Unexpected Friends & Relations

by Jayne Bamber

  Emma agreed that she should like the exercise of a walk into Highbury with Rebecca. A visit to Ford’s could easily be deemed necessary, for it was the foremost shop in the village, and the sort of place that the principal people of Highbury were always seeming to go, whether they had business there or not.

  They were making their way into Ford’s, by which time Emma had talked herself into the likely acquisition of a new bonnet, when they happened to glance in the direction of Miss Bates’ house, which was just across the lane, and Mrs. Weston’s face could be seen to appear in the windows above. She motioned for Emma to wait, upon perceiving her. A moment later Mr. Frank Churchill exited Miss Bates’ house, followed by his stepmother. He informed Emma that Mr. Parker was still within the house – that he had absolutely promised Miss Bates the previous night that they would come to visit. “I do not recall it myself, but he assures me that we had given our word, and so here we are.”

  Emma smiled warmly at Mr. Churchill, wondering that he would have quit Miss Bates’ house so abruptly, even leaving poor Mr. Parker behind to bear the sole burden of Miss Bates’ tedious chatter, in order to come and speak with her – it was eminently flattering, to be sure, and certainly Rebecca appeared to approve of him all the more for it.

  “I wonder that you have abandoned your dear friend,” she teased. “Have you some business at Ford’s?”

  “I am quite a man of Highbury now, Miss Woodhouse – I always have business at Ford’s.”

  Mrs. Weston laughed and gave her stepson a droll look. “We did not say a very proper goodbye – you know Miss Bates was hoping we would return, and bring Emma and Rebecca with us – I am sure they are all expecting us to come back up.”

  “You may go, if you like,” Emma replied, “but I am thoroughly convinced that I require a new bonnet, and then I must stop in at Mrs. White’s next door and see how my new gowns are progressing. I am sure I should bore you, Mr. Churchill.”

  “A thousand errands with you would never bore me,” he said, giving her a very captivating smile. “But you know, Mrs. Weston, my father was saying a couple of days ago that he meant to get some new gloves, and what a fine thing if we were to make a little present for him now. Let us all go into Ford’s.”

  Mrs. Weston glanced back at Miss Bates’ door, but Rebecca quickly seized her arm, and led her into the shop, claiming to be quite an expert on the selection of gloves herself, leaving Emma to walk with Mr. Churchill.

  “I believe you must think it a sort of joke,” said she to Mr. Churchill. “How you must be laughing at poor Mr. Parker!”

  “And as I know you dearly love to laugh yourself,” said he, “I hope you will join me – it is rather funny, you must admit it.”

  Emma could not resist giving him a little smirk. “I am sure if I had thought of it – if I had done as much to Rebecca, I may very well be pleased with myself.”

  “Exactly so,” Mr. Churchill replied, leading her into the shop. “But are you very disappointed at being deprived of his company?”

  This was certainly a loaded question, tantamount to him inquiring directly which of the two of them she preferred, and Emma was scarcely prepared to answer. She had long thought of Mr. Churchill, certainly before she ever knew there was such a man as Sidney Parker, and last night had proved to her beyond any doubt that all of Highbury must be wishing for her to decide in Mr. Churchill’s favor, but this awareness only served to make such a choice even more difficult.

  “I rather pity Mr. Parker being deprived of your company,” she replied. “But that it has been bestowed upon me instead, I cannot repine. You may, however, begin to reconsider your plan, for it seems that Mrs. Weston and Rebecca shall have all the credit of selecting some new gloves for your father – I daresay they have already forgotten that they ever might have needed your assistance in the matter.”

  Mr. Churchill glanced in their direction – they were already at the counter, looking over several pairs of leather gloves, and he turned back to her with a playful shrug. “In that case, Miss Woodhouse, I believe we must attend the rather important matter of your new bonnet. And while we are about it, I think it high time for you to educate me on ribbon – I know little about ribbon, and yet I see such a great deal here. You must enlighten me.”

