Emma (47 page)

“I did not complain, as I remember,” Emma murmured, grateful to the cool evening air which calmed her rising colour.

“No, you did not,” he agreed. He sat at the edge of the bench and peered earnestly down at her, though she could barely hold his gaze for the intensity of it. “I forced things upon you that you may not have been prepared for.”

“I admit the moment in the library gave me some anxiety, but I would not have complied if I had believed my options wholly limited to your desires alone.”

“I feared I had ruined the trust between us.”

Emma shook her head. “No, Mr Knightley, I”—and here she was forced to turn her face from him—“I enjoyed it very much.”

“Then allow me to return the favour in kind.”

She had no understanding of his meaning. However, Mr Knightley did not leave her in suspense for long. He moved to kneel before her. He held her hem and as he gazed up at her from his position, he lifted her skirts, dragging his fingertips up the outside of her legs beginning at her ankles.

“Lower your décolletage, sweet Emma,” he directed her warmly.

Was there aught she could resist him when he asked with such passionate feeling? She thought not. The prospect of getting caught appealed to her and caused her heart to race. Mr Knightley tracked a path along her thighs with his hands. Her core tingled with anticipation, tickled as moisture collected there, ready for him to take her. Towards that end, she pushed the scooped neckline of her yellow gown beneath her breasts. Mr Knightley’s gaze fixed upon them with a dark murmur of approval.

“Lean back on your hands, love.”

Emma dropped her hands to either side of her and leant back, not understanding, but willing to do as he bid her. Mr Knightley pushed her dress high on her thighs. Cold air touched her naked legs and he exposed her pussy to his gaze. Emma gasped, scrambling backward. She had not expected
this
.

“Mr Knightley! Someone might see!” While the thrill of being caught excited her, she knew the consequences would destroy her reputation. What had seemed a good idea at first now kept her in horrible suspense.

“Hush, Emma. I have you.” And in so saying, Mr Knightley pressed his face to her cunny. He inhaled deeply before dragging his tongue between her folds.

Emma squeaked in surprise but he manoeuvred his shoulders between her knees, took hold of her opening and held it apart as he tasted her. His tongue lavished silent praise on her womanhood, fondling the nub she so adored him to touch. His lips closed on it, he pulled it between his lips and Emma could only cling to the threads of sanity as they were torn from her grasp.

Mr Knightley’s fingers stole inside her, pressing deep into her channel as he blissfully tortured her cleft. She could not keep her hands from touching him, nor did she wish to, and Emma buried her fingers into his hair to hold him against her. She felt scandalous, alive, horrified, desired, desperate and on the verge of understanding all human motivation that ever was to identify and seek the source of pleasure. Dear heavens! The coil of lust fattened around that tiny spot, fluttered against his fingers, catching them and releasing until the stars burst overhead to shower her with almighty beauty.

Emma wept on a gasp. Mr Knightley replaced ravenous demand with gentle kisses and words of high praise for her beauty, strength and gratitude that she would share them with him.

Emma came back to herself, smoothing Mr Knightley’s hair at his temples. He looked up from his feast, quick to lower her skirts and recover her bared breasts.

“Elegantly claimed, dear Emma. Even Aphrodite herself would honour you tonight.”

Emma knew she blushed but she cared not at all. “I enjoy all the ways you touch me,” she told him. “I pray I never cease learning and you never have reason to cease teaching.”

They were interrupted by the bustle of Mr Weston calling on everybody to begin dancing again from the porch.

“You go,” Knightley told her. “I must prepare myself, but you have hardly a hair out of place.”

She nodded and circled around to the balcony from the back way, coming upon Mr Weston from the shadows just behind other female party guests.

“Come, Miss Woodhouse, Miss Otway, Miss Fairfax, what are you all doing? Come Emma, set your companions the example. Everybody is lazy! Everybody is asleep!”

“I am ready,” said Emma, “whenever I am wanted.” She nearly blushed again as she caught sight of Knightley’s wicked smile upon hearing her words. He tugged the lapels of his coat—the only indication, if someone were of a mind to take note, that he had made untoward use of his time away from the party.

