Car crash again! : D

Present

"Mr. Knightley!" Emma ran out of the sitting room to receive Mr. Knightley when from the window seeing him approaching the house. She was extremely handsome today in her new rose pink silk satin dress. Radiant!

"Emma!" Mr. Knightley looked her up and down with appreciation and joy, but didn't let a word of praise come out of his mouth.

Emma stood in his way, reaching out her hand. "What present do you have for me this year?"

"Present, what Present?" asked Mr. Knightley innocently.

Emma stiffened, staring at him incredibly for a moment before looking down with an obvious disappointment, "Come in please, dinner is about served." She turned and led the way in without further querying.

Mr. Knightley followed her with a mysterious smile, "I have news for you, Emma."

"What is it?" asked Emma nonchalantly.

"You look indifferent. I thought you like news?"

Emma stopped and made him a tolerably cheerful smile, "Yes, I do. What news do you have?"

"You are going to town tomorrow, visiting Isabella and the children, and shopping too."

"What? Who is going to town?" puzzled Emma.

"You, Miss Woodhouse!"

"I don't know I'm going to town?"

"So I'm telling you now." smiled Mr. Knightley archly.

"But why...who...my father..."Emma looked totally bewildered.

"I asked your father, and he agreed."

Emma at first disbelieved, "Really? You're not teasing me?"

"When have I ever?"

Mr. Knightley's sincere smile reassured Emma that he was not kidding, "Oh, Mr. Knightley, you're the kindest man in the world, thank you so much!" Emma capered like a little girl. She was sure she would hug him if she could go back ten years.

"Hush Emma, the Mistress shouldn't scare her guests."

Emma covered her mouth and asked eagerly again, "Will you go with me?"

"Surely I will. Your father only agreed when I promised to watch you over and keep you safe."

Emma capered again. "So this is your present for my birthday?" She didn't forget her deepest disappointment just now, questioning him with mock vexation.

"No, I'll buy you a present once we get to town." smiled Mr. Knightley.

Emma covered her mouth again to prevent letting out another cheerful cry. She hadn't been expecting something so much like this for years.

"Come, you shouldn't keep your guests waiting long." He offered his arm, sharing her unconcealed joy delightfully.

Mr. Knightley planned they should departure in late afternoon and arrive in Landon right before sundown, after staying a night at Brunswick Square, and drive back at the same time. Thus Mr. Woodhouse would not be left alone for too long. Emma was glad with the arrangement. Actually she could only be satisfied when Mrs. and Miss Bates, Mrs. Goddard had been invited to come to dine and play backgammon with her father in the evening, and Harriet had been asked to visit tomorrow morning and accompany her father on breakfast.

When Mr. Woodhouse was tolerably consoled, Emma ran to Mr. Knightley who has been waiting for her out of the front door.

"To the best of my knowledge, I'm not aware of your possessing a chaise?" Emma was surprised when seeing Mr. Knightley standing by a customized, exquisite one horse chaise instead of his modest, heavy carriage.

"It just arrived two days ago. And I took the liberty of resolving you will like this one better."

"Indeed I do." Emma cried and climbed cheerily into the chaise with Mr. Knightley's help, turning from side to side admiring the not big, but elegantly adorned place and the unobstructed view in front of the passenger seats.

"Thank you!" Emma smiled at Mr. Knightley when he took his seat next to her and pulled the rein.

"My pleasure."

It was an extremely fine day in October for travelling outdoor. A few snow-white, imaginatively shaped clouds embellished the cerulean sky while the cooling breezes brushed Emma's cheeks and played with locks of her hair loosened from ears. Autumn was no doubt the finest season in England. The colorful fields stretching to the horizon was like an enormous gorgeous painting. Oh no, no artificial works could be on a par with the magnificent nature, not even the famed master pieces.

Emma made no effort to dissemble her high spirits. She kept asking Mr. Knightley everything coming to her eyes or her mind just like what she had constantly done for years when she was a little girl. And Mr. Knightley showed not a tiny impatience at all. On the contrary, he had never found this route this attractive until today even though he had traveled on it back and forth countless times. He enjoyed the magnificent views, the brisk fresh air, the comfortable tete a tete and his happy, lovely companion. This short journey could be a little longer, better never came to the end.

But the town was drawing close step by step. They were about half the way when Mr. Knightley considered taking a break and looked around for a fit place. And all of a sudden, beyond the wildest expectation, a black robust stallion dashed abruptly out of nowhere and scared their docile mare to rear violently.

"Emma!" Instinctively, with an alarmed cry, Mr. Knightley covered Emma's body and wrapped her head with his hands when the light chaise was overturned.

They were thrown out of the seats when the frightened mare kept rearing. Mr. Knightley fell heavily down on the ground and Emma fell on him. "Emma, are you alright? Did you get hurt?" He got up immediately and knelt to help Emma up.

