by Jayne Bamber
“And, upon my word, they have an air of great probability. Mr. Dixon’s preference of her music to her friend’s, I can answer for being very decided.”
“And then, he saved her life. Did you ever hear of that? A water-party, and by some accident she was falling overboard. He caught her.”
Mr. Parker raised his eyebrows, his countenance full of implication. “He did. I was there – one of the party.”
“Were you really? Well! If I had been there, I think I should have made some discoveries.”
Mr. Parker laughed affably. “I daresay you would!”
“Well, the necklace is decisive enough for me – Mr. Dixon must be the principal in the business.”
“You injure me if you suppose me unconvinced,” Mr. Parker cried. “At first I thought Colonel Campbell the giver, as a paternal sort of kindness. But when you mentioned Mrs. Dixon I thought how much more probable it should be that it was a tribute of warm female friendship. And now, I can see it in no other light than as an offering of love.”
The subject was soon dropped – Mr. Churchill would have his share of Emma’s conversation, and she had been whispering with Mr. Parker for so long that to continue on would likely leave the wrong impression – Emma gave him one last significant look before turning to Mr. Churchill and giving him the opportunity to please her.
***
Rebecca was sorry that Mary had left for Kent on the very day that brought such promise of diversion, but soon put her regrets aside and found herself well capable of being amused by the gathering at the Coles’. The loss of Mary’s company was made up for by the furthering of her friendship with Mr. Knightley, whom she had privately resolved – though she would never admit such a thing to the man himself – that she would quarrel with no more.
She had discovered them to be of one mind regarding Sidney Parker, and had known instinctively that it must be so. Though she thought better of Frank Churchill than Mr. Knightley was inclined to, she chose to occupy herself conversing with him on a subject where they were in complete agreement, and the two amused themselves at length by admonishing the foolishness of Mr. Parker, and lamenting every mention of Sanditon. This was a frequent occurrence at table, for once Mr. Parker had had his share of whispered flirtation with Emma, he began to satisfy the curiosity of the Coles’, and indeed the rest of the company, on the many charms of his seaside home.
Rebecca and Mr. Knightley were seated at a sufficient distance that they might reasonably ignore the substance of his conversation, and speak freely of the character of the man himself. “Certainly I have my reasons to distrust the man,” Mr. Knightley said, “but if I am not mistaken, I must suppose your reasons are rather different. Tell me of your acquaintance with him last autumn.”
Though Rebecca had not been entirely honest with Emma on why she mistrusted Sidney Parker, she felt she could be perfectly candid with Mr. Knightley. “The first time I ever met Mr. Parker was at a ball,” she whispered to him. “He seemed affable enough at the time, if perhaps a little silly, and a lady of my acquaintance – one who was not yet out in society at the time – was certainly well pleased with his manners. It was her first ball, and she had been given permission to dance with him, which he took as such encouragement to recommend himself to her – to attach himself to her not only for the duration of the evening, but for a fortnight hence, while we were all staying in the same part of the country. He had traveled thither with his brother and sisters, who had all gone away directly after the ball, and yet he remained at the same house as our party, which was composed largely of people already on intimate terms with one another, and he an outsider. And yet, he was determined that he should, in so short a space of time as a fortnight, become equally intimate with us all, particularly the young lady. He was invited by an older woman of our party, a widow, to stay with her when we all returned to London, and it just so happened that the young lady was also to reside in the home of the widow for some weeks – as did I myself.”
Mr. Knightley nodded. “I see – and what of the young lady?”
“The two quickly developed an enthusiasm for one another’s company, and though I am sure there was nothing especially untoward – no liberties taken, or anything scandalous – yet the lady was still not out. After some weeks, the lady was to remove to another part of the country, with some relations, of the very same party as before, and Mr. Parker was so confident in being already quite one of their own set, that I was obliged, by my acquaintance with them all, to intervene on the lady’s behalf, and hint to Mr. Parker that the invitation to the country would not include him on this occasion, and that the lady, who would indeed be out in society very soon, was of such a situation in life that she must not be expected to enter into any agreement with a gentleman of so brief an acquaintance – that she would, in short, be given every opportunity to meet a great many new people during her Season, before even considering making such a choice.”