  They continued on in such a manner for another quarter hour – the merits of various bonnets were compared, and the hats tried on by both Emma and Frank Churchill alike. The finer points of ribbon quality were discussed, and Emma’s selection was finally made. She made her way to the counter to complete the purchase, just as Mrs. Weston was making up her mind about her husband’s gloves, and so distracted was Mr. Churchill in conversing with Emma that he swept in and paid for the gloves and bonnet all together. Mrs. Ford at the counter said nothing about it, and it only struck Emma’s attention belatedly, as they were all exiting the shop together.

  She reached into her reticule, prepared to repay Mr. Churchill what he had, seemingly by accident, paid for the bonnet, but he rested his hand on hers to stop her. “I suppose I have made you a little gift,” said he, “but it must be our little secret – I would not have it so much speculated on, as with Miss Fairfax and her charming necklace.”

  She knew she ought to perhaps argue just a little bit more before giving in, but Emma found herself perfectly satisfied to allow him the pleasure of making her a present. If Mrs. Weston and Rebecca could not object – and they may have noticed while she had not – certainly she could press the issue no further. “Very well,” said she, “and I shall make you the present of allowing that I find your understanding of ribbon to be most comprehensive, sir. I believe I have made just the right selection.”

  “I do hope,” said he with a wide grin, “the right choice has been made. One cannot be too careful about such things.”

  Feeling all the meaning of what he might be suggesting, Emma inadvertently glanced in the direction of Miss Bates’ house – Mr. Parker had still not emerged, poor man! “Shall we make some attempt at a rescue? I really begin to feel most keenly for Mr. Parker.”

  “Are we not to go to Mrs. White’s? I am certain you said you had some business there,” Mr. Churchill replied. “I will own, Miss Woodhouse, it would amuse me to let poor Mr. Parker squirm perhaps just a little more – I am sure we will laugh about it later, for it is just the sort of joke he would enjoy inflicting upon me, if the shoe were on the other foot. Oh, but I was to look for some new boots! Well – what say you to this – you and Rebecca go into Mrs. White’s, and see about your gowns – I must go and purchase new boots – I cannot account for how I could have forgotten such a thing when we were just in Ford’s, except that my mind was more agreeably engaged. I shall meet you right back here, in this very place, not ten minutes hence. Then, I daresay we can all walk on to Hartfield together, for I am sure we would have ended up there anyhow.”

  The ladies stopped into Mrs. White’s dress shop – the inquiry about her new gowns was made, the progress of them shown and admired, and a completion date of three days hence was determined upon. Emma was satisfied – Rebecca was not, and began to argue that certainly two more days should suffice, but Emma disliked the unnecessary squabbling, and did not wish to tarry much longer, for fear of keeping Mr. Churchill waiting. Certainly it would be very wrong of her, when he had been so very affable this morning.

  His determination to have the greater share of her attention for himself, to distinguish himself from his friend in her estimation, must count for something. She subdued her cousin’s temper, laughed the matter off with Mrs. Weston as they were leaving the shop, and found Mr. Churchill waiting for them in the designated place. Still there was no sign of Mr. Parker, and though Emma felt no little sympathy for the poor man being detained a half hour by himself at Miss Bates’ house, she was soon persuaded by the high spirits of Frank Churchill to laugh at all her friends. The four of them walked back to Hartfield in perfect cheer, trusting that Mr. Parker must catch them up ere long.

  They had just
returned to Hartfield, and stopped in the garden to speak with John and Mr. Knightley, who were busying themselves with the sailing of little paper boats on the small pond in the garden, when Mr. Parker approached, scarcely five minutes after they themselves had arrived. He appeared in far higher spirits than Emma might have expected to find him, given his being forestalled so long in the company of Miss Fairfax and Miss Bates, one who scarcely ever spoke, and the other who never ceased. He was smiling as he ever did, and as he drew closer she perceived that he was humming to himself.

  Emma broke away from the rest of the party to greet him, and having done so she observed, “I believe Miss Fairfax played that tune last night, did she not?”

  “Do you know, I think you are right! Nothing gets past Miss Woodhouse! It is an Irish tune, no less – Robin Adair, a great favorite of Mr. Dixon’s.”

  Emma blushed and looked away. “Really, I am quite ashamed, and wish I had never taken up such an idea.”

