Thus armed, the gentlemen and lady advanced towards the unwelcome intruders and the battle began.
Mr. Weston and George Knightley each raised their sabres and quickly dispatched two of the fiends, decapitating them.
The third vampire shrieked and raged towards John Knightley, who aimed his rifle and fired two shots. Both hit their mark in the torso of the monster. It staggered and fell.
The fourth creature bared its claws, snatching at Emma but was repelled by the aura of garlic which permeated her body. As it stood paralysed, Emma drove her wooden stake into its heart and it fell to the ground.
The vampire who had been shot was still alive, for John Knightley had forgotten that mere bullets cannot vanquish the supernatural. It suddenly regained its stance and lurched towards John, whose back was turned. George Knightley hastened to rescue his brother and, with a gallant swipe of his sabre, relieved the vampire of its head.
The cream of Highbury society stood silent and stunned, and surveyed the carnage. Mrs. Weston helped Mr. Woodhouse to his feet. A mixture of relief and revulsion filled their hearts and minds.
Mr. George Knightley was the first to speak: “Is everyone quite all right?”
No one in the party could find a single word to utter. Isabella and Mrs. Weston wiped away their tears. Mr. Woodhouse gasped at the now-familiar sight of headless vampires splayed on the ground. Mr. Weston laid down his sword, and John Knightley placed his hunting rifle in the carriage. Emma withdrew her wooden stake from the dead creature and re-tied it to her leg.
Mr. Elton spoke a few words of prayer and thanksgiving for having been delivered from the valley of death.
Quietly, the guests took to their carriages. Isabella stepped in after her father, and John Knightley joined them.
Emma found herself being escorted into the second carriage by Mr. Elton. She would rather it had not happened. For scarcely had they passed the gate when Mr. Elton seized Emma’s hand!
To her utter astonishment, Mr. Elton then professed his ardent love to Emma—availing himself of the precious opportunity, declaring sentiments, hoping, fearing, adoring, ready to die if she refused him!
Mr. Elton was flattering himself that his love and passion would be seriously accepted by Emma. It was really happening. Mr. Elton, the lover of Harriet, was professing himself Emma’s lover!
His fang-like teeth glistened in the night as his black, unblinking eyes stared hungrily at her lovely neck. His cold white hand touched hers and sent another shock through her body.
Still reeling from the vampire attack, Emma now had to cope with Mr. Elton’s unwelcome and unexpected advances. She reached for her wooden stake to fend him off.
“No, not that!” screamed Mr. Elton. “Anything but the wooden stake! You needn’t take such harsh measures. I shall compose myself.”
“Why, Mr. Elton! You recoil as if you were a vampire. But I shall take your word as a gentleman that you will keep your passion under control. I am very much astonished, indeed, Mr. Elton! This? To me? You forget yourself—you mistake me for my friend. Any message to Harriet I shall be happy to deliver; but no more of this to me, if you please.”
“Miss Smith? Message to Miss Smith? What could Harriet possibly mean to me?”
“Mr. Elton, this is the most extraordinary conduct! Command yourself to say no more, and I shall endeavour to forget it.”
But Mr. Elton resumed the subject of his own passion and pressed Emma for a favourable answer. He pressed his chest against hers, and though she felt no heartbeat, the scent of his venom was overwhelming. Moreover, it appeared that her scent of garlic had faded. Oh! That she had only partaken of a second helping of minced chicken, which perhaps could have dissuaded him from his passion.
“Mr. Elton, my astonishment is much beyond anything I can express. After such attention to Miss Smith as I have witnessed during the past month, to be addressing me in this manner—believe me, sir, I am very far from happy in being the object of your professions of love.”
“Good Heavens!” cried Mr. Elton. “What can be the meaning of this? I never thought of Miss Smith or paid her any attentions but as your friend! I never cared whether she were dead or alive but as your friend. If she has fancied otherwise, her own wishes have misled her, and I am very sorry—extremely sorry. But Miss Woodhouse! Who can think of Miss Smith, when Miss Woodhouse is near! No, upon my honour, I have thought only of you. Everything I have said or done for many weeks past has been with the sole view of marking my adoration of you. I am sure you have seen and understood that.”
