Emma and the Werewolves (31 page)

Read Emma and the Werewolves Online

Authors: Adam Rann

Tags: #romance, #horror, #action, #werewolf, #werewolves, #classics, #classic, #action adventure, #action thriller, #action suspense, #romance regency regency romance clean romance love story regency england, #classic literature, #lycan, #romance novel, #jane austen, #action adventure books, #romancethriller, #lycanthrope, #lycanthropy, #romance and adventure, #action book, #romance horror, #romance fiction, #classic fiction, #romance womens fiction chicklit humor, #action romance, #classical literature, #romance novels, #romance adventure, #lycans, #jane austen sequel, #werewolf book, #lycanthropes, #action adventure suspense, #action adventure fiction novels, #action adventure thriller books

BOOK: Emma and the Werewolves
3.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She opened the parlour
door, and saw two gentlemen sitting with her father—Mr. Weston and
his son. They had been arrived only a few minutes, and Mr. Weston
had scarcely finished his explanation of Frank’s being a day before
his time, and her father was yet in the midst of his very civil
welcome and congratulations, when she appeared, to have her share
of surprize, introduction, and pleasure.

The Frank Churchill so long
talked of, so high in interest, was actually before her—he was
presented to her, and she did not think too much had been said in
his praise; he was a very good looking young man; height, air,
address, all were unexceptionable, and his countenance had a great
deal of the spirit and liveliness of his father’s; he looked quick
and sensible. She felt immediately that she should like him; and
there was a well-bred ease of manner, and a readiness to talk,
which convinced her that he came intending to be acquainted with
her, and that acquainted they soon must be.

He had reached Randalls the evening before.
She was pleased with the eagerness to arrive which had made him
alter his plan, and travel earlier, later, and quicker, that he
might gain half a day.


I told you yesterday,”
cried Mr. Weston with exultation, “I told you all that he would be
here before the time named. I remembered what I used to do myself.
One cannot creep upon a journey; one cannot help getting on faster
than one has planned; and the pleasure of coming in upon one’s
friends before the look-out begins, is worth a great deal more than
any little exertion it needs.”


It is a great pleasure
where one can indulge in it,” said the young man, “though there are
not many houses that I should presume on so far; but in coming home
I felt I might do any thing.”

The word home made his father look on him
with fresh complacency. Emma was directly sure that he knew how to
make himself agreeable; the conviction was strengthened by what
followed. He was very much pleased with Randalls, thought it a most
admirably arranged house, would hardly allow it even to be very
small, admired the situation, the walk to Highbury, Highbury
itself, Hartfield still more, and professed himself to have always
felt the sort of interest in the country which none but one’s own
country gives, and the greatest curiosity to visit it. That he
should never have been able to indulge so amiable a feeling before,
passed suspiciously through Emma’s brain; but still, if it were a
falsehood, it was a pleasant one, and pleasantly handled. His
manner had no air of study or exaggeration. He did really look and
speak as if in a state of no common enjoyment.

Their subjects in general
were such as belong to an opening acquaintance. On his side were
the inquiries, “Was she a horsewoman? Pleasant rides? Pleasant
walks? Had they a large neighbourhood? Highbury, perhaps, afforded
society enough? There were several very pretty houses in and about
it. Balls—had they balls? Was it a musical society?”

But when satisfied on all
these points, and their acquaintance proportionably advanced, he
contrived to find an opportunity, while their two fathers were
engaged with each other, of introducing his mother-in-law, and
speaking of her with so much handsome praise, so much warm
admiration, so much gratitude for the happiness she secured to his
father, and her very kind reception of himself, as was an
additional proof of his knowing how to please—and of his certainly
thinking it worth while to try to please her. He did not advance a
word of praise beyond what she knew to be thoroughly deserved by
Mrs. Weston; but, undoubtedly he could know very little of the
matter. He understood what would be welcome; he could be sure of
little else. “His father’s marriage,” he said, “had been the wisest
measure, every friend must rejoice in it; and the family from whom
he had received such a blessing must be ever considered as having
conferred the highest obligation on him.”