“Very circumspect of you,” Mr. Knightley replied, “and though, through context, I can with almost complete certainty suppose whom you must mean, I commend you for your delicacy.”
Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. “And here I might have expected you to scold me.”
“I am sorry to disappoint you in this occasion, but indeed I think it was well done of you, as certainly his attentions now to Emma must be proof enough.”
“That is just what I had thought,” Rebecca agreed, and felt all the justification of her actions to protect Georgiana.
“Do you suppose,” she asked Mr. Knightley some time later, when they were all conversing in the drawing room, “that he is a fortune hunter? All this talk of his enterprises and endeavors in Sanditon; I cannot help but think he must wish to marry a dowry first, and a woman second.”
Mr. Knightley agreed that it must be so. “He seems to me the foppish sort of man to be fully capable of convincing himself that he is in love, if it were to suit him, but he should certainly never accomplish it but with a woman of fortune.”
“Exactly why I begin to fear for poor Emma,” Rebecca replied.
“You may fear for her,” said he, “but I do not. She has reminded me on more than one occasion of her intention never to marry – she certainly stood her ground against Elton well enough, even before you arrived. I think her in no danger now, though I am sorry that this must likewise thwart your particular wish, one I am sure you share with Mr. and Mrs. Weston, regarding Frank Churchill.”
“Pah! And now we are at the end of our agreement, I see.” Rebecca laughed. “Well, no matter – I shall not argue with you this time, and shall instead wait until I am proven right, at which time I will receive all your compliments and concessions most graciously. But now I must go and make myself agreeable to our hostess.” She gave Mr. Knightley a parting smirk, and moved away.
It was not long before Rebecca was obliged to tolerate Mr. Parker himself, and he accosted her in good cheer; her smile at his approach was only for Emma’s sake, that she might have a little time to speak to Mr. Churchill without Mr. Parker’s interference, and for this reason she determined to detain him as long as she could.
His purpose for making the advance was to solicit her assistance in convincing Emma to play for them all – he professed an insatiable desire to hear Emma play, for music was his delight. “You must come to my aid,” said he, “for I know she shall listen to you – I am certain she must heed your advice, the moment it is given. I have long understood, you see, the influence you have on all your relations.”
With such an emphasis as he made, Rebecca could easily take his meaning – her conversation with him the previous autumn had not been forgotten. “I can only claim a small degree of influence,” she replied. “That is to say, my advice might be heeded, when the recipient of my wisdom is very nearly arrived at the same conclusion already.”
“Is that so? If this is the case,” said he, “I am sure there can be very little triumph in making any recommendation at all – if you only advise what i
s already so near a certainty to your relations, there must be very little victory for yourself in the matter.”
“You speak of triumph and victory as if I dispense advice for my own sake! I am not shy about making my opinions known, but it often happens that I am in such a state of harmony with all my relations, many of whom you know well – they only want just a little more suggestion from me to decide upon what they had already suspected was the wiser course of action.”
Yes, he had certainly taken her meaning, for Mr. Parker’s expression changed, and his voice dropped lower. “I believe we understand each other. No doubt, from what you know of me – from what you have witnessed in the past of my behavior, you must think certain particulars of my being here now inconsistent in my character.”
“I think you a most consistent man, Mr. Parker,” Rebecca quipped. “Your behavior at present is much as I have ever seen it. Your fondness for music is much as it ever was last autumn – I believe you enjoyed hearing my cousin Georgiana play the pianoforte very much indeed.”
