by Jayne Bamber
Despite his obviously disquieted spirits, and a sense of good cheer that was visibly forced, Mr. Parker observed to Rebecca what pleasure he was taking in their excursion, and how happy he was to be in their company once more.
“I am glad to hear it,” said she, “though I cannot say I am convinced of the fact. You were certainly very cross yesterday, and I feared you were not at all improved since then.”
“Oh, no! Do not say I was cross – I was fatigued. The heat overcame me.”
“It is hotter today.”
“Not to my feelings. I am perfectly comfortable today,” Mr. Parker insisted.
“You are comfortable because you are under better command, I hope.”
“Your command? Yes. We agreed that it would be so. Indeed, I am sure I have long been under your command.”
“What nonsense! You have been so for no longer than since perhaps three o’clock yesterday.”
“And yet, when we met last autumn, you certainly began to influence me then, I am sure. In some ways, quite particularly.”
Rebecca was aware that he must be making some allusion to her intervening in his flirtation with Georgiana, but she could little acknowledge it now, amongst so much company. Everyone else had grown rather dull, perhaps fatigued by the heat and the walking; most of the conversations around them had died away. The Eltons looked cross, John and Miss Fairfax equally so, and when Rebecca met Mr. Knightley’s eye, she instantly felt that she could not bear to imagine what he might be thinking. She feared that anyone who could hear Mr. Parker making such a speech must only misinterpret his meaning, which was meant to be understood fully only by herself. She replied, “Nobody speaks except ourselves here – we must not speak such nonsense for the entertainment of ten silent people.”
“I have said nothing of which I am ashamed,” said he, with lively impudence. “We met last autumn – let everybody on the hill hear me if they can.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Our companions are excessively stupid, is it not so Frank?”
Frank Churchill and Emma had not been quite as silent as the others, but had merely been whispering between themselves at a more appropriate volume than Mr. Parker’s idle chatter.
The rest of their party all looked between Frank Churchill and Mr. Parker, as if they wished to be entertained but knew not how. Mr. Churchill merely shook his head at his friend, and owned that he was perfectly content. “I believe Miss Woodhouse and I are getting on just fine.”
“Here is a man who shall at least speak his mind,” Mr. Parker observed to the group. “That is just the kind of thing I like. I daresay my favorite companion here, Lady Rebecca, desires such candor, such a delightful lack of reserve, as much as I must prize it at present. Yes, that is it – we desire to know what you are all thinking of!”
“No indeed,” cried Rebecca, laughing as carelessly as she could, if only to conceal her mounting sense of awkwardness. She braved another glance at Mr. Knightley, who sat near John and Miss Fairfax, and the disapproval written on his countenance stung Rebecca. “Upon no account in the world. It is the very last thing I would stand the brunt of just now. Let me hear anything rather than what you are all thinking of. There are perhaps only one or two of you whose thoughts I might not be afraid of knowing.”
Mrs. Elton began to sputter with indignation at such a request being made, and was quickly appeased by her husband, who patted her hand and fixed Rebecca with a dark look. Mr. Parker paid them no heed, but addressed his friend once more. “It puts me in mind of a game we once played in Sanditon, Frank – you must recall. We must hear from you all – all ten of you, besides myself and Lady Rebecca, who is pleased to say she is very entertained by me already – we must hear from you each one thing very clever, be it prose or verse – or two things moderately clever – or three things very dull indeed, and we both promise to laugh very heartily at them all.”
Rebecca could only shake her head at Mr. Parker, a little bemused, but really beginning to fear how the rest of their company might react to such a demand. Mr. Churchill even looked skeptical of his friend’s erratic behavior, and Emma gave Rebecca a quizzical look, which she could only answer with a shrug and shake of her head.
Mrs. Elton instantly declined. “I must be excused,” said she. “I am not at all fond of this sort of thing. I am not one of those who has such clever things at everybody’s service; I really must be allowed to judge when to speak and when to hold my tongue. Pass us, if you please, Mr. Parker. Pass Mr. E, Knightley, Jane, and myself. We have nothing clever to say – not one of us.”
