Emma’s first years of marriage were as happy as she could have hoped for. She and Knightley lived at Hartfield with her dear father, making his last years free of any care. When he died peacefully in his sleep, after seeing his new granddaughter, it was not a time for sadness, but a change of seasons as winter gives way to spring. At the beginning of summer, Emma was walking in the garden, cuddling sweet Ellie, while Knightley walked by her side, throwing sticks to their two dogs.

"We must begin to think of moving to Donwell," said Emma.

"Indeed," said Knightley. "But the renovations will not be completed for another two months."

"It is all due to the war – the damask that I ordered from France took an age." Emma smiled up at him. "Next time I will buy my fabrics from Italy instead!"

"Then it is to be hoped we are not at war with Italy in twenty years time," said Knightley, "for I do not intend to put my home into the carpenters’ hands again a day sooner."

"But if I cannot redesign our home periodically, what am I to do?" asked Emma. "You will not allow me to match make anymore."

"You may make over Hartfield with Isabella when she finally takes it over."

"But when is that to be?" Emma adjusted the cooing bundle in her arms. "There will be tenants here soon. Oh, how I wish John did not insist my sister and the boys stay in London with him."

"You know she stays because she likes to, and not under his orders."

Emma had to admit that Isabella was happier by her husband’s side, and preferred the bustle of city life to quieter country living. "It is hard to think of strangers living in my home," she said with a sigh.

"John informs me that the Bennet ladies are from a very respectable family."

"I hope to be far away the day that they come – I cannot bear the thought of seeing them."

"Dearest, surely you will visit them. Must I speak to you about snubbing worthy spinsters and their widowed mother yet again?"

Emma blushed and hung her head. She did not like being reminded of the way she had treated Miss Bates when she was young and foolish. She still found it difficult to bear the lady’s conversation, but she did it for her husband – she hated for him to think ill of her.

Knightley gave her a hug to show that he understood what she was thinking, and then he threw a stick across the flowerbeds and into the pond. Both dogs went running. "We must get back to the house," he said, giving her a kiss on the nose and taking little Ellie from her arms. "We are to have visitors shortly."

"Miss Bates and her mother!" cried Emma. "You should have reminded me sooner. You know Mrs Bates expects a coddled egg and I forgot to warn cook to send a boy to the henhouse to find the smallest one he could."

Her afternoon idyll at an end, Emma picked up her skirts and raced towards the house. Knightley followed at a more leisurely pace, as Ellie squirmed and giggled, reaching ineffectually towards the dogs that were jumping at his heels.

~

"Oh Miss . . . Mrs Knightley," said Miss Bates once both ladies had seen Mrs Bates ensconced in her favorite chair by the fire. "I bring such news, To be sure you may already have heard it, but then again I do not think so. You see, I have just had a letter from my niece, Jane Churchill – I know it is not her regular day for writing but she thought we ought be apprised of this news as soon as possible, for it is quite different from the news I told her. Oh dear – I seem to have it all in a muddle, but surely you, Miss Woo – Mrs Knightley, will be able to advise me of the truth of the matter, for you see it concerns Hartfield."

Emma held her breath, counted to five, and then exhaled. "I am all anticipation."

Knightley, who had entered the room at that precise moment, looked at her sternly.

"To be sure, to be sure. You must wonder, indeed, what I am about to impart for I have not made it at all clear. But it is very lucky that Jane has written of it to me, and today of all days, when I was on my way here to see you already, though I should have come directly to tell you at any rate, were I not expected to call already. Quite providential. I hope my news does not alarm you – though I do have a solution in mind – one that I believe will serve very well, if you should be so kind as to overlook my presumption in inviting you, of course, for I know what the state of things is here, and how refurbishment is progressing at Donwell too. Did I tell you that I stopped in at Mrs Adderton’s shop and was lucky enough to see a swatch of the damask you ordered from France? The one she is covering your settee and footstools in? Such lovely colours! And the patterns! Flowers and peacocks! Imagine! In my youth I had wanted to cover our sofa in periwinkle blue, but mother advised against it, and in retrospect I have to admit that the pink roses have stood the test of time."