“Whom are you going to dance with?” asked Mr Knightley.

She hesitated a moment, then replied, “With you, if you will ask me.”

“Will you?” said he, offering his hand.

“Indeed I will. You have shown that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all
improper
.”

“Brother and sister! No, indeed.” He winked at her jest as he led her inside.

Chapter Three

This little explanation with Mr Knightley of their opinions regarding Mr Elton and Harriet Smith gave Emma considerable pleasure. It was one of two very agreeable recollections of the ball, the second of which was very much on her mind as she walked about the lawn the next morning to enjoy. While she was extremely glad that they had come to so good an understanding respecting the Eltons, and that their opinions of both husband and wife were so much alike, and his praise of Harriet, his concession in her favour, was peculiarly gratifying, she could not still the delicious flutter of physical success she carried over from their clandestine meeting behind the Crown. Still, she reasoned that a proper lady did not dwell on impropriety, but engaged her mind with the activities that involved those of her own society. It was expected and less likely to cause her to blush or simper in a way that was detectible to the keen eye. And so she determined to keep her mind on the revelation of the former—the charitable explanation shared by Mr Knightley. A safer subject by far.

The impertinence of the Eltons, which for a few minutes had threatened to ruin the rest of her evening, had been the occasion of some of its highest satisfactions, and she looked forward to another happy result—the cure of Harriet’s infatuation. From Harriet’s manner of speaking of the circumstance before they quitted the ballroom, she had strong hopes. It seemed as if her eyes were suddenly opened, and she were enabled to see that Mr Elton was not the superior creature she had believed him. The fever was over, and Emma could harbour little fear of the pulse being quickened again by injurious courtesy. She depended on the evil feelings of the Eltons for supplying all the discipline of pointed neglect that could be farther requisite. Harriet rational, Frank Churchill not too much in love, and Mr Knightley not wanting to quarrel with her—how very happy a summer must be before her!

She was not to see Frank Churchill this morning. He had told her that he could not allow himself the pleasure of stopping at Hartfield, as he was to be at home by the middle of the day. She did not regret it.

Having arranged all these matters, looked them through, and put them all to rights, she was just turning to the house with spirits freshened up for the demands of the two little boys, as well as of their grandpapa, when the great iron sweep-gate opened, and two persons entered whom she had never less expected to see together—Frank Churchill, with Harriet leaning on his arm—actually Harriet! A moment sufficed to convince her that something extraordinary had happened. Harriet looked white and frightened, and he was trying to cheer her. The iron gates and the front-door were not twenty yards asunder, they were all three soon in the hall, and Harriet, immediately sinking into a chair, fainted away.

A young lady who faints must be recovered, questions must be answered and surprises be explained. Such events are very interesting, but the suspense of them cannot last long. A few minutes made Emma acquainted with the whole.

Miss Smith and Miss Bickerton, another parlour-boarder at Mrs Goddard’s who had been also at the ball, had walked out together, and taken a road, the Richmond road, which, though apparently public enough for safety, had led them into alarm. About half a mile beyond Highbury, making a sudden turn, and deeply shaded by elms on each side, it became for a considerable stretch very retired, and when the young ladies had advanced some way into it, they had suddenly perceived at a small distance before them, on a broader patch of greensward by the side, a party of gypsies.

A child on the watch came towards them to beg, and Miss Bickerton, excessively frightened, gave a great scream, and calling on Harriet to follow her, ran up a steep bank, cleared a slight hedge at the top, and made the best of her way by a short cut back to Highbury. But poor Harriet could not follow. She had suffered very much from cramp after dancing, and her first attempt to mount the bank brought on such a return of it as made her absolutely powerless—and in this state, and exceedingly terrified, she had been obliged to remain.

How the trampers might have behaved had the young ladies been more courageous must be doubtful, but such an invitation for attack could not be resisted, and Harriet was soon assailed by half a dozen children, headed by a stout woman and a great boy, all clamorous, and impertinent in look, though not absolutely in word. More and more frightened, she immediately promised them money, and taking out her purse, gave them a shilling, and begged them not to want more, or to use her ill. She was then able to walk, though but slowly, and was moving away—but her terror and her purse were too tempting, and she was followed, or rather surrounded, by the whole gang, demanding more.