“No, sir,” cried Emma. “I have been in a most complete error with respect to your views till this moment. Am I to believe that you have never thought seriously of Harriet?”
“Never, madam,” cried he, affronted. “Never, I assure you. Miss Smith is a very good sort of girl; and I should be happy to see her respectably married. I wish her extremely well and, no doubt, there are men who would relish her plumpness. But as for myself, I am not so despairing of a socially equal marriage as to be addressing myself to Miss Smith! No, madam, my visits to Hartfield have been for yourself only; and the encouragement I received—”
“Encouragement! I gave you encouragement? Sir, you have been entirely mistaken in supposing it. I have seen you only as the admirer of my friend. In no other light could you have been more to me than a common acquaintance. I am exceedingly sorry, but I have no thoughts of matrimony at present.”
He was too angry to say another word, and Emma’s manner was too decided; and in this state of swelling resentment and mutually deep mortification, they had to continue together a few minutes longer.
When the carriage turned into Vicarage Lane, they found themselves all at once at the door of his house; and he was out of the carriage in a blur of light.
Emma wished him a good night. The compliment was returned coldly and proudly, and under indescribable irritation of spirits, she was then conveyed to Hartfield.
There she was welcomed with utmost delight by her father. Mr. John Knightley, ashamed of his ill humour and grateful for his life having been spared, was now all kindness and attention; and the day was concluding in peace and comfort to all their little party, except for Emma. Her mind had never been so disturbed, and she needed a very strong effort to appear cheerful till the evening was over and she could engage in quiet reflection of all that had transpired.
Chapter 16
Emma sat down in her room to think and be miserable about Mr. Elton. It was a wretched business indeed! Such an overthrow of everything she had been wishing for! Such a blow for Harriet—that was the worst of all. Every part of it brought pain and humiliation, but compared with the evil to Harriet, all was light.
“If I had not persuaded Harriet into liking Mr. Elton, I could have borne anything. He might have doubled his presumption to me—but poor Harriet!”
How could Emma have been so deceived? Mr. Elton had claimed that he had never thought seriously of Harriet—never! She looked back as well as she could, but it was all confusion. His manners must have been dubious or she could not have been so misled.
The picture! How eager he had been about the picture! And the riddle! And a hundred other circumstances—how clearly they had seemed to point to Harriet. Certainly she had often, especially of late, thought his manners towards her to be unnecessarily gallant—the electrifying touch of his pale hand, the gaze of his coal-coloured eyes—but till this very day she had never for an instant suspected it to mean anything but grateful respect to her as Harriet’s friend.
She was indebted to Mr. John Knightley for first suggesting the possibility—indeed, he quite accurately predicted it. She remembered what Mr. George Knightley had once said to her about Mr. Elton, the caution he had given. It was dreadfully mortifying; but Mr. Elton was proving himself, in many respects, the very reverse of what she had believed him—proud, assuming, conceited, very full of
his own claims, and little concerned about the feelings of others.
She thought nothing of his proposal and was insulted by his hopes. He wanted to marry well and had the arrogance to pretend to be in love. There had been no real affection either in his language or manners. She need not pity him. He only wanted to enrich himself—and, unbeknownst to Emma, sink his drooling fangs into her fair white neck. If Miss Emma Woodhouse of Hartfield, the heiress of thirty thousand pounds, was not quite so easily won as he had fancied, she was certain he would not sleep until he found Miss Somebody Else with twenty thousand or with ten.
Mr. Elton must know that in fortune and consequence, Emma was greatly his superior. He must know that the Woodhouses had been settled for several generations at Hartfield, the younger branch of a very ancient family—and that the Eltons were nobody. And the Woodhouses had long held a high place in the reputation of the neighbourhood, which Mr. Elton had first entered just two years ago to make his way as best he could without anything to recommend him but his occupation and his politeness.
