Jump to new as of November 14, 2002
Emma had immensely enjoyed all her dances so far. Frank Churchill, while she knew now that she was not in love with him, was certainly a most diverting and entertaining partner, and she had taken great pleasure in the two dances she had danced with him. She had also enjoyed her pleasant dances with Mr. Weston, Mr. Otway, and even the pert Mr. William Cox. The ball at the Crown was a glorious success, and Emma felt herself glowing with the joy of such a wonderful evening.
The only blot to mar the perfection of the night was Mr. Elton's direct snub of poor, dear Harriet, and of herself. However, Emma was elated when she saw her good friend Mr. Knightley approach Harriet and lead her to the set. Though Emma was happily dancing with Mr. Churchill at the time, she was very glad to see Harriet stand up with Mr. Knightley, and perhaps, was she, a little jealous? Of course not! She and Mr. Knightley were almost brother and sister. Were they not? She tossed that fleeting notion aside to nervous flutters in her stomach about the dance - how dearly she wished it to come off well - and concentrated again on her dance with Frank.
After supper, and as the hour grew later, Emma sought a bit of relief for her weary little feet, and some solitude from the noise of the party, and so she took herself outside for a short walk. Unbeknownst to her, Mr. Knightley was also on the patio, standing at a large open window, admiring the goings-on inside.
Since Emma had not had an opportunity to speak with him earlier and thank him for his kindness to her friend, she decided that there was no time like the present, and began. "Mr. Knightley, I cannot begin to thank you for what you did for Harriet. Had I known how rude Mr. Elton could be, I would have ensured that she was not wanting a partner for any moment." There was a nervous flutter inside her that had not quieted since his early dance with Harriet. She did not know the cause.
"Emma," Mr. Knightley began, with a touch of severity in his voice, "Why do the Eltons wish to snub Harriet, surely she has done nothing to them. Moreover, Emma, they aimed at wounding more than Harriet. Why are they your enemies?" His voice softened at the end of this, for he knew he had no cause to be angry with her for his.
He looked searchingly at her, trying to see into her mind, but upon receiving no answer, he continues. "She ought not to be angry with you, I suspect, whatever he may be. Emma, you say nothing, but confess, you did want Elton to marry Harriet."
"I did," she replied, looking down, "and they cannot forgive me."
He unexpectedly (to himself as well as to her) reached over and took her hand in his own. "Emma, I shall not scold you. I must say that you would have chosen for him better than he has chosen for himself. Harriet Smith has some first-rate qualities, which Mrs. Elton is totally without. I must admit that you have done wonders with her. I found Harriet more conversable than I expected."
Emma looked at him with extreme gratification. "You are right, Mr. Knightley, Mr. Elton is not deserving of Harriet. There is a littleness in him, which you saw, but I did not. I cannot believe I was so deceive by him."
Mr. Knightley was still grasping her hand, and as he spoke he began to gently caress her palm. "Emma, time will heal your wounds, I know the Elton's have hurt you, but they are of no consequence, and you - and Harriet - will do better to put them out of your minds."
At that moment, Mr. Weston interrupted their quiet conversation. Mr. Knightley immediately dropped her hand, and seemed to take a step back. Emma was puzzled by his reaction to their old friend's arrival, and was more than a little disappointed that he released her hand. It had fit within his so nicely.
"Come, Emma, everyone inside is lazy and asleep. You must lead the way." He gestured through the open window at the group dispersing from the last dance. They did appear to be a sleepy crowd; only four couples had danced in the last. Mr. Weston then made his way back inside, and began to excite the spirits of the party.
"I am ready," Emma replied, "whenever I am wanted." She turned and began to walk towards the door that led into the ballroom.
"Whom are you going to dance with?" Asked Mr. Knightley, calling after her.
She stopped and turned. Then she hesitated for a moment, and then replied, "With you, if you will ask me."
"Will you?" he said, offering his hand to her again.
Emma placed her hand in his. "Indeed I will. We are not so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper."
"Brother and sister! No, indeed."