He got as near as he could to thanking her
for Miss Taylor’s merits, without seeming quite to forget that in
the common course of things it was to be rather supposed that Miss
Taylor had formed Miss Woodhouse’s character, than Miss Woodhouse
Miss Taylor’s. And at last, as if resolved to qualify his opinion
completely for travelling round to its object, he wound it all up
with astonishment at the youth and beauty of her person.


Elegant, agreeable
manners, I was prepared for,” said he; “but I confess that,
considering every thing, I had not expected more than a very
tolerably well-looking woman of a certain age; I did not know that
I was to find a pretty young woman in Mrs. Weston.”


You cannot see too much
perfection in Mrs. Weston for my feelings,” said Emma; “were you to
guess her to be eighteen, I should listen with pleasure; but she
would be ready to quarrel with you for using such words. Don’t let
her imagine that you have spoken of her as a pretty young
woman.”


I hope I should know
better,” he replied; “no, depend upon it, (with a gallant bow,)
that in addressing Mrs. Weston I should understand whom I might
praise without any danger of being thought extravagant in my
terms.”

Emma wondered whether the same suspicion of
what might be expected from their knowing each other, which had
taken strong possession of her mind, had ever crossed his; and
whether his compliments were to be considered as marks of
acquiescence, or proofs of defiance. She must see more of him to
understand his ways; at present she only felt they were
agreeable.

She had no doubt of what Mr. Weston was
often thinking about. His quick eye she detected again and again
glancing towards them with a happy expression; and even, when he
might have determined not to look, she was confident that he was
often listening.

Her own father’s perfect
exemption from any thought of the kind, the entire deficiency in
him of all such sort of penetration or suspicion, was a most
comfortable circumstance. Happily he was not farther from approving
matrimony than from foreseeing it. Though always objecting to every
marriage that was arranged, he never suffered beforehand from the
apprehension of any; it seemed as if he could not think so ill of
any two persons’ understanding as to suppose they meant to marry
till it were proved against them. She blessed the favouring
blindness. He could now, without the drawback of a single
unpleasant surmise, without a glance forward at any possible
treachery in his guest, give way to all his natural kind-hearted
civility in solicitous inquiries after Mr. Frank Churchill’s
accommodation on his journey, through the sad evils of sleeping two
nights on the road, and express very genuine unmixed anxiety to
know that he had certainly escaped catching cold—which, however, he
could not allow him to feel quite assured of himself till after
another night.

A reasonable visit paid,
Mr. Weston began to move. “He must be going. He had business at the
Crown about his hay, and a great many errands for Mrs. Weston at
Ford’s, but he need not hurry any body else.” His son, too well
bred to hear the hint, rose immediately also, saying, “As you are
going farther on business, sir, I will take the opportunity of
paying a visit, which must be paid some day or other, and therefore
may as well be paid now. I have the honour of being acquainted with
a neighbour of yours, (turning to Emma,) a lady residing in or near
Highbury; a family of the name of Fairfax. I shall have no
difficulty, I suppose, in finding the house; though Fairfax, I
believe, is not the proper name—I should rather say Barnes, or
Bates. Do you know any family of that name?”


To be sure we do,” cried
his father; “Mrs. Bates—we passed her house—I saw Miss Bates at the
window. True, true, you are acquainted with Miss Fairfax; I
remember you knew her at Weymouth, and a fine girl she is. Call
upon her, by all means.”


There is no necessity for
my calling this morning,” said the young man; “another day would do
as well; but there was that degree of acquaintance at Weymouth
which—”


Oh! go to-day, go to-day.
Do not defer it. What is right to be done cannot be done too soon.
And, besides, I must give you a hint, Frank; any want of attention
to her here should be carefully avoided. You saw her with the
Campbells, when she was the equal of every body she mixed with, but
here she is with a poor old grandmother, who has barely enough to
live on. If you do not call early it will be a slight.”

The son looked convinced.


I have heard her speak of
the acquaintance,” said Emma; “she is a very elegant young
woman.”

He agreed to it, but with so quiet a “Yes,”
as inclined her almost to doubt his real concurrence; and yet there
must be a very distinct sort of elegance for the fashionable world,
if Jane Fairfax could be thought only ordinarily gifted with
it.


If you were never
particularly struck by her manners before,” said she, “I think you
will to-day. You will see her to advantage; see her and hear
her—no, I am afraid you will not hear her at all, for she has an
aunt who never holds her tongue.”