In this state Frank Churchill had found her, she trembling and conditioning, they loud and insolent. By a most fortunate chance his leaving Highbury had been delayed so as to bring him to her assistance at this critical moment. The pleasantness of the morning had induced him to walk forward and leave his horses to meet him by another road, a mile or two beyond Highbury. Happening to have borrowed a pair of scissors the night before of Miss Bates, and to have forgotten to restore them, he had been obliged to stop at her door and go in for a few minutes. He was therefore later than he had intended, and being on foot, was unseen by the whole party till almost close to them.

The terror which the woman and boy had been creating in Harriet was then their own portion. He had left them completely frightened, and Harriet, eagerly clinging to him and hardly able to speak, had just strength enough to reach Hartfield before her spirits were quite overcome. It was his idea to bring her to Hartfield, he had thought of no other place.

This was the amount of the whole story, of his communication and of Harriet’s as soon as she had recovered her senses and speech. He dared not stay longer than to see her well, these several delays left him not another minute to lose, and Emma engaging to give assurance of her safety to Mrs Goddard, and notice of there being such a set of people in the neighbourhood to Mr Knightley, he set off, with all the grateful blessings that she could utter for her friend and herself.

Such an adventure as this, a fine young man and a lovely young woman thrown together in such a way, could hardly fail of suggesting certain ideas to the coldest heart and the steadiest brain. So Emma thought, at least. Could a linguist, could a grammarian, could even a mathematician have seen what she did, have witnessed their appearance together, and heard their history of it, without feeling that circumstances had been at work to make them peculiarly interesting to each other? How much more must an imaginist, like herself, be on fire with speculation and foresight! Especially with such a groundwork of anticipation as her mind had already made.

It was a very extraordinary thing! Nothing of the sort had ever occurred before to any young ladies in the place, within her memory—no rencontre, no alarm of the kind—and now it had happened to the very person, and at the very hour, when the other very person was chancing to pass by to rescue her! It certainly was very extraordinary! And knowing, as she did, the favourable state of mind of each at this period, it struck her the more. He was wishing to get the better of his attachment to herself, she just recovering from her mania for Mr Elton. It seemed as if everything united to promise the most interesting consequences. It was not possible that the occurrence should not be strongly recommending each to the other.

In the few minutes’ conversation which she had yet had with him, while Harriet had been partially insensible, he had spoken of her terror, her naivete, her fervour as she seized and clung to his arm, with a sensibility amused and delighted, and just at last, after Harriet’s own account had been given, he had expressed his indignation at the abominable folly of Miss Bickerton in the warmest terms. Everything was to take its natural course, however, neither impelled nor assisted. She would not stir a step, nor drop a hint. No, she had had enough of interference. There could be no harm in a scheme, a mere passive scheme. It was no more than a wish. Beyond it she would on no account proceed.

Emma’s first resolution was to keep her father from the knowledge of what had passed, aware of the anxiety and alarm it would occasion, but she soon felt that concealment must be impossible. Within half an hour it was known all over Highbury. It was the very event to engage those who talk most, the young and the low, and all the youth and servants in the place were soon in the happiness of frightful news. The last night’s ball seemed lost in the gypsies.

Poor Mr Woodhouse trembled as he sat, and as Emma had foreseen, would scarcely be satisfied without their promising never to go beyond the shrubbery again. It was some comfort to him that many enquiries after himself and Miss Woodhouse—for his neighbours knew that he loved to be enquired after—as well as Miss Smith, were coming in during the rest of the day, and he had the pleasure of returning for answer, that they were all very indifferent—which, though not exactly true, for she was perfectly well, and Harriet not much otherwise, Emma would not interfere with. She had an unhappy state of health in general for the child of such a man, for she hardly knew what indisposition was, and if he did not invent illnesses for her, she could make no figure in a message.