But he had fancied Emma in love with him. She was willing to admit that her own behaviour to him had been full of courtesy and attention and that an ordinary man like Mr. Elton might fancy himself a decided favourite. If she had so misinterpreted his feelings, it was no wonder that he should have mistaken hers.
The first and worst error was hers. It was foolish, it was wrong, to take so active a part in bringing any two such people together as Harriet and Mr. Elton. She was quite concerned and ashamed and resolved to do matchmaking no more.
Here have I, thought she, actually talked poor Harriet into being very much attached to this man. She might never have thought about him but for me, and certainly never would have thought of him with any hope if I had not assured her of his attachment. For she is as modest and humble as I used to think him.
Oh! That I persuaded her not to accept young Mr. Martin. But there I was quite right. That was well done of me; but there I should have stopped and left the rest to time and chance. I was introducing her into good company and giving her the opportunity of pleasing a gentleman worth having—I ought not to have attempted more. But now, poor girl, her peace is disturbed for some time. I have been but half a friend to her.
I am sure I have no idea of anybody else who would be at all desirable for her. Perhaps William Cox—Oh no! I could not endure William Cox, that rude young lawyer.
She stopped to blush and laugh at her own thoughts about another match for Harriet.
She then became more serious, realising the distressing explanation she had to make to Harriet; and all that poor Harriet would be suffering, with the awkwardness of future meetings, the difficulties of continuing or discontinuing the acquaintance, and concealing resentment, were enough to make Emma unhappy for some time longer. She went to bed that night with nothing settled but the conviction of her having blundered most dreadfully.
***
Emma got up the next morning, on Christmas Day, with her natural cheerfulness returned, ready to see answers for the evil before her and to depend on getting tolerably out of her situation. It was a great consolation that Mr. Elton should not be really in love with her, that Harriet’s nature was not of the sort that would stay unhappy forever, or that no one except the three of them would need to know what had transpired.
These were very cheering thoughts; and the sight of a great deal of snow on the ground further cheered her, for she was therefore safe from either giving or receiving unpleasant news for many days, being a most happy prisoner of Hartfield. No contact with Harriet was possible but by note and, with no church for her on Sunday, no chance of encountering Mr. Elton.
These days of confinement would have been remarkably comfortable; but amidst all the cheerfulness of the holiday and all the present comfort of delay, there was still such a worry hanging over her, anticipating her explanation to Harriet, as made it impossible for Emma to be perfectly at ease.
Chapter 17
The weather soon improved enough for Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley to end their visit at Hartfield. Mr. Woodhouse, as usual, tried to persuade his daughter to stay behind with all her children. But he was obliged to see the whole party off and return to his dismay over the destiny of poor Miss Taylor.
That evening brought a note from Mr. Elton to Mr. Woodhouse, a long, polite, ceremonious note to say “that he was proposing to leave Highbury the following morning on his way to Bath, where he had engaged to spend a few weeks with friends.”
Emma was most agreeably surprised. Mr. Elton’s absence just at this time was the very thing she desired. Her name was pointedly excluded from the note, which, she thought, could not possibly escape her father’s suspicion. It did, however. Her father was quite surprised at so sudden a journey and saw nothing unusual in the language of Mr. Elton’s note.
Emma resolved to keep Harriet in the dark no longer.
***
Harriet now being reasonably recovered from her cold, Emma went to Mrs. Goddard’s the very next day to undergo the necessary communication, and a severe one it was.
Emma had to destroy all Harriet’s hopes for marriage which she had been so industriously feeding and acknowledge herself grossly mistaken and misjudging in all of her ideas, all her observations, all her convictions, and all her prophesies for the past six weeks.
The confession and the sight of Harriet’s tears caused Emma great shame. But Harriet bore the news very well—blaming nobody—and betrayed a lowly opinion of herself. Harriet did not consider herself deserving of a man such as Mr. Elton, and nobody but so kind a friend as Miss Woodhouse would have thought such a match possible.
