The Importance of Being Emma (46 page)

Mark nearly choked on his whisky. ‘Ah, Henry, I’m afraid my lips are sealed. It’s a secret remedy that’s been in the Knightley family for years. But back to relationships between men and women, Emma and I – ’

‘
Secret family remedies?’ Dad frowned. ‘I didn’t know you had any.’

‘
That’s because they’re secret,’ Mark said patiently. ‘As I was saying, Emma and I have known each other for years. Now – well, we’ve discovered we love each other. Very very much.’ He smiled across at me and I smiled back.

Dad raised his eyebrows. ‘Of course you do, you’ve always said Emma’s like your little sister.’

Mark flushed and bit his lip. ‘Just forget what I’ve said in the past. Believe me, that’s not how I feel about her now.’

‘
We want to be with each other all the time,’ I put in. ‘Every hour of every day – and night.’

‘
Good gracious, I don’t see any need for that nonsense,’ Dad said. ‘Far better to go on as you were. As Woodrow Wilson once said, if you want to make enemies, try to change something.’

Mark and I looked at each other in despair. Then Mark leaned forward and said in a grave voice, ‘I was hoping I wouldn’t have to worry you with this, Henry, but there’ve been some disturbing rumours recently. Do you remember Emma’s little joke about the Highbury Humper? Well, it seems that he actually exists and he may be on the prowl this very minute … ’

~~MARK~~

It was early spring before I could arrange a day at Ashridge for Emma and me. Until then, I’d been too busy progressing the merger between our companies and adjusting to life at Hartfield, which was enough to try the patience of a saint. And I certainly wasn’t that.

I’d also taken Emma to India, as promised. I could have done at the Taj Mahal what I wanted to do at Ashridge; but we’d gone there with Rob and Harriet, which wasn’t ideal. In any case, our time in India was rushed because I had to focus on getting Rob up to speed as my replacement. He and Harriet had fallen in love with the place and he’d been delighted to accept my offer of a job there. His parents had been less than delighted, but I’d managed to placate them by finding someone with the necessary experience to take over at Abbey Mill Haulage.

Now, as we approached Ashridge, the sun broke through the clouds and filtered between the green-tipped trees. It reminded me of our visit last autumn, except that this time I was filled with anticipation of a much more pleasurable kind. We parked the car and strolled hand in hand to the front entrance. Just before we reached it, I stopped.

‘
Fancy a walk up there?’ I said, pointing to the wide cutting in the trees on our left.

She looked along the grassy path and saw, on the horizon, a pale slender column tapering to a small cross. She smiled at me. ‘Why not?’

And so we retraced the steps of Earl Brownlow on his daily pilgrimage to his beloved wife’s memorial. I let Emma do the talking, all about the synergy benefits she anticipated from merging Highbury Foods’ marketing activities with Donwell’s. The path ended at a road and we waited there for a couple of cars to pass. Directly opposite us was the cross, standing perhaps twenty feet tall on Little Gaddesden’s village green. A few minutes later, we were climbing the steps up to it and reading the simple inscription: ‘In remembrance of Adelaide. Mercy and truth have met together. Righteousness and peace have kissed each other.’

Emma turned to me, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. ‘When you first told me this story, I remember saying something like “That’s true love”. But at the time I didn’t know what true love was.’ Her voice faltered. ‘I do now.’

I reached for her hand, took a deep breath. ‘I can’t make long flowery speeches, Emma. If I loved you less, I could talk about it more, but with me what you see is what you get.’ I laid her hand against my cheek, covered it with mine. ‘Only you would have put up with me like you’ve done over the years, all that lecturing and criticising – even though it had absolutely no effect! Not that I’d want it any other way, you know I love you just as you are. There’s only one thing I want to change about you, and that is – I’d like you to become my wife.’

With my other hand, I brought the little box out of my pocket and flipped it open with my thumb. Her eyes widened as she saw the ring, diamonds encircling a large emerald. A tear spilled onto her cheek and I wiped it tenderly away.

‘
This belonged to my mother, but if you don’t like it – ’

‘
Oh Mark, it’s perfect.’

I took the ring out of its box and slipped it onto her finger; a man giving a woman a token of his love, beside a memorial to another love, from another time.

Digestif

Hartfield, the following Christmas

~~EMMA~~

While Mark carved the turkey beside me, I studied the faces around the dining table. They were the same as last year, with the addition of George and Saffron. But in other respects this Christmas Day was completely different from the previous one.

So many changes in such a short time. My name: Mrs Emma Knightley. My shape: I was five months pregnant. My relationship with Mark: the only tension between us today was whether I should risk a small glass of wine with my meal – although I gave up on that one as soon as Dad and Izzy weighed in with their expert advice. And among our presents to each other were another bottle of Eau Pour Homme and another souvenir of Ashridge; only now we understood – and valued – their significance.

And the changes didn’t stop there.