"The news, Miss Bates," said Emma. "What is this dire news Jane has sent?"

"Oh Miss – Mrs Knightly! I do not know how to bring myself to tell you. When I heard that Hartfield was let I knew how it must pain you – and now this! To think that you informed me the new tenants would not be moving in until September, but I have it from Jane – and she saw the carts loaded with bandboxes and furnishings with her own eyes. Why there was even a pianoforte and a birdcage!"

"What carts are you speaking of, Miss Bates?"

"Why, the Bennet ladies', of course! You know that Mr and Mrs Churchill took Netherfield Hall. The neighborhood was in quite an uproar. ‘Netherfield Hall has been let at last!’ was all one heard in the village of Meryton for a fortnight, so I am told. The Bennets resided in Longbourn, but in the event of the death of Mr. Bennet, a Mr Collins and his wife took over their establishment. I recall that Jane told me the youngest sister said to her, ‘It is a good thing we managed to lease Hartfield, or we would have been thrown out to live in the hedgerows as mother always feared.’ I do not think she said this in all seriousness, you understand – I believe she was making a joke."

"Am I to understand," asked Emma, attempting to restrain her rising temper, "that the Bennets who are taking Hartfield have already loaded their possessions into carts? It does not take two months to transport goods from Hertfordshire to Surrey."

"Less than two weeks," said Mr Knightley calmly.

"What are we to do?" cried Emma. "Donwell is not ready! I cannot still be here when they arrive!"

"That is just what I told myself when I read dear Jane’s letter," said Miss Bates. "What is Miss – Mrs Knightly to do? Where shall she go? I was afraid you would immediately regret your choice of French damask, peacocks or not, and never be happy with the coverings of your settee – perhaps send it to the attics and never sit upon it again – and that should be such a shame because the colors are truly remarkable – all because of the delay to your renovations. And then you might even have wished that we had not waged war against Napoleon – a short man for a general – and that all our soldiers would have been kicking their heels at home with nothing to do but go to Brighton, and we could not have that at all. Or have you in the hedgerows for that matter – for how would you cope with your sweet baby? And then I thought of how much you have always done for me, always ensuring that mother gets her eggs the way she likes them, and serving my favorite cherry cake with tea. And I thought of Jane’s room sitting empty all this time – for she is forever increasing and bearing children and never able to visit – and how close you two have always been, ever since you were small. I know she would like you to have her room in your time of need. And mother would love to have a baby in the house again, wouldn’t you mother? A baby. In the house."

"Where is the baby?" asked Mrs Bates, peering around the room through her thick spectacles.

"The baby is in the nursery now, mother," said Miss Bates, "But she will soon be living with Miss – Mrs Knightley in Jane’s old room. I have just invited them to stay with us until Donwell Abbey is ready for them to move in. Won’t that be delightful? We shall have such a lovely time sitting and reading over all of Jane’s letters and having tea and cakes. And we shall dust off the old pianoforte for, though Miss – Mrs Knightley does not play near so well as Jane, it will be lovely to have music in the house again . . ."

Emma stared at Miss Bates, her mouth open, her eyes bulging.

"My dear," whispered Mr Knightley. "I think it best that you close your mouth, take a deep breath, and thank Miss Bates for her kind offer."

"But I cannot agree to live there – in that little house – with them."

"You can and you will," said Knightly firmly. "Wherever could you find a better neighbor than Miss Bates? She, who has so little, has offered you all that she can possibly do in such generosity of spirit it would be cruel and unfeeling to reject her kind offer."

Emma knew that if she said anything but yes, her husband would think it was badly done indeed. There was no way out. She turned to Miss Bates, and as soon as that lady stopped talking to take a breath, she interrupted her and thanked her for her kind offer in as steady a voice as she could muster.

The next morning, Emma receivd a letter from Mrs. Bennet confirming their arrival date in less than two weeks. She sighed to herself wondering how she was to get everything ready in time. The business of getting the house in order for the tenants, getting her own things in order for removal to Donwell, and caring for her darling little Elizabeth was almost more than she could manage. There was so much to be done, she was forever running from one end of the house to the other supervising the servants and making sure everything was done propery. She was even tempted once or twice to scrub or polish something herself, but thankfully she never had to resort to such measures and she never spoke of those moments to anyone.