“Yes,” Mr. Elton snarled, “I am sure I could have nothing to say that any young lady but my wife must wish to hear.”
Mr. Parker laughed and addressed Miss Fairfax. “Is this so – does Mrs. Elton speak for you? Have you nothing I might wish to hear, Miss Fairfax?”
Miss Bates answered before her niece could make any reply. “I suppose I need not be uneasy – three things very dull indeed – that will do for me, you know. I am sure I shall say three very dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth, is it not so?” She looked around with the most good-humored dependence upon everybody’s assent.
Emma grinned at her. “Oh, but there may be a difficulty – you will be limited as to number – only three at once!”
At first Miss Bates appeared not to understand, but Rebecca perceived the moment that comprehension had dawned on her. “Oh yes – to be sure. Yes, I am sure I see what you mean.” She turned with a look of great distress to Mr. Knightley, and spoke in a hushed tone. “I will try to hold my tongue. I must make myself very disagreeable, or else she would not have said such a thing to an old friend.”
Mr. Knightley cast a withering glare in the direction of Emma, Rebecca, Mr. Parker and Mr. Churchill, before abruptly rising to his feet; he claimed a desire to be walking again. He asked Miss Bates to accompany him, and helped the good lady to her feet. The Eltons were next in expressing a wish to resume their exploring, and as they moved away, Mr. Elton was heard saying, “Come, Isabella, I am sure the view must be better from anywhere else.”
Mrs. Elton hesitated, beckoning for Miss Fairfax to join her, but in such a way as one might call a dog, and Miss Fairfax made her no answer, looking uncomfortably out into the distance – Mrs. Elton grimaced, and led her husband along.
“Happy couple,” said Mr. Parker, as soon as the Eltons were out of hearing. “How well they suit one another! Very lucky – marrying as they did, upon an acquaintance formed only in a public place! They only knew each other for a few weeks in Bath. Peculiarly lucky, for as to any real knowledge of a person’s disposition that Bath, or any public place can give – it is all nothing, there can be no knowledge. It is only by seeing women in their own homes, among their own set, just as they always are, that one could form any real judgment. Short of that, it is all guess and luck – and will generally be ill luck. How many a man has committed himself upon short acquaintance, and rued all the rest of his life!”
Emma and Mr. Churchill, taking their own particular meaning from Mr. Parker‘s observation, exchanged a tender look with one another – certainly Mr. Churchill’s seeing Emma amongst her own set had done a great deal to secure his regard for her, a notion which pleased Rebecca enormously. Beyond that, she could not like him making such an observation, as it once more moved her to question whether she had been quite right to separate him from Georgiana.
Miss Fairfax, who had spoken very little up until now, observed, “Such things do occur, undoubtedly.” She stopped herself abruptly, blushing.
Mr. Parker gave her an odd look. “You were speaking? Go on.”
“I was only going to observe that though such unfortunate circumstances do sometimes occur, I cannot imagine them to be very frequent. A hasty and impudent attachment may arise, but there is generally time to recover from it afterwards. It can be only weak and irresolute characters, whose happiness must always be at the mercy of chance, who will suffer an unfortunate acquaintance to be an inconvenience,
an oppression forever.”
“That is a very generous view, I am sure, Miss Fairfax. I believe you must be thinking of the Dixons, who I understand met in Sanditon, and are so happy together in Ireland now. But for some others I could think of, forming an attachment in such a place, after a short acquaintance, can leave no room for doubt, once one’s word is given. If a man wishes to honor a promise that has been made, it may cost him a great deal.” After making such a reply, Mr. Parker turned to address Rebecca, leaning in very close to her, but without lowering his voice, and he continued on in a lively tone. “I have so little confidence in my own judgment, that whenever I marry, I hope somebody will choose my wife for me. Will you, Lady Rebecca? Will you choose a wife for me? I am sure I should like anybody fixed on by you – I believe you to be a lady who makes every proper consideration in such matters.”