"No, I didn't. Did I hurt you?" She reached out one hand to examine his shoulder and arm.

"Make some movements, let me see if you are injured." asked Mr. Knightley anxiously.

"I don't think so." She took Mr. Knightley's hand and tried to stand up, but only let out a restrained cry.

"Where? Where is it?"

"The ankle." Emma sat back on the ground, stretching out her right leg.

Mr. Knightley took her foot and observed it carefully. The ankle had swollen up, with a bad abrasion on the skin.

"Forgive me." Without her response he took off her shoe, with a pause, her stocking too. He didn't look up to see her countenance while he himself was blushing. He acted quickly pulling out his handkerchief, folding it to a square and placing it on the wound, taking off his cravat and enwinding it around the handkerchief as a bandage.

He exhaled when the shoe was put on again, feeling guilty about not totally ignoring the subtle feeling when touching the bare skin of her delicate foot, although he intended to.

"We'd better set off now. You need a doctor."

"I'm afraid there's an obstacle to it." observed Emma playfully, looking over his shoulder.

"What?" Mr. Knightley swirled around and was frozen at what he saw. Two horses had gone without a trace. The disassembled chaise was stuck between two stout tree trunks with one wheel scattering far away. Once checking his pocket watch, Mr. Knightley turned extremely worried.

"I'm terribly sorry, Emma." said he anxiously.

"It's very bad?"

"Both the last stagecoach and post carriage have passed us minutes ago. The only chance left to us is someone may travel late which unlikely happens often."

"We can walk, only a few miles."

"No, you cannot walk eight feet with a twisted ankle, let alone miles. It's half way beyond."

"Then what's the worst?"

"We may stay a night here, at the roadside."

"Will you be with me?"

"What are you talking about?" frowned Mr. Knightley, "Do you think at any time I will leave you alone?"

"Then everything will be fine, if you're here." Emma laughed at his discomfiture.

"I appreciate your trust, Emma. But I may ruin your confidence in me this time."

"No, you will not. And I will not." Emma insisted.

"And your father's too. I don't know how badly he will be shocked once he acquaints with the accident."

"We better don't tell him. I'll align with Isabella and make up something for it."

"Isabella will worry too. I wrote to John that we'll be there tonight."

"Oh, yes." Emma was a little depressed. "They better think we're only delayed by something at home and didn't make the go. And when we do arrive tomorrow morning, they won't be too alarmed on seeing both of us safe and sound."

Mr. Knightley listened to her carefully and concluded softly, "You never worry for your own sake, Emma."

"I don't need to. You are all worrying about me, aren't you?" smiled Emma.

"Wait for me a minute." He touched her hair and rose to his feet, walking to the damaged chaise.

Emma was puzzled when seeing Mr. Knightley struggling with the remains, "What are you doing, Mr. Knightley?"

"Almost there. Be patient."

Finally Mr. Knightley dismantled the other wheel and pulled the wheelless chaise to an open space. "You can't sit on the ground the whole night." He held her carefully and carried her to the tolerable shelter.

And when Emma was well seated, she found she was witnessing a splendid, breathtaking sunset. It's a wide open field in front of them. Not a tiny object stained the immense burning backdrop. Emma gaped, gazing obsessively westward. "Mr. Knightley, can you believe it? Is it real?"

"Yes Emma, it's real. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Beautiful? It's splendid!" murmured Emma dreamily.

Not a word was exchanged between the two for the next few minutes. Both of them were thoroughly absorbed in the grand natural Landscape.

"Oh, it's darkening! The sun is submerging. Can you stop it, Mr. Knightley?"

"My dearest Emma, my name is George Knightley, not Helios…"

"Then can we see it again?"

"I believe so."

"When?"

"Maybe tomorrow, on our way back to Hartfield if we're lucky enough to have a same sunny day. But Emma, England is the most beautiful place in the world, there're a great many stunning landscapes out there waiting for you to explore."

"Will you take me to see them then?"

Mr. Knightley looked at her in the dimness, "Yes Emma, I will."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Thank you Mr. Knightley." Emma grinned lovely. "Then could you now tell me some of them? Let me see where we can go first.

Thanks to Emma's lacking experience of traveling, Mr. Knightley's descriptions satisfied her fancies and longings quite well even though he could hardly be admitted as a good story teller.

"Look, Emma, a shooting star!"

"Where? Oh, I missed it."

"Don't worry. There will be another one, or more. They say your wish will come true if you make it to the shooting stars. Do you have any wish?"

"Of course, I have a lot."

"May I know what they are?"

"No, they will not come true if I say them out loud."

"All right," Mr. Knightley raised his eye brow, "Then, is any of them about me?"

"I won't tell you, it's a secret."