She was relieved to have everything done at the end of the two weeks, but her pleasure was somewhat tempered by the prospect of residing with the Bateses for another six weeks. At last, the Bennets were comfortably ensconced at Hartfield, and Emma and Elizabeth not so comfortably ensconced at the Bates house. Emma tried not to reflect on how this had all come about.

~

Mr Knightley called at the Bates residence to visit his wife and daughter every day, but it was not enough to counteract living with the ladies, in Emma’s opinion. Why should she have to suffer hearing of Jane Churchill’s four children to her one? Besides, the rooms (all of them) were cluttered with knickknacks and items that seemed incongruous with the state of poverty the Bates’ lived in, Mrs Bates reeked of an odor Emma could only describe as ‘old,’ and Miss Bates was, as usual, a non-stop prattlebox.

"Steady on, Emma," her husband encouraged her when she opened her mouth to complain. "The renovations to Donwell are coming along, the Bennet ladies are quite happy at Hartfield, as you saw when you visited them there -- for which I am very proud of you."

Emma tried to think of something sarcastic to say, but the baby, who had somehow ended up in Mrs Bates’ lap, was playing with her lace cap, and Emma did not want her child smelling ‘old’ the rest of the day. She rescued her daughter and handed her to her father.

"Shall we take a walk, my dear?" she sweetly suggested. He knew that tone, and her arch look, and would have protested, but Miss Bates thought it an excellent idea, and hastened to find Emma’s cloak and bonnet.

When they were outside, Emma waited until they had wandered through Highbury and were in the woods beyond the town before she launched into a tirade.

"I must move from the Bates’ home immediately! Mrs Bates leaves papers all over the place, there is no room for my belongings and no space to hang up my gowns, I cannot have the dogs there, and if I hear the name Jane Churchill one more time, I shall scream!"

The fact that she was screaming now was not lost on Knightley. Ellie began to cry, and all he could do was take them both into his arms and comfort them as best he could.

"Now, Emma dear, think of the positive side of living with the Bates’."

"What?" she asked with an inelegant sniff as she burrowed her way deeper into his arms. She had a keen sense of smell, and one of the ones she liked best was eau de Knightley – her husband always smelled of bay rum. "I mean, what positive side? You have never…" Emma had an idea.

She dragged her husband back to the Bates residence and when Miss Bates had them settled in the parlor, Emma began a demonstration of just what living there was like.

"Tell me about Mrs. Churchill’s two sets of twins, Miss Bates?" she asked sweetly.

"Oh, Jane’s children are remarkable! So clever, yes, yes," that lady replied, her cap nodding with her head. "Mercy me, but they are clever children. One little boy, you know, so that Mr. Churchill has his heir," she said, giving Mr. Knightley a sly look. "And his twin sister, so lovely. Yes, lovely, lovely, she is going to catch some attention when she is grown."

Now her look settled on Ellie, raising Emma’s ire. And Mr. Knightley’s, too, did she but know it. He thought no one matched Miss Elizabeth Knightley in looks or intelligence.

"And the other girls?" Emma innocently (or not so innocently) queried. "They are newly born, are they not?"

"Yes, yes, less than three months old. But still so darling in their own way. And such quiet, good-natured babies who give their mother no trouble at all."

Emma rolled her eyes as she tried to steady a squirming, fussing Elizabeth on her lap. She thought it typical that Miss Bates would take her niece’s word for their behavior, for as far as she knew, neither elder Bates lady had seen the younger twins.

"And you still wish me to live here?" Emma said to her husband as she walked him later to the door.

"I sympathize, my darling, I do. But until Donwell is ready…" he apologized. Emma was well and truly stuck with the Bateses for the time being.

She did take some solace in being able to visit her friends in the neighborhood, and took every opportunity she could to spend time away from the Bateses. However, it was very difficult for Emma to call on the Bennets. She could scarcely tolerate seeing them enjoying her spacious house and walking in her gardens. It was too much to bear! And, wherever Emma called, she was bombarded with questions about her situation. And comments.