“And I still declare her to be the finest performer I have ever heard,” Mr. Parker replied, with a significant look at Rebecca. “It is a great disappointment to me that I know not when I shall hear anything so fine again, and yet you would slight me now for attempting to enjoy what music I can. Though I might wish to hear Miss Woodhouse play upon the pianoforte, it is only a wish arising from such a desire to become acquainted with a new friend in a new place – and it in no way diminishes the recollection I hold dear in my heart, of having heard Miss Darcy play. I am sure I have heard a great many ladies play the instrument since I met your cousin last in London, though I may continue to regard her as one of the finest performers I have ever encountered.”
Rebecca gave him a droll look – she could in no way credit the notion that he could possibly harbor any tender feelings for Georgiana, as eager as he was to recommend himself to Emma now.
Miss Fairfax had been moving that way, and might even have heard a little bit of their conversation; Mr. Parker entreated her to join them, and give her own opinion.
“Here comes another fine performer,” said he. “I believe I may say so, for I have heard her play the instrument a great many times, in our months together in Sanditon. Certainly I would enjoy hearing her perform for us, as much as I might enjoy hearing Miss Woodhouse play. It does not follow that I have not enjoyed hearing others play before.”
Whatever his hidden meaning might be, Rebecca was sure he had begun to muddy the waters with his nonsense, and she waved him off. “What say you, Miss Fairfax? I am sure if you play, my cousin Emma might likewise be entreated to do so. Is Mr. Parker to be satisfied, or must he continue to talk such poppycock to me?”
“Mr. Parker might do as he likes,” Miss Fairfax said shyly. “I am sure he must enjoy music a great deal, and must therefore be a difficult man to please.”
“Not at all, Miss Fairfax, not at all,” Mr. Parker cried, and Rebecca had had enough of his conversation. She began to move away, even as Mr. Parker pursued Miss Fairfax, continuing his entreaties that she would make her way to the instrument directly.
Miss Fairfax did play for them, and sang a lovely Irish air selected by Mr. Parker. Rebecca understood it to be something of a joke between himself and Emma, pertaining to Mr. Dixon, for Emma smirked at him throughout the duration of the performance. That Miss Fairfax was a better performer than she seemed equally apparent to Emma, but her private mirth with Mr. Parker appeared to outweigh any mortification she might have felt at being bested once again by her long-time rival in accomplishment.
Miss Fairfax was pressed to play a second song – a duet in which Mr. Churchill sang with her, and at the conclusion of it Mr. Parker became quite determined that she should play a third, and allow him to sing with her. Emma’s impatience to give a performance of her own was rising, but no one protested louder than Mr. Knightley, who insisted that Jane should not be importuned, else she would sing herself hoarse.
Mr. Parker began to insist that certainly they would not fatigue Miss Fairfax on any account – that the fatigue would be all his own, but Mr. Knightley would not hear him, and really began to grow almost angry. Amidst Miss Fairfax’s embarrassed demurrals, Emma moved to the instrument herself, and declared that she should be happy to play, and that Mr. Parker might sing with her – he was instantly satisfied.
Mr. Knightley moved to stand beside Rebecca, still fairly fuming with his displeasure with Mr. Parker. “That fellow,” he said indignantly, “thinks of nothing but showing off his own voice.”
Rebecca screwed up her face, determined to tease him into better cheer. “How fortunate that Miss Fairfax should find such a noble champion to defend her!”
Mr. Knightley rolled his eyes. “Not you, too. Mrs. Weston has already spoken to me about it.”
“Spoken to you about it? I cannot see how Mrs. Weston could have said anything to you about your defense of Miss Fairfax – she is all the way across the room.” Mr. Knightley gave her a dubious look, a lingering scowl, and then moved away.
Her curiosity now fully engaged, Rebecca approached Mrs. Weston directly, for she felt that whatever Mr. Knightley had alluded to was well worth knowing. “Whatever have you been on about with Mr. Knightley? He appears ever so cross, does he not?” Hiding her face behind her fan, Rebecca laughed with Mrs. Weston.
