that young people would be in such a hurry to marry — and to marry strangers too — and the other half she could give to her own view of the subject. It was to herself an amusing, dreadful, and a very welcome piece of news, as proving that Mr. Elton could not have suffered long; but she was sorry for Harriet: Harriet must feel it — and all that she could hope was, by giving the first information herself, to save her from hearing it abruptly from others. It was now about the time that she was likely to call. If she were to meet Miss Bates in her way! and upon its beginning to rain, Emma was obliged to expect that the weather would be detaining her at Mrs. Goddard’s, and that the intelligence would undoubtedly rush upon her without preparation.

The shower was heavy, but short; and it had not been over five minutes, when in came Harriet, with just the heated, agitated look which hurrying thither with a full heart was likely to give; and the “Oh! Miss Woodhouse, what do you think has happened!” which instantly burst forth, had all the evidence of corresponding perturbation. As the blow was given, Emma felt that she could not now shew greater kindness than in listening; and Harriet, unchecked, ran eagerly through what she had to tell. “She had set out from Mrs. Goddard’s half an hour ago — she had been afraid it would rain — she had been afraid it would pour down every moment — but she thought she might get to Hartfield first — she had hurried on as fast as possible; but then, as she was passing by the house where a young woman was making up a gown for her, she thought she would just step in and see how it went on; and though she did not seem to stay half a moment there, soon after she came out it began to rain, and she did not know what to do; so she ran on directly, as fast as she could, and took shelter at Ford’s.” Ford’s was the principal woollen-draper, linen-draper, and haberdasher’s shop united; the shop first in size and fashion in the place. “And so, there she had set, without an idea of any thing in the world, full ten minutes, perhaps — when, all of a sudden, who should come in — to be sure it was so very odd! but they always dealt at Ford’s — who should come in, but Elizabeth Martin and her brother! Dear Miss Woodhouse! only think. I thought I should have fainted. I did not know what to do. I was sitting near the door — Elizabeth saw me directly; but he did not; he was busy with the umbrella. I am sure she saw me, but she looked away directly, and took no notice; and they both went to quite the farther end of the shop; and I kept sitting near the door! Oh! dear; I was so miserable! I am sure I must have been as white as my gown. I could not go away you know, because of the rain; but I did so wish myself anywhere in the world but there. Oh! dear, Miss Woodhouse — well, at last, I fancy, he looked round and saw me; for instead of going on with her buyings, they began whispering to one another. I am sure they were talking of me; and I could not help thinking that he was persuading her to speak to me — (do you think he was, Miss Woodhouse?) — for presently she came forward — came quite up to me, and asked me how I did, and seemed ready to shake hands, if I would. She did not do any of it in the same way that she used; I could see she was altered; but, however, she seemed to
try
to be very friendly, and we shook hands, and stood talking some time; but I know no more what I said — I was in such a tremble! I remember she said she was sorry we never met now; which I thought almost too kind! Dear, Miss Woodhouse, I was absolutely miserable! By that time, it was beginning to hold up, and I was determined that nothing should stop me from getting away — and then — only think! I found he was coming up towards me too — slowly you know, and as if he did not quite know what to do; but all that did was give me more ample opportunity to look at him. Oh, Miss Woodhouse. How did I ever think he was any thing but ravishingly handsome? His hair, his glorious blond hair, was wind whipped and falling across his forehead. My fingers itched to reach toward him and sweep his hair back. It was such a pressing desire that I
know
beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was written clearly on my face. I know so, because his eyes flashed that way they did right before he
kissed
me.” These last words were whispered brokenly. “And so he came, stopping right in front of me — the warmth of him, oh how it warmed me to be standing so close to him again — and spoke, and I answered — I have no concept of what we said to each other, for our eyes were what were truly speaking. Mine must have been telling him how much I missed him, because that is what his answered back as well. And I stood for a minute, feeling dreadfully, you know, one can’t tell how; and then I took courage, and said it did not rain, and I must go; and so off I set; and I had not got three yards from the door, when he came after me! I can’t begin to tell you how much I hoped he had followed me to wrap me in his arms again but he came only to say, if I was going to Hartfield, he thought I had much better go round by Mr. Cole’s stables, for I should find the near way quite floated by this rain. Oh! dear, I thought it would have been the death of me! I was so embarrassed by how much I desired him to touch me. I was certain I would die, either from his lack of touch or from the horror of wanting him so badly. So I said, I was very much obliged to him: you know I could not do less; and then he seemed to
snap
! One second he was staring at me so sadly, the next, he had was breathing my name and then grabbing my hand. Even though I could tell he was in quite a state, his fingers were still the gentle, calloused fingers I had learned to crave. He tugged me toward the side of Fords, and we jogged out of the rain and into the shelter of the eaves — yes, I went with him. Willingly! Oh, so willingly. He looked at me then, like he was a thirsty man in the middle of the salty ocean — surrounded completely by what he needed but could never have. ‘Harriet, I cannot stop thinking of you,’ he said. And I know I said it back, though I can’t quite remember how. I was completely frozen. And then he was pulling me toward him. His big arms were wrapping around my back, and I was pressed to him completely. It was so wonderful, Miss Woodhouse. The first time I had felt at home in simply months. I was completely surrounded by him, my nose buried in his jacket. I could have stayed there forever, but his fingers were suddenly beneath my chin. Slowly and gently, he tipped my head back until we were looking into each other’s eyes. He smiled at me, his wonderful, crooked smile, and then he,” Harriet’s eyes closed in bliss. “Oh, and then he kissed me. So softly. I thought I was going to weep from it. He pulled back ever so slightly and brushed his nose across mine, his arms tightening around me. I felt him — ” she looked at the ground and blushed, “
aroused
against my stomach, and I wanted him so badly I could not see straight. I do not know
what
came over me, but, I —
grabbed
him! Just placed my hand right over his arousal and wrapped my fingers as far around as his size and trousers would allow.”

