The Trouble With Emma (13 page)

Emma caught Lizzy’s arm. “You didn’t tell me you invited Mr Knightley,” she hissed, and glared at her sister. “I asked you not to, and yet you did! Why?”

“Because I knew you’d react exactly as you are now,” Lizzy answered, keeping her voice low. “It was all very last minute, this dinner party. He was supposed to bring a plus one along but she couldn’t make it. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t wish to.”

“Of course I have to talk to him!” Emma’s irritation deepened. “This party is for us, Lizzy – for Charlotte and me. How can I
not
speak to him?” An idea suddenly occurred to her, and she regarded her sister in dawning horror. “You haven’t seated me next to him at the dinner table, have you –?”

Lizzy put a hand on her arm. “Last minute change to the seating plan. Just smile and say hello, and make a bit of polite chat over the beef medallions and roasted asparagus. That’s all you need to do.”

“I’m so furious with you right now,” Emma whispered as she shook her hand away, “I swear I could throttle you!”

Lizzy’s expression was wounded. “Honestly, Em, I thought you’d welcome a chance to see him again. You got on so well at daddy’s party.”

“You’re matchmaking, Lizzy Bennet,” Emma hissed, “and I won’t have it!”

“And what if I am?” she retorted. “It’s only what you do to everyone else.”

“What? I
don’t
!”

“You don’t what?” a male voice behind her asked.

Emma spun around, her face flushed with anger, and found herself face to face once again with Mr Knightley.

Chapter 23

The dark blue of his dinner jacket, Emma couldn’t help but notice, exactly matched the blue of his eyes. And he looked at her now with a quizzical expression.

“I – I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t go and visit the Tate Modern while I’m here,” she said, recovering quickly as she found her voice. “I should be
so
disappointed to miss it.”

“I see.” He lifted his brow. “Well, then, that’s easily remedied. I’d be happy to take you. Are you free tomorrow?”

A flush of embarrassment, deep and hot, warmed her cheeks. Now he thought – incorrectly – that she’d been angling for an invitation to the art museum…with him. Emma wanted to die one thousand deaths, right on the spot.

And
then
she wanted to throttle her sister.

“I’d love that, but I’m not sure what Lizzy has planned for us tomorrow,” she managed. “I’ll let you know.”

“Please do.” He smiled politely and held out his arm to her. “Shall we go inside now, Miss Bennet? It seems that you and I –” he paused, and glanced at Lizzy, who quickly looked away “– are dinner partners this evening.”

“Of course we are.” Too overcome with fury at her sister to reply, Emma managed a cool nod and took his arm.

He seated her, and took his place beside her at the table.

“This must be the ‘unmarrieds’ table,” Harry Darcy observed when they’d all exchanged greetings and introductions.

“Is that the same as the children’s table?” Emma asked as she smoothed her napkin across her lap. “Should we feel slighted at being separated from the grownups?”

“Very slighted,” Harry agreed. “I also think we’re sitting in Siberia back here.” His glance flickered over the other tables. “I’m quite insulted.”

“Oh, Harry, do be quiet.” Holly laid her hand atop his and smiled over at Emma. “Miss Bennet will think you really mean it.”

“On the contrary,” Emma assured her. “I know Harry better than most, so I know not to believe a word he says.”

As they laughed and moved on to discuss the recent regatta race Harry had won, she turned to her dinner partner with a quizzical expression. “Where’s your date, Mr Knightley? Lizzy mentioned she couldn’t make it tonight. What a shame.”

Although she’d hoped to put him on the spot with the question, he gave her an easy smile. “Yes, it was most unfortunate. Eleanor had to cancel at the last minute, when her husband showed up unexpectedly.”

Emma’s lips parted but no sound emerged. Her shock was too deep. “Her…husband?” she echoed. “Your date is – married?”

“Yes. Eleanor,” he added, his eyes alight with amusement, “is my sister. Her husband’s a captain in the Royal Marines and he decided to surprise her with an early return. He wasn’t expected home until tomorrow.”

She could still hear Charlotte’s words earlier that afternoon.
You open yourself up for it, Em. Why don’t you let your guard down for once and quit being so bloody serious? Relax and have fun!

Emma regarded him in exasperation. “You enjoy making a fool of me, don’t you?”