Mrs. Weston smiled, whispering, “I am surprised he mentioned it, as he was rather vexed with me for teasing him earlier this evening. It came to my notice, you see, that not only was Miss Fairfax the recipient of that lovely diamond necklace – in the shape of a heart, no less – but she was shown the kindness of being conveyed from her aunt’s house, along with her aunt, in Mr. Knightley’s own carriage. It is just the sort of kindness anyone might have expected from him, but given the mysterious origins of the necklace, as I am certain that Colonel Campbell would not send her anything that would lend itself to such romantic suggestions, my mind began to take a different turn entirely….”
Rebecca was struck by Mrs. Weston’s implication. “My goodness, and now he begins to defend Miss Fairfax’s singing voice so heroically! But certainly there is nothing in it – I am sure there could not be – they are of such very different dispositions, and she is a governess in his own brother’s house! No, I am sure you are mistaken.”
Mrs. Weston gave her an arch look. “Stranger things have happened, and I am sure he has long been an admirer of hers. He has always been a generous man, and sees to the comfort of Miss Bates and her mother, and Miss Fairfax whenever she visits. Though he may have paid his addresses to Emma, I am certain it was only a sense of duty that drove him to make her an offer – it was right of him to do it, and just as right of her to refuse, but now he is at liberty to follow his heart.”
Now Rebecca was well and truly astonished. “What is this? Mr. Knightley made my Emma an offer of marriage?”
Mrs. Weston blanched, and set down her glass of wine. “My goodness – I should not have said so – surely she must have told you – oh dear.”
“I shan’t breathe a word of it,” Rebecca assured her, “though it is certainly a curious thing….”
“It was in December, two months after Mr. Woodhouse and Isabella died. John was so very forlorn – far worse than he is now – and Emma nearly as low. Mr. Elton had already paid his addresses, and was refused, of course. He did not give up so easily, and when he continued to press his suit, and John was too depressed to do much of anything about it, Mr. Knightley, I believe, wished to offer her some means of escape. Emma considered it, for a day or two at most, but in the end I think it best she did not accept. Particularly now that someone else has come into the neighborhood….”
Rebecca absentmindedly made some manner of agreement, and took a seat beside Mr. Weston, for she required a little time to process such a shocking revelation. Mr. Knightley had actually proposed to Emma! It certainly explained a great deal – Mr. Knightley’s protective impulses over Emma, his fear that Rebecca
would lead Emma to some sort of mischief; even his dislike of Mr. Churchill and Mr. Parker might be seen in a new light with this discovery now brought before her – Mr. Knightley was in love with Emma!
The idea bothered her enormously. It was not so much that she desired Emma might be matched with Mr. Frank Churchill – indeed, that idea was a very new one to her, and even before his coming to the neighborhood, Rebecca would never have imagined that Emma and Mr. Knightley could ever belong together. In truth, rather like herself, Rebecca could not imagine Knightley ever being coupled with anybody. No indeed, the notion did not suit her at all.
***
Emma sang a duet with Mr. Parker, and another with Mr. Churchill. Following Miss Fairfax’s performance was no small thing, for she was infinitely the superior performer. Emma knew the limitations of her own powers too well to attempt more than she could perform with credit – she wanted in neither taste nor spirit, in the little things which were generally acceptable, and could accompany her own voice very well. Mr. Parker might have been a superior performer to Mr. Churchill, and the latter readily acknowledged as much after their song. Her pardon was duly begged at the close of the piece, and everything usual followed. He was accused of having a delightful voice, and a perfect knowledge of music, which was properly denied, and they disputed between themselves in perfect harmony a little while longer.
Both Mr. Knightley and Mr. Parker moved to congratulate her on her performance with Mr. Churchill, and she received their compliments with equal measures of delight and humility. At length she spied Miss Fairfax watching them closely, and leaned in to all her companions to address them thus, “My apologies – my eye was rather caught by the tremendous sparkle of that diamond about Miss Fairfax’s neck. Mr. Parker and I have discussed our own sentiments on her gift. What say you gentlemen?”