“Harriet!” Emma cried out in alarm.

Harriet groaned, “I know, I
know
. I should not have.” But then her eyes took on a wicked glint. “But I cannot say I am sorry. His reaction was — well it was simply the most thrilling thing I have encountered in all my days. He jerked back as though scalded and looked upon me with utter disbelief, but when my fingers did not move, he must have deduced I touched him on purpose. He
growled
at me — actually growled — though it was not an angry noise. And then his hand covered mine where mine covered him, and he pressed my palm more tightly against his length. He began to move his hips, thrusting against my hold and gasping with each breath. I soon recovered from my shock and began moving my hand against his thrusts. That was when he hiked up my skirts and fairly shoved his fingers into my drawers.”

“Oh, this is not good,” Emma muttered beneath her breath, equal parts horrified and titillated. She squirmed in her seat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure that was building between her thighs, while Harriet continued her story without even pausing to acknowledge Emma’s discomfort.

“His lips crashed down upon mine once more, his kiss so different now — so
hungry.
We continued to stroke one another, my hand upon him wrenching groans from his chest that vibrated into mine; his fingers lighting a fire that shot all throughout my body.
And then, I broke.” Harriet paused to draw in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes dreamily.

After several seconds that grew increasingly awkward for Emma, she finally cleared her throat. “Pardon —
broke
?” Emma asked, shocked at her breathless voice.

Harriet sighed and opened her eyes, bobbing her head happily. “The most exquisite pleasure I have ever known just poured through me. I cried out into his mouth, and his entire body went rigid against me. He groaned so deeply, as though he were dying, and the front of his trousers grew damp beneath my palm.”

Emma clapped a hand over her mouth and starred at Harriet in mute shock.

“He held me so tenderly, then,” Harriet continued, “brushing kisses across my cheeks, my eye lids, my nose. He pulled back and smiled at me, and then,” she gasped with what sounded suspiciously like a sob, “Oh, Miss Woodhouse, I do not know what I was thinking. I looked straight into his eyes and said, ‘Mr. Elton!”

Emma’s gasp of horror bounded through the parlour.

“Not because I thought he was Mr. Elton, of course,” Harriet rushed to say, her voice dripping with misery, “but because I knew I was supposed to be getting over Mr. Elton! Though probably not by kissing and touching Mr. Martin in the rain. I could see from the absolute sorrow that passed over Mr. Martin’s face that he
did
think that I was imagining kissing and touching Mr. Elton. Those wonderful arms of his dropped me like a rock. He looked at me as though I had betrayed him horribly. He stepped away from me, wrenched his hat from his head to hold in front of his hips, bowed and then he went back to Elizabeth, and I came round by the stables — I believe I did — but I hardly knew where I was, or any thing about it. Oh! Miss Woodhouse, I would rather done any thing than have it happen: and yet, you know, there was a sort of satisfaction in seeing him behave so pleasantly and so kindly, at least before he was touching me beneath my skirts.” Harriet groaned and a tear formed in the corner of her eye. “He thought I was thinking of another man! And what Elizabeth must be thinking, too. Oh! Miss Woodhouse, do talk to me and make me comfortable again.”