  “I am very glad you did, and that you communicated it to me. I now have a key to all her odd looks and ways.”

  “And how did you find her and her aunt this morning? I took up your cause, you know, and attempted to scold Mr. Churchill for abandoning you so pitilessly.”

  Mr. Parker beamed at her. “Did you? And what was your success? It was a shocking thing for him to do, was it not? And yet, it is just the sort of trick I might have played myself, on Mr. Churchill, or any of our other friends, if the occasion were to arise.”

  “That is just what Mr. Churchill said!”

  Upon hearing his name, Mr. Churchill joined them at some little remove from the pond, the children, and the rest of their party. “What’s this now?”

  “I am to understand,” Emma replied with a great look of mirth, “that as disreputable as I may find your abuse of Mr. Parker, you are both in the habit of keeping such wicked company quite cheerfully. It is just the sort of mischief I like.”

  “Mischief indeed,” Mr. Parker laughed. “And all the more wicked of Mr. Churchill, for I have been deprived a half-hour at least of your company this morning, on what must be my last day in Highbury!”

  “What, are you going away? But Mr. Churchill must be playing tricks on me, now – he has mentioned none of this.”

  Suppressing a smile, Mr. Churchill merely shrugged. “It was not my news to tell.”

  “No, unfortunately it is mine,” Mr. Parker said. “I have had a letter from Lady Denham just this morning ­ – she is one of the principal citizens of Sanditon, I am sure I have mentioned her to you before. The two of us, and my older brother Tom have always comprised a little committee in the area, and since my older brother has had much to occupy him – rather in the same way as your brother, John Knightley – Lady Denham has come to rely on me for a great many matters of business pertaining to establishing our little community in the world.”

  “I see,” Emma replied. She had heard him describe his involvement in the many enterprises of preparing Sanditon for its inaugural season as a premier seaside destination for England’s elite, but had concluded that the greater share of his endeavors had been completed.

  “Well,” he continued, “the crux of the matter is this: a great deal of progress has been made in making the improvements that Colonel Campbell suggested over the winter, and we may yet have everything ready a little ahead of schedule, but now it is for me to journey to London, and meet with a printer. Pamphlets, Miss Woodhouse – a great many of them, perhaps several hundred, must be purchased, and distributed forthwith. With the completion of so many improvements as I have described to you now so imminent, we want only to spread the word, that our efforts might not be in vain, and we might see the influx of travelers we have long dreamt of, finally make their way to Sanditon this summer. I should be very busy for a fortnight at least, and must bid you farewell this morning, so that I might be about my business.”

  Rebecca and Mrs. Weston had joined them, to hint that they would not object to Emma calling for tea in the parlor, when Rebecca caught the tone of Mr. Parker’s conversation and smiled brightly at him. “Are you going away, Mr. Parker?”

  “I know you shall be as loath to part with me as I shall be to part with you,” he said charmingly. “If you have any letters or any tokens of affection I might carry with me, I should be most happy to save you some little postage, and deliver them to Darcy House myself while I am in Town.”

  “That is very kind of you – truly, I do thank you, Mr. Parker. In fact, I have already dispatched several letters this morning, before we walked into the village.”

  “Well, no matter,” he said. “If the Darcys remain yet in Town, I am sure I must go and pay my respects while I am there – certainly if they were to encounter me anywhere else, they must feel the slight of my neglect if I did not call upon them directly. Perhaps I shall visit once I have had my brochures printed, for I really do mean to get them to Sanditon for a visit; I think they should like it very much.”

  Rebecca merely rolled her eyes, and drily acknowledged that the reality of Sanditon may yet exceed what expectations they had, before moving away.

  Emma took Mrs. Weston’s hint, and invited the gentlemen to come inside for tea. Rebecca tarried outside with Mr. Knightley and John for another quarter hour before joining them in the parlor, during which time Emma and her guests had largely been occupied in listening to Mr. Parker’s abundance of lamentations that he should be obliged to part with them, and many promises that he would do everything within his power to return, if Frank were still in Highbury himself, once his business was complete.