"It is a shame," said Mrs. Elton, during one of Emma's visits, "that you and Elizabeth have to stay with the Bateses, but I suppose the extra rent for the fortnight will help pay for the renovations at Donwell. If only I had known sooner that the two of you would be . . . displaced, I would have offered to keep you here myself. My friends do say I am quite charitable, as befits the wife of a country parson, you know. And, they tell me, I make an excellent hostess."

"You are too kind, I am sure, Mrs. Weston," said Emma with as much equanimity as she could muster.

"I am sure you are very eager to finally move inton Donwell Abbey, as it is a far superior place, my dear Mrs. Knightley," Mrs. Elton insisted. "Quite superior even to Maple Grove, and you know how I feel about my brother Mr. Suckling’s home. I pride myself that only Blenheim, Chatsworth, Pemberley and a scant handful of other great houses could rival Maple Grove. Oh, and Donwell, of course."

Emma ignored her slip, smoothed down the front of her black mourning cape and said she must be moving on, that she was to call on Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Martin that same morning. Her subsequent visits were much more pleasant, which was one of the reasons she had called on Mrs. Elton first to get that visit out of the way.

Her visits with Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Martin restored much of Emma's good humour. Emma's Elizabeth loved to play with both Mrs. Weston's Emily and Mrs. Martin's Little Emma. As pleasant as the visits were, they had to come to an end. She stayed to late at the Martin home, Harriet had felt compelled to invite them to remain to dine. It was only then that Emma realized she had overstayed her welcome, and though the invitation to stay was tempting, Mr. Knightley had promised Miss Bates that they would both be joining her and her mother for dinner. The prospect of returning to her temporary residence was a little disheartening to Emma, but she dutifully scooped up Elizaabeth and headed back 'home.'

And so passed the first few weeks of Emma's stay with the Bates home. Yet, before long, Emma had to admit that the two ladies had become quite attached to both of them, especially Elizabeth; and she grudgingly had to admit that Elizabeth seemed to like them both as well. As she observed the increased care and affection with which Mrs. Bates treated Elizabeth, Emma became less concerned about her baby smelling 'old.' For being an old widow and a spinster, the ladies actually seemed quite knowledgeable about babies and were of some help to Emma during this time in caring for Elizabeth.

It happened one day that Emma found herself alone in the parlour. Miss Bates, who had been writing a letter to Dear Mrs. Churchill had been called away for a moment to tend to her mother. Emma seized upon the opportunity to accidentally glance at Mrs. Bates' unfinished letter and was truly astonished by what she read. Miss Bates had nothing but praise for both herself and Elizabeth. Indeed, in her letter, Miss Bates spoke as highly of her houseguests to Jane as she had spoken of Jane and her children to Emma. Emma could not help smiling widely before resuming her seat just in time before Miss Bates re-entered the room.

By the end of her time with the Bates, Emma had learned to appreciate what they had to offer both her and her daughter. She was grateful for the opportunity to get to know them in a way she had never been able to do before, even though she'd lived so close to them for her entire life. Nevertheless, she was exceedingly pleased when she finally moved into Donwell Abbey. All of the problems she had faced over the past few months were now behind her, having been resolved happily.

Emma was sitting with Elizabeth on the bright pink blanket one of the Bennet girls had crocheted for her with her two dogs romping nearby, enjoying the feeling of being at home, when Knightley walked out to inform them that they had company. Emma immediately arose, scooping up Elizabeth, and walked with him towards the house, the dogs following at their heels. She was a little vexed by his stubborn refusal to tell her who had called. At last she entered the drawing room to find all the Bennet Girls, as well as her friends and neighbors standing around a large cake. As soon as they saw her, they cried out in unison, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

And it was a Happy Birthday. It was a day that marked a new beginning in her life. She had the man she loved and her darling daughter, a new home, and a fresh start. And she knew she would always be surrounded by her friends, no matter how far she moved away.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEN & BEST OF LUCK!



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