Harriet’s tears fell abundantly, and Emma tried to console her with all her heart and understanding. Her duty now was to make Harriet comfortable, so she took her friend to Hartfield and showed her every kindness, striving to occupy and amuse her and, by books and conversation, to drive Mr. Elton from her thoughts.
Time, Emma knew, must be allowed for this healing to be thoroughly done; and it seemed to Emma that by the time of Mr. Elton’s return, they could all meet again as friends.
But still did Harriet think Mr. Elton all perfection, and she maintained that no one was equal to him in goodness. Harriet did, in truth, prove herself more in love than Emma had foreseen. Yet Emma felt the feelings would not last.
If Mr. Elton, on his return, showed the indifference towards Harriet that Emma believed he would, she could not imagine Harriet’s persisting to place her happiness in the sight of him. All three would certainly encounter each other at some point, so they would have to make the best of it.
It was unfortunate for Harriet that, at Mrs. Goddard’s, Mr. Elton was adored by all the teachers and girls in the school. It was only at Hartfield that Harriet could have any chance of hearing him spoken of with cold, hard truth.
There must be a cure somewhere for the wound Harriet had been given; and Emma felt there could be no peace for herself until there was peace for her friend.
Chapter 18
Mr. Frank Churchill did not come after all. When the proposed time drew near, Mrs. Weston’s fears were justified in the arrival of a letter of excuse. For the present, he could not be spared, to his “very great mortification and regret; but still he looked forward with the hope of coming to Randalls in the near future.”
Mrs. Weston, who was now exceedingly happy to have just learned that she was going to have a baby, was exceedingly disappointed by the news about Frank—much more disappointed, in fact, than her husband.
For half an hour, Mr. Weston was surprised and sorry; but then he began to perceive that Frank’s coming two or three months later would be a much better plan, a better time of year, better weather, and that he would be able to stay considerably longer with them. These feelings rapidly restored his comfort, while Mrs. Weston, of a more apprehensive disposition, foresaw nothing but a repetition of excuses and delays.
Emma was not at this time in a state of spirits to really care about Mr. Frank Churchill’s not coming. She wanted, rather, to be quiet and out of temptation. But for the sake of friendship with the Westons, she expressed appropriate disappointment.
She was the first to announce it to Mr. George Knightley; and after he complimented Emma again on her valour during the vampire attack at Randalls, he remarked upon the conduct of the Churchills in keeping Frank away. Emma found herself involved in a disagreement with Mr. Knightley again.
“The Churchills are very likely at fault,” said Mr. Knightley coolly, “but I daresay he would come if he wanted to.”
“I do not know why you should say so,” replied Emma. “He wishes exceedingly to come, but his uncle and aunt will not spare him.”
“I cannot believe that he has not the power of coming, if he made a point of it.”
“How odd you are! What has Mr. Frank Churchill done to make you suppose him such an unnatural creature?”
Unnatural creature? Of all people, he thought, I am not supposing him to be an unnatural creature. No one with pale skin and black eyes, who never sleeps nor ages nor prefers human blood to that of small animals could be considered unnatural.
“It is natural for Mr. Frank Churchill to care only for his own pleasure, after living with those who have set the example. It is natural that a young man, brought up by those who are proud, luxurious, and selfish, should be proud, luxurious, and selfish too. If Frank Churchill had wanted to see his father, he would have arranged it between September and January. A man of twenty-three certainly has the ability to arrange such a visit.”
“That’s easily said,” replied Emma, “and easily felt by you, who have always been your own master. You do not know what it is to have other tempers to manage.”
“It is inconceivable that a man of twenty-three should not have liberty of mind or body. We know that he has much money and leisure. We hear of him forever at some party or resort—up all night, dark circles under his eyes—this proves that he can leave the Churchills whenever he chooses.”
Emma and the Vampires Page 9