  Emma received all his compliments and promises with good grace, and began to feel two rather curious developments – the first being that she did not mind so much the notion of his going away, particularly when Mr. Churchill was to remain amongst them for some weeks yet. The second was that she thought it rather curious that Mr. Churchill had not mentioned it to her himself, but seemed rather interested in watching her reaction to the news once it was given, and even appeared relieved that she did not express any more disappointment than common courtesy required. It was a curious thing, she thought, for though Mr. Parker had exerted himself a great deal more than Mr. Churchill had to be agreeable to her, faced now with the prospect of his departure, she could only conclude that she was eager to become better acquainted with Mr. Churchill in his friend’s absence.

  ***

  Rebecca could not repine that Mr. Parker had departed Highbury, and that Georgiana would not be in London to receive any addlepated and inconstant addresses Mr. Parker might choose to make once he arrived there. Neither could she make any attempt to conceal her elation; both of her dear cousins were quite safe from the man.

  In the week that had elapsed since Mr. Parker’s going away, Mr. Churchill and Mrs. Weston had been daily fixtures at Hartfield. Not only was Mr. Churchill clearly rising in Emma’s esteem, but Emma was more tranquil during these visits, largely due, Rebecca supposed, to Jane Fairfax’s scarcity in the house. Miss Fairfax had now transitioned so fully in her role as governess as to remain in the school room when Mr. Churchill was present, rather than putting herself forward, as she had been wont to do, by playing with the children on the lawn, where any visitors to Hartfield might see her and feel obliged to speak with her.

  When Mr. Parker had been amongst them, he was very prone to detaining Miss Fairfax on such occasions, perhaps compelled by his own sense of being something of an ambassador of Sanditon, and thus obliged to remain civil to anyone who had ever been a visitor there. He was often spying her out the window, playing with the children during their daily hour of exercise, and arranging some means of drawing them all out of doors to engage with Miss Fairfax, which Rebecca knew vexed Emma greatly. Mr. Churchill, who had been in Miss Fairfax’s company for just as long in Sanditon, felt no such compunction, and only ever occasionally asked after her, a mere common courtesy; Rebecca liked him all the better for it.

  As Rebecca had expected, she found Mr. Knightley to be in
perfect agreement with her on the felicity of Mr. Parker’s departure. They had spoken of the matter several times since Mr. Parker’s going away, and Mr. Knightley was nearly as happy as she that it had taken place. Despite her pleasure at their being in such perfect accord, Rebecca could not but recall what Mrs. Weston had confided that night at the Coles’. Mrs. Weston had suggested that Mr. Knightley was attached to Miss Fairfax, and he certainly had shown a great deal of concern for her on that occasion – perhaps even some jealousy over Mr. Parker’s intention to sing with her. Could this be why he was so happy to see Mr. Parker depart Highbury?

  But no, certainly it could not be – more likely, he was still in love with Emma, which Rebecca had begun to suppose since Mrs. Weston had let it slip that Mr. Knightley once proposed to her. Rebecca watched him closely over the next week, for he too was a daily visitor at Hartfield, yet she was able to determine nothing.

  To be sure, Mr. Knightley seemed more favorably disposed to Mr. Churchill – despite his increasingly marked attentions to Emma – than he had ever been to Mr. Parker, but then this was rather a low bar to hurdle. Frustrated that she could discover nothing, Rebecca was obliged to remind herself that it could be nothing to her if Mr. Knightley did fancy one of the ladies of Highbury. So long as Emma coming to know Mr. Churchill better was not interfered with, she would be satisfied.

  She received a letter from her sister-in-law Marianne, who had gone to Bath to seek the services of a physician famed for his assistance to women who had difficulty bearing children. The letter contained some news to amuse her, and one day when they were all picnicking on the lawn outside Hartfield, Rebecca was moved to share the communication with Emma, Mr. Knightley, Mr. Churchill and the Westons. She produced the letter from her reticule, and skimmed over the first page of the letter, which largely detailed Marianne’s budding friendship with one Catherine Morland, the sister of a gentleman Marianne’s younger sister Margaret had taken a fancy to, despite Margaret being likewise pursued by Captain Frederick Tilney, whose father had come to the rather mercenary conclusion that the sister of a viscountess must have some fortune of her own.