“I doubt that anyone has ever succeeded in making a fool of you, Miss Bennet. You’re far too clever for that.”

“But not too clever to avoid sitting here at dinner with you now, it seems.” Her smile, although forced, took the sting from her words.

“Your sister’s motives are quite transparent,” he agreed, and picked up his wine glass. “But I confess they’re not entirely unwelcome.”

“Are you merely being polite, Mr Knightley?” Emma asked. “Or are you, perhaps, teasing me?”

He smiled, and his eyes crinkled attractively. “I’ll leave you to decide.”

The salads were served, sparing her a reply. As she picked up her fork and speared a bit of cucumber drizzled in lemon vinaigrette, she glanced over at Mr Knightley.

“It’s a pity you don’t have a proper date tonight,” she observed.

“But I do. You’re my date, Miss Bennet. At least as far as your sister’s concerned.”

Emma laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Lizzy didn’t arrange for Eleanor’s husband to get an early leave at the last minute, just so I could be your dinner partner tonight.” She paused. “Tell me – was Isabella Fairfax not available tonight?”

He frowned. “Isabella? What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing, really. Just that you and she got on like a house afire at daddy’s party. I’m surprised you didn’t bring her along as your plus one.”

“I enjoyed talking to Miss Fairfax.” He shrugged. “Mr Churchill introduced us, and I’m glad he did. She’s quite an interesting and industrious young woman.”

“Yes, I’m sure she is,” Emma murmured, and took a sip of her wine. “Clever, too, I shouldn’t imagine.”

“Oh, yes, quite clever.” A glint of something akin to amusement glimmered in his eyes as he regarded her. “She’s studying to become a hat designer, you know.”

“Yes, she mentioned it. She’ll be the next Philip Treacy, no doubt.”

He laid his fork aside. “Miss Bennet – I do hope you’re not envious of Isabelle. You’ve no reason to be.”

“
Envious
?” Emma let out a brittle laugh. “That’s absurd! Why on earth should I feel envious of that…that aspiring hat designer?”

“You shouldn’t.” He leaned over until his forehead was nearly touching hers. “You’re far more clever than she.”

Emma bristled. “Are you making fun of me, Mr Knightley?”

He straightened, his eyes dark with amusement. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Bennet.”

She glared at him, then returned her attention to her salad. For some minutes they ate in silence.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Knightley said as he buttered his roll, “are you seeing anyone in particular at the moment?”

Although she was taken aback by his question, Emma gave no sign. “I’m not, no.”

“Are you up for a bit of fun at your sister’s expense?”

“That depends,” she said cautiously. “What did you have in mind?”

“Since we’re both unattached, I thought we might wind Lizzy up a bit, let her think we’re madly attracted to one another.”

Emma hesitated. There was no denying she was beyond annoyed with Lizzy for her matchmaking attempt. Perhaps making her think there was a real romance between her and Mr Knightley would teach her sister a well-deserved lesson.

“It sounds intriguing,” she admitted. “But...how do you propose we go about it?”

“Oh, that’s easy enough. We’ll remain inseparable for the rest of the evening. We’ll talk, and stare into one another’s eyes. We’ll feed each other cake from our dessert plates. And then,” he added, his dark eyes gleaming, “we’ll go out on the terrace…alone.” He glanced over at Harry and Holly, who were listening to their plans with amusement. “Sorry, you two.”

“Oh, no problem,” Harry said, and grinned. “I’m loving it.” He spoke in a mock-presenter’s voice. “Don’t miss tonight’s episode of the ongoing Bennet sisters chronicle – ‘Lizzy Gets Her Comeuppance.’”

“And what happens once we’re out on the terrace?” Emma asked in a low voice as the salad plates were cleared a few minutes later.

“We’ll talk,” Knightley said. “Nothing more than that, Miss Bennet.”

“You won’t – you won’t get any ideas, Mr Knightley, will you?”

“Mark.” He smiled, amused. “And I assure you, Miss Bennet, I will not. I promise to be on my best behaviour.”

And as they shook hands in agreement, Emma felt a quiver of anticipation along with the tiniest flicker of disappointment.

How much more fun it would be
, she mused,
if Mark Knightley
hadn’t
promised to behave himself
…

***

For the rest of the evening, Emma and Mark Knightley flirted. They talked, and smiled, and sat on a loveseat in the corner with their heads together and their knees touching.

