Chapter Twenty-Two
The family from Hartfield had taken two carriages to Milton Hall; the ladies all rode with Mr. Woodhouse, while John Knightley went in his carriage to collect Mr. Elton, for it had been raining in the morning and John had offered when he encountered the vicar in the village.
Emma presumed they would maintain the same arrangements for the return journey, but John had other ideas.
Mr. Woodhouse had been agitated all evening; he had scarcely recovered from Emma’s engagement to be met with the great shock of Jane Fairfax having an identical twin.
Emma knew she had caused him enough distress, and she had been too caught up in her own enjoyment of the evening to attend her father as diligently as she generally managed.
His discomfort only made Isabella restless, and John resolved that he would ride in the carriage with his wife.
Miss Taylor was already within the same barouche, which left Emma to ride with Mr. Elton in the second carriage.
“There can be little harm in it; you are an engaged woman, Emma,” John reassured her, helping her into the carriage and then waving as Mr. Elton clambered in after her.
He took the seat across from her, but she could smell the alcohol on his breath; after dinner, she suspected he had over-imbibed, and she thought he appeared uncommonly ridiculous as he gazed at her from the opposite seat.
As the carriage lurched into motion, he said, “I have yet to congratulate you on your unexpected engagement, Miss Woodhouse.”
“I believe you did so several times this evening,” Emma corrected him.
“Of course – you are perfectly right, as ever. I suppose I had forgotten, for your enthusiasm was rather less than one might expect of a beautiful, blushing bride.”
“I was caught up in the other sources of excitement this evening, as we all were,” Emma said a little defensively.
“And the banns are not to be called tomorrow?”
Emma rather doubted what condition the vicar would be in at the morning’s services. “My brother is a barrister; he is overseeing the marriage contract first.”
Mr. Elton leaned forward and smiled at her in what he must suppose to be a particularly dashing way; it was not. “If you have any hesitation, perhaps you may be pleased to hear that there is another way.”
Of course there was – Emma fully intended to repel Mr. Bingley in no time at all. But this was none of the vicar’s concern, and she only stared at him with wide eyes and a smirk of distaste.
“I shall take your silence as agreement, fair Miss Woodhouse. I believe we understand one another.” He reached for her hand and clasped it tightly.
“Yes, I can see by your smile that you have begun to desire my suit as an alternative to your present encumbrance. He is a tawdry tradesman with a pair of sisters I have seen you sneer at – he cannot make you happy. I may be a humble vicar, but I am the grandson of an earl, with enough gentility to understand how to please a lady like yourself.”
Emma sneered at him. He was the second son of a second son, and had not half the right to such a claim as a man such as Mr. Darcy. It was a laughable boast – and laugh she did. “Sir! What can you be saying!”
“I am begging you, with all my heart, Miss Woodhouse, to marry me instead of that fool Bingley, and allow me to devote myself to your comfort and delight.”
“You mistake me for my friend, surely,” Emma hedged, finally managing to withdraw her hand from his.
“Your friend? What friend? Miss Bennet, perhaps? She is comely and well-bred, though her origins are rather too mysterious for my liking. But what is Miss Bennet to Miss Woodhouse? Does the golden sun not shine brighter than the dark moon?”
“I refer to Miss Fairfax, of course,” Emma cried. “You have called at her cottage nearly every day this week!”
“Miss Fairfax! What is Miss Fairfax to me! She has a satirical eye and a very unbecoming style of address for a girl who is dependent on strangers.”
“She has ten thousand pounds! Have you ten thousand pounds?”
“I should hope I am worthy of far more,” Mr. Elton huffed.
“I never thought of Miss Fairfax – she was uncommonly morose this evening – I only ever visited her grandmother’s cottage because I had been told I might find you there!
I have taken the greatest pleasure in your company, and should seek it to the ends of the earth, Miss Woodhouse. ”
“I beg you would not,” she cried, shoving him backward in his seat as he reached for her again.
“I am engaged, sir, and I must I inform you that I cannot consider you a pleasing alternative to Mr. Bingley. I am astonished you should think otherwise, but for the sake of peace between us, I shall credit your presumption to the fine quality of wine Mr. Bingley offered us this evening.”
“You encouraged me at every turn!”
“I thought you a fair prospect for my friend – nothing more. It was a lark of mine, but clearly we were each mistaken. We need belabor the matter no longer.”
To Emma’s relief, the carriage stopped in front of the vicarage, and Mr. Elton drunkenly shambled out of the carriage. “Certainly not, Miss Woodhouse. I daresay we shall not meet again for some time. Good evening, madam.”
Mr. Elton bowed, and with a look of disdain that rendered him rather grotesque, he slammed the door of the carriage. As the equipage once again jolted into motion, Emma let out a peal of strange laughter. “Good Lord,” she said to herself, in shock from the sheer audacity of the horrid little man.
For the remainder of her journey back to Hartfield, she could only continue to laugh to herself as she realized that never had she been so delighted at being soundly proven wrong.
Indeed, she could not wait to tell her new friends this preposterous tale.
But first, she was going to find something with which she might beat John Knightley about the head.