From this Rebecca could only understand that he still regretted Georgiana, and that perhaps his feelings for her had been more genuine than Rebecca had considered when she had warned him away. Given all that Mr. Parker had confided at Donwell, she began to feel quite confused. Mr. Parker had spoken of his sense of rebellion toward his patroness, Lady Denham, and her insistence that he act with mercenary intentions, even suggesting that such pressure might force him to choose a penniless wife as an assertion of his own independence, and yet Georgiana was certainly not penniless. She was, in fact, exactly the sort of heiress to please Lady Denham, and it was her very fortune that had made Rebecca suspicious of his intentions. She was less certain of them now, nor was she entirely clear on what he seemed to be attempting to convey to her. Certainly nothing too serious could be discussed amidst such company.
Emma and Frank had resumed their private, whispered conversation, and Miss Fairfax began to grow restless – she wanted to be walking, and John offered to accompany her; the Westons were moved to do the same. As they began to move away, Rebecca observed to them, “Well now, I shall amuse our companions here as best I can in your absence, Miss Fairfax, and if you should happen to encounter your friend Mrs. Elton on your walk with Cousin John, do inform her that I am not the least bit distressed by it – it is very good that he should be such an attentive employer to you.”
Emma giggled and gave Rebecca a little smirk at the recollection of Mrs. Elton’s absurd presumptions, and Miss Fairfax seemed to feel it, too. John, who had remained ignorant of what they had overheard, only gave Rebecca a strange look. “For Heaven’s sake, I believe this heat is driving everyone quite mad.”
When John and Miss Fairfax had left them, Emma burst out laughing, as did Mr. Churchill, who had apparently been informed of Mrs. Elton’s absurd supposition. He likewise informed Mr. Parker. “Oh yes, the illustrious Mrs. Elton has prophesied that Rebecca must marry John, and dismiss Miss Fairfax as governess.”
Mr. Parker only scoffed. “I still cannot understand how Miss Fairfax ever consented to take up such a position at all, when she might have gone off to Ireland, to be with the Dixons, or remained at her aunt’s house a little while longer. It was folly to sink herself so low, when I am sure it was never necessary.”
“It was necessary for Hartfield, sir,” Rebecca observed. His ill-humor was really beginning to grate on her nerves. Just when she had finally begun to like him, he was strangely compelled to behave like more of an ass than he had ever done in the whole course of their acquaintance! He had driven away nearly all their companions, and even Rebecca had no wish to defend him at such a time – what she really wanted was to leave him to Mr. Churchill, in the hope that he might talk – or knock – some sense into his friend. With this goal in mind, she asked Emma to walk with her.
She and Emma moved away, taking a turn on a part of the hillside that none of their other companions were exploring, and once they were in privacy, they took advantage of being able to talk freely. “How very queer Mr. Parker is behaving today,” Emma observed. “I cannot account for it.”
“You only think it is strange because you were so accustomed to being the object of all his attentions, upon his previous visit.”
“And yet, that is a change I cannot regret,” Emma replied. “He can be rather overbearing, at times. I suppose you were quite right about him.”
“It is odd,” Rebecca admitted, “but I have only just begun wondering if I was quite right. There was something I had not told you before, though in truth, I am not sure if it is right for me to tell you now, either.”
“What is it?”
Rebecca hesitated, but there was such a beseeching look upon Emma’s countenance that, after extracting a promise that Emma should disclose the information no further, Rebecca replied, “I once supposed Mr. Parker to be attached to my other cousin, Georgiana Darcy. She is quite young, and they were introduced before she was even out in society. I did what I could to discourage her interest in him. Not out of any malicious intent, I assure you, but merely a desire that she see more of the world before giving her heart away. I do not think I was wrong, and yet Mr. Parker has made such comments to me these last two days, that I begin to think he was far more attached to her than I had realized.”
“How curious,” Emma said. “It is the oddest thing, for since we have been here this afternoon, Mr. Churchill has made some hints to me that have led me to conclude Mr. Parker must be attached to Miss Fairfax. I had considered it before, as they were so long together at Sanditon.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I cannot credit that at all! It may explain why he came back to Highbury with Mr. Churchill, if not for your sake, but I daresay I have never observed any partiality between Jane and Mr. Parker, not even on his last visit, when he was so flirtatious with you. And how rude they have been to one another today! I cannot imagine them to be on good terms at all. But, truly, I cannot account for anything in all this heat, and I am sure it must be the same for everyone else. We are none of us our best selves today, I fear. And by the by, I really ought to scold you for what you said to poor Miss Bates!”