Kate and Tom had called earlier with baby Anna, now six months old. But this year they came without Flynn. It looked as though the only attraction Highbury had ever held for him was the girl whose skin he’d once compared to uncooked pastry. He hadn’t set foot in our village since the previous January, apart from a fleeting visit with Jane to collect their belongings. They were apparently working all hours to make Flynn’s Cook-in at the Brook Inn a success. I’d only watched the TV programme once; I switched off in disgust when Flynn broadcast his secret recipe for minestrone soup, which was uncannily like the one I’d entrusted to him the first day we met.

At least Jane seemed to spare us the occasional thought. She ordered several of my new Highbury Foods luxury hampers, to be delivered to Randalls and Kings Row; and further afield, to the Campbells in Weymouth and the Dixons in Ireland. Tom, the eternal optimist, was even hopeful that she could persuade Flynn to come to Anna’s christening in a month’s time.

I thought Mark showed admirable restraint. All he said was, ‘I’ve always had a very high opinion of Jane Fairfax, but even she has her limitations.’

And I was actually warming to Robert Martin. He and Harriet were over from India for a couple of weeks and we’d been out with them several times. I began to think that they were quite well suited after all, in a Beauty and the Beast sort of way.

On the business front, there were three major developments. First, the merger between Highbury Foods and Donwell Organics was going to plan and would be completed within six weeks. Second, following some promising research results, I’d launched Harriet’s Secret Recipes; only a limited range of products to begin with, but sales were going extremely well. Finally, Philip had handed in his resignation; this was no great loss and even less of a surprise. Ever since Dad had announced the merger with Donwell Organics, Philip had been thoroughly disgruntled. He assumed, quite rightly, that John would be Finance Director of the new company and started job hunting almost immediately.

As Gusty had never found the work she believed was waiting for her in Surrey, she was more than happy to leave Little Bassington behind. When I bumped into her in the high street on Christmas Eve, she informed me that people round here hadn’t a clue how to run a proper business, so she and Philip were off to Bristol, where their talents would be appreciated. And, by the way, her sister knew a man who’d had to share a house with his in-laws and the marriage had only lasted six months; how was dear Marrrk finding it?

I glanced at dear Marrrk now. He didn’t look at all the worse for wear after living with Dad for almost a year. In fact, he looked positively irresistible …

When we’d finished lunch, I got to my feet with a long-suffering smile. ‘Would you excuse me? I feel very nauseous, I’d better go upstairs and lie down for an hour or so.’

Izzy pursed her lips. ‘That nausea’s going on far too long, you really should see Doctor Perry about it. Or speak to one of my NCT contacts – ’

‘
No need for that,’ I said calmly. ‘Mark will soon sort me out with one of his little remedies. I believe it’s something to do with reiki, he has the most wonderful touch. Coming, Mark?’

‘
You bet.’ He lifted a sleepy Emily off his knee and carefully handed her to John.

As we left the room, I heard Dad say, ‘Mark certainly seems to be very gifted in that department, Emma says he’s thinking of writing a book,
The Joy of Reiki
.’

John gave a snort of laughter. ‘I think she’s pulling your leg, sounds very like
The Joy of Sex
.’

‘
I beg your pardon?’ Dad sounded aghast.

‘
Haven’t you heard of it? Came out in the early seventies, been a bestseller ever since.’

Mark shut the door behind us and grinned. ‘Trust John to spoil our fun. Do you think Henry’ll believe him?’

‘
Dad will believe exactly what he wants to,’ I said, tucking my arm through his. ‘I’m sure he still thinks we only share a room so that you can protect me from the Highbury Humper.’

By the time we reached the top of the stairs, the noise from the dining room was no more than a distant murmur; at the far end of the house, our bedroom was swathed in silence. We stood there for a few moments, just looking at each other.

Then the man of my dreams took me in his arms and kissed me, long and hard.

I closed my eyes and gave myself up to the joy of ‘reiki’.

Author’s Note

This book was inspired by Jane Austen’s
Emma
, in particular this extract from Volume III Chapter II:

(Emma)

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.

(Mr Knightley)
Brother and sister? no, indeed!

About the Author

Juliet describes herself as ‘a nineteenth-century mind in a 21st-century body – actually, some days it’s the other way round’. The youngest of four girls, she was born and bred

in North-East England, where she met her future husband. Unlike Anne Elliot in Jane Austen’s
Persuasion
, she got married despite pressure to wait until she’d finished her degree, and emerged from the University of Nottingham with a First in French and Russian. Thirty years later she is still married, has two teenage children and lives in Harpenden, Hertfordshire.

The Importance of Being Emma
won The Big Red Reads Fiction Award 2011 and was short-listed for the Melissa Nathan Award for Comedy Romance 2009. Juliet’s second novel,
Persuade Me
was short-listed for the Festival of Romance Best Romantic Read Award 2011.

Juliet’s stories are modernisations of Jane Austen’s novels.

www.julietarcher.com

www.twitter.com/julietarcher

More Choc Lit

From Juliet Archer

Persuade Me