“Is it working?” she murmured as she stared adoringly – or at least she hoped it appeared so – into his eyes. “Is Lizzy noticing us?”

His glance flickered away. “I’d say so, yes. She’s scarcely taken her eyes off us and she has what I can only term a smirk of self-satisfaction on her face.”

“Good.” For some reason, Emma’s heartbeat quickened as he returned his gaze to hers. “I hope you don’t think me childish for going along with this ruse of yours?”

“Not at all. I’m enjoying it much more than the usual dinner parties I attend.” His lips turned up in a smile. “And I’m all for having a laugh at someone else’s expense…especially if that someone deserves it. Shall we go outside to the terrace now?”

Although the nearness of him, and the scent of his aftershave, made her feel as rattled as a schoolgirl, Emma’s face was composed as they stood and made their way outside. She felt the heat of his hand resting on the small of her back and a shiver, slight but very real, coursed up her spine.

She caught Harry and Holly’s eyes as they passed, and they nodded ever so slightly in amused understanding.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Harry murmured to Mark as they walked by.

“Have fun,” Holly whispered to Emma as her eyes went to Mr Knightley. “But not
too
much fun.”

And as Emma stepped out onto the terrace, Mark’s hand still resting lightly on her back, she couldn’t help but wonder why a perfectly innocent prank played on her sister with Mr Knightley should make her heart race or fill her with such an odd mix of nervousness and excitement.

It was most perplexing.

Chapter 24

The sounds of traffic, distant and muted, rose up as Emma went to the railing and gazed out into the darkness overhead.

“It’s never really dark here in the city,” Mark observed as he came to stand beside her. “Too many lights, too much going on. Still – it’s nice, isn’t it? Like being alone on a mountaintop in the middle of Covent Garden.”

“It’s lovely,” she agreed. “So peaceful. You’d scarcely know we were in London.” She paused. “It’s times like this – when it’s quiet, or when I’m alone and have a moment to think – that I miss my mother the most.”

“That’s understandable.” His voice was quiet, his face indistinct in the darkness. “You were her first. You knew her longer and better than either of your sisters did.”

“Yes. Not that we had a perfect relationship,” she hastened to add. “We didn’t. But she understood me in a way my father and sisters never did…and she still loved me, despite it.” Emma’s smile was wry and amused and sad all at once.

“Your father’s done an excellent job raising you and Charlotte and Lizzy. I can only imagine how difficult it must’ve been for him after Mrs Bennet died.”

“He was lost, utterly lost. But somehow he managed. No one could ask for a better father.” She blushed and glanced over at him. “I’m sorry. We’re supposed to be out here, pretending to be madly attracted to one another, and all I can do is moan and talk about maudlin things.”

“I think talking about maudlin things comes under the heading of getting to know each other.” He paused. “I lost my mother at an early age – six, to be exact. So I don’t properly remember her. I do remember that she once baked dozens of fairy cakes for my birthday. She arranged them on cake stands, stacked one atop the other to look like one enormous cake, and put a candle in every single one until the entire thing was a blaze of light. It was amazing, and probably a terrible fire hazard; but I’ll never forget it.”

“What a wonderful memory to have. Perhaps your mum and mine are keeping each other company now.” Her words were wistful.

“I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that none of us is ever really alone.”

“Careful, Mr Knightley,” Emma murmured, and smiled as she turned to rest her hip against the railing. “You’re waxing poetic. I’m beginning to think there might be a real person lurking under that expensive bespoke suit you wear.”

“And I begin to think there might be a real person lurking under those proper manners and that barnyard mud you affect, Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice low and warmed with amusement as he drew closer. “Someone interesting.” His expression grew serious. “Someone I might, perhaps, want to know better.”

He kissed her.
Such a simple thing, really
, Emma thought fleetingly as his arms settled around her waist and their lips touched, melded, parted, touched again. All of it was a pretence, of course. The brush of his suit jacket against her silk bodice…the press of his fingers against her back…the practised skill of his mouth against hers…

It was all a sham.

But as his hand came up to gently cup her face and deepen the kiss, Emma allowed herself to hope, just for a moment, that it might be real.

We’re just two people, hearts beating like a pair of caught birds, standing here alone in the darkness of a London rooftop
…