Mr. Knightley led Emma by the hand, perhaps a little too eagerly, into the ballroom and to their place at the head of the set. He noticed with some pleasure that Frank Churchill had asked Miss Smith to dance, and that Jane Fairfax was dancing with Mr. Cox. He also noted, with some less pleasure that Mrs. Elton had also joined, and was dancing with Mr. Otway, near the end of the set. At least there she would be unable to make comments.
As the musicians began to play Mr. Beveridge's Maggot, Mr. Knightley and Emma bowed to one another and started the dance.
As Mr. Knightley's arm encircled Emma's waist and they changed places, he thought to lessen the awkwardness he was feeling by speaking to her. "Emma," he began, "I do not believe I have told you yet that you look lovely this evening." He blushed as he spoke the words ("Why did I not say something more neutral," he mentally chided himself), and blushed even more as he saw a color rise to her cheeks. She was positively glowing, and he did not think he had ever seen her look more lovely.
Mr. Knightley thought it best, after that, to remain silent. This conversation would not do.
Emma was somewhat startled by Mr. Knightley's compliment, but after a moment regained her composure, after all, he was an old family friend, and such a compliment was not so out of place.
She desperately wished she could come up with a witty reply, to laugh off his compliment with some personal, witty critique of all her faults. But for some reason, at the moment, she felt that he was truly in earnest, and she did not wish to reproach him.
At last, she spoke, as they do-si-doed and began to weave in and out with the other couples. "Mr. Knightley, may I just tell you again how happy I am at your kindness to poor Harriet? I am sure that she was immensely gratified, and I must thank you for that."
"Emma, you know that I do not wish to ever see yourself or your friends hurt by harsh words." After this comment they both remained silent as they took hands with another couple and wove their way further into the set.
As the dance wore on, it was clear that both Emma and Mr. Knightley were somewhat uncomfortable. Their thoughts were on each other, yet neither knew what to say.
Finally, as they began the set over again, Emma found herself looking at Jane Fairfax, who was standing near Mrs. Weston, near the doorway to the ballroom. "Mr. Knightley, I see another young woman who is alone, standing over by the door. Surely you must wish to rescue her from her solitude as you did for my friend, earlier. I would not mind it if you left me, for you have a nobler purpose at heart."
As she spoke, she realized, suddenly, how much she truly would mind if he abandoned her, no matter what the purpose. Why was she feeling this way?
"Emma," he began, with a slight tremor in his voice, "I would not, at the moment, wish to be dancing with any lady but you. I am sure that Miss Fairfax would not have had difficulty finding a partner, if she had wished it. I am sure that she is remaining out for a personal reason. Indeed, she looks rather pale." He focused his attention on Jane Fairfax for a moment, as he made his way through the pattern of dancers, and back to his Emma.
Wait a moment - HIS Emma? When had he started referring to her as thus, even in his mind? It had been several, nay, many years since he had been in love with her, this he knew, but he had never allowed his innermost feelings to creep beyond their deep boundaries. His feelings were certainly running away from him this evening.
As he saw Emma face him again, her mouth twisted into a small smile, he realized that he was certainly on the verge of losing her, if he did not act quickly. He was almost certain that she was in love with Frank Churchill, the scoundrel, and he could not allow himself to give her up to him without a fight. He had almost resolved to speak with Mr. Churchill after the ball about his intentions, and challenge him, if necessary, when Emma spoke.
"Mr. Knightley, I hope you do not believe that I was implying I did not wish to dance with you. You have certainly shown yourself a fine dancer by your exhibition with Harriet, and I am very pleased to stand up with you. I would not wish for another partner."
"Emma, do you mean that?" He asked, almost incredulously. He kept thinking he saw a glimpse of something more than friendship in her eyes and her smile, yet he was still afraid to speak.
"I do," she replied, all the teasing gone out of her voice.
He held his breath for a moment, savoring the sound of her earnest, sweet voice telling him that she was pleased to dance with him. Could she possibly mean more than that?
Emma's thoughts were much the same. She had just realized what her words to Mr. Knightley meant. "Surely he does not think of me in that way? He is like an elder brother to me. Well, not quite a brother, but certainly not... Mr. Knightley....?"
That moment of Emma's realization brought the final notes of the dance, and she bowed to her partner, and allowed him to lead her from the floor.