You are acquainted with
Miss Jane Fairfax, sir, are you?” said Mr. Woodhouse, always the
last to make his way in conversation; “then give me leave to assure
you that you will find her a very agreeable young lady. She is
staying here on a visit to her grandmama and aunt, very worthy
people; I have known them all my life. They will be extremely glad
to see you, I am sure; and one of my servants shall go with you to
shew you the way.”


My dear sir, upon no
account in the world; my father can direct me.”


But your father is not
going so far; he is only going to the Crown, quite on the other
side of the street, and there are a great many houses; you might be
very much at a loss, and it is a very dirty walk, unless you keep
on the footpath; but my coachman can tell you where you had best
cross the street.”

Mr. Frank Churchill still declined it,
looking as serious as he could, and his father gave his hearty
support by calling out, “My good friend, this is quite unnecessary;
Frank knows a puddle of water when he sees it, and as to Mrs.
Bates’s, he may get there from the Crown in a hop, step, and
jump.”

They were permitted to go alone; and with a
cordial nod from one, and a graceful bow from the other, the two
gentlemen took leave. Emma remained very well pleased with this
beginning of the acquaintance, and could now engage to think of
them all at Randalls any hour of the day, with full confidence in
their comfort.

After their departure, Emma
decided to seek out Mr. Knightley. He was not hard to find. At work
in the vicarage, he was rather surprized and confounded by her
visit. She could tell from his expression he knew something was
wrong.


Emma, are you well?” he
asked. “What manner of business could bring you here at such a late
hour?”

She noticed he swept something off the top
of the desk into its drawer. The manner in which he did so made her
believe it was something he did not wish her to see. “Actually, I
have a message for you,” she put forth. He seemed on edge and not
entirely himself, as if he was more unsettled by her visit than the
circumstances of it gave rights to be.


A message?” he asked,
getting to his feet and walking around the desk to stand in front
of her.


Yes,” Emma said, turning
her eyes to the window and the setting sun outside. “There is a new
lady here in Highbury. She’s rather a strange sort and I worry
about her health and sanity. I do not know how she came here but
she has no home. I have heard no one else mention her but her name
is Selena. I am torn between entreating you on her behalf to give
her shelter and a new start here amid our homes, and merely
delivering the message she asked of me.”


Emma, you know I don’t
turn down any who need help. God loves us all. The church does not
turn away those in need,” Knightley said, resolute in his beliefs.
“But you say this Selena knows me? I am afraid I do not know
her.”


Oh yes, she has spoken of
you to me during both our brief encounters. I rather thought you
must know her as well, but could not figure out the puzzle of her
wanderings and homelessness, for she must be homeless and live in
the woods hereabouts. I am sure you would have already helped her
if she truly did know you in person.”

Emma noticed his furrowed brow. He was
clearly thinking hard on who this Selena might be. “Emma, what did
she look like?”


Bizarre and beautiful at
once. Both times we met, she wore no clothes. That’s how I know
she’s in trouble of some sort. Yet even so, she had a regal air
about her. She appeared strong and well off in station despite her
nakedness.”

Knightley’s eyes went wide with shock. “She
came to you naked?”

Emma was sure it was the immortality of this
that shocked him so, but Knightley did react as she believed he
would. Gone was the grace and sincerity of his normal self.


Emma, you must stay away
from this woman. I do know of her. She is . . . not right. Promise
me . . .” he said, “promise me if she comes to you again you will
run. I care for you and your father, Emma. I do not want you hurt
any more than you already have been. The attack on Hartfield was
bad enough.”


I can take care of myself,
Mr. Knightley. After all the years of our friendship, surely you
know that. If not, then perhaps you’re merely going through the
motions of acquaintance and know nothing of me.”

Other books

The Earl's Outrageous Lover by Lennox, Elizabeth
Bounty Guns by Short, Luke;
Instructions for Love by Shaw, June
The Black Benedicts by Anita Charles
Revolutionary Petunias by Alice Walker
Pixie’s Prisoner by Lacey Savage
The Last Chance Ranch by D.G. Parker
A Soldier's Tale by M. K. Joseph
The Silver Ghost by Charlotte MacLeod