“Oh, you know me – I could not resist. At any rate, I am sure she did not understand me. There has been no offense at all.”
“I am sure she did understand you, Emma. She looked quite dismayed, and I heard her whisper to Mr. Knightley – I am sure she took your meaning.”
Emma merely rolled her eyes and gave a great huff of indignation, but made no reply. They walked on in silence a few minutes longer, before Emma turned the subject to Frank Churchill, and her delight in his return. Rebecca was happy enough to hear it, and spoke with enough animation to assure her cousin that she was not so very cross with Emma for her rudeness. In truth, she was very happy that the union between Frank Churchill and Emma was beginning to seem so imminent, and longed to indulge in a good gossip with Mrs. Weston about it.
It was not too much longer before everyone began to think of going away. Their party reunified once more to call for their carriages; goodbyes were all exchanged, and Mr. Parker and Mr. Churchill approached Emma and Rebecca to express a fond wish of meeting with them again soon. Mr. Parker had apparently been thoroughly chastened by his friend, just as Rebecca had wished. His equanimity seemed restored, and he promised Rebecca to be entirely under her command when next they met – he would behave with all the gallantry he had ever displayed. Rebecca accepted this pledge with a hard look before shaking hands with him, likewise promising that she would exert every effort to hold him to that vow.
“I shall ever be bound to the vows I make,” he said quixotically, giving them a bow, and then turning to doff his hat to Miss Fairfax and Miss Bates, who were just passing by, to be handed into their carriage by Mr. Knightley.
Mr. Knightley looked around, and after assisting his two charges into their carriage, he approached them and led Emma and Rebecca a little away from the others. “I would have a word with you both, if you please,” said he. “First with you Emma – how could you be so unfeeling to Miss Bates? How could you be so insolent in your wit to a woman of her character, age, and situation? I had not thought it possibl
e.”
“Take heart, Mr. Knightley,” Rebecca interposed on her cousin’s behalf. “I have thoroughly scolded her for it already. I am sure she is very sorry.” Grimacing at Mr. Knightley, Emma agreed that it was so.
“Well! I am glad you have some sense, Rebecca. It was badly done, Emma, badly done indeed! As for you,” he said, rounding on Rebecca, “you have acquitted yourself little better this afternoon – I heard of what you spoke to Miss Fairfax – your insinuations about John.”
“Good heavens! That? Come, now – after all that Mrs. Elton gave voice to you, in supposing that I should marry John! Let your remonstrance be for her – if anyone has done wrong, it must be she. There can be naught amiss with my acknowledging that I happened to hear it, and I must put paid to such a rumor. I cannot allow such a thing to be speculated on, even by those so far beneath me!”
“Defend yourself, if you like,” Mr. Knightley snapped, “but perhaps, next time, not at Miss Fairfax’s expense. She was mortified by it, I am sure, and thought that you were making an entirely different manner of insinuation – she understood you to be supposing something else, and was beginning to think she ought to leave John’s employ if such a thing were to be put about! Your complaint is with Mrs. Elton; let her feel your displeasure, and say no more about it to poor Miss Fairfax, for she is suffering enough already, and far more than she deserves.”
They were approaching their carriage now – John was already within, and Mr. Knightley handed both Rebecca and Emma into it without a further word. The drive back to Hartfield was passed in complete silence amongst all three of them – whatever John’s particular reason for ill humor on this occasion, Rebecca could spare hardly a thought for. Her own dismay, and whatever Emma must feel, gave her pause enough. She was mortified to have been scolded thus by Mr. Knightley, strangely discomposed that Miss Fairfax should have confided in him, and that he had been moved to such a rousing defense of his brother’s governess – she could only imagine what Mrs. Weston must conjecture. In short, she was utterly wretched over how very strange a day it had been, despite holding every promise of being otherwise.