A secret about me? A chill wind blew his swelling unrealistic thoughts away. Taking a glance at Emma, he took off his tweed tail and tried to put it on her shoulder."

"No, Mr. Knightley, I'm not feeling cold." She moved back to avoid it.

He grasped her hands, "Emma, your hands are ice-cold while mine are warm. Be good, put it on."

"But you will catch a cold with only a shirt."

"I will not. You know my constitution is always very good. Besides, if one of us must catch a cold, I'd much rather it was me than you. I have been feeling extremely guilty for putting you in this situation. I cannot bear anything hurting you further."

"It's not your fault, Mr. Knightley."

"No, I didn't scare the horse. I didn't turn the chaise over. But you would never get into this trouble without me. Besides, even I have nothing to do with the accident, it's my duty to take care of you, and I have promised it to your father. So put it on, Emma, for my sake."

"If so, you may take my shawl."

"A Mr. Knightley with a shawl?" He laughed, "It's too funny to ever exist." He wrapped the shawl back around her shoulder tightly outside his tail. "Take a nap now, Emma, you must be tired."

'But you…"

"I'm fine. I promise I will tell you once I feel cold."

Emma nodded finally and closed her eyes. Indeed she was tired after a whole day's excitement.

Not sure how long she had slept. She felt she was lying in a fruitful orchard with the pleasant scent of apple trees surrounding and comforting her. It was a beautiful day in the middle of autumn, sunny and warm.

But why did winter come so soon? The weather changed too rapidly for her to wrap herself up or light a fire. She curled up and rolled over trying to keep herself warm, but it just turned colder and colder. Where's my father? She missed his great fire so much!

"Emma, Emma, wake up!" She was awakened by a familiar voice, but not her father's.

"Emma, I'm going to hold you. I don't want you to catch pneumonia or anything worse." He reached out his arms while speaking.

Oh yes, a wide chest! A memory from childhood told her it meant being warm and safe. She grabbed his fabric eagerly and climbed into his arms, shaking too fiercely to utter a word.

He held her tightly on his lap, rubbing her back to help her get warm. After a few minutes Emma at last stopped shaking, resting her head on his shoulder, breathing quietly.

"Feel better?"

"Much better."

"I'm so sorry, Emma." He tightened his hold, feeling terribly bad.

"I'm very well, Mr. Knightley. Don't be sorry."

"You are not well, Emma, not even close. You ankle is injured. You have no water, no food, no bed to sleep in. And you almost froze to death just now…"

"The twist is not serious. It will heal in a few days. One night without food and bed will not kill me. As to the cold, I don't feel it at all now. Besides, the trip was so wonderful, the fields, the sunset, the starry sky...I have never been so happy for years like today."

Mr. Knightley was cheered up a little by Emma's energetic speech, "Thank you, Emma."

"Thank me, for what?"

"For your goodness, and generosity. I can't imagine how many complaints I would receive and how much more I would be suffering if this accident happens to some other young lady instead of you." Mr Knightley said softly, pressing his cheek on her hair.

"Have you... Have you ever traveled with other young ladies?"

"I thought you would say you are more used to my lectures and scoldings". Mr Knightley teased her.

"Don't shift the topic."

"Alright, Yes. But it's inevitable when you travel around, isn't it?"

"I mean... alone."

"Alone?" Mr. Knightley looked down at her, but it's too dark to acquire any look. "Yes…once."

Emma asked no further, falling in a contemplative silence. But Mr. Knightley felt uneasy to stop here.

"It's not like what we do, Emma. We were in a friend's house. She received a letter and was obliged to go home the next day. I happened to go the same time, so I was assigned to escort her home."

Emma made no comment.

Mr. Knoghtley licked his lips. "We set off in the morning and arrived in the afternoon."

"Then she invited you to dinner."

"Yes… it's rude to reject."

"And you stayed the night in her house after dinner."

Mr. knightley gasped, "Yes… but I am acquainted with two of her brothers too."

"You never stayed at Hartfield." Emma mumbled after a pause.

"Emma, I can't fabricate an excuse to stay at Hartfield?"

Emma became silent again, seemingly losing all her previous spirits.

"Emma," Mr. Knightley stroked her hair gently, "talk to me."

But to his surprise, instead of talking, Emma began to move.

"What are you doing?"

"Get back to my seat."

"It's three o'clock in the morning Emma. You will shiver again in one minute."

"I will not. I'm awake now, I can handle the cold." She struggled to free herself.

"Emma," Mr. Knightley considered his words, "are you cross with me?"

"I'm not. Let go of me."

Mr. Knightley bit his lip, kept his holding for a moment longer but at last obeyed her, looking at her in the moonlight when she declared she was tired and turned to give him only a back.

Unsurprisingly, Emma began to shiver involuntarily soon after.

"Emma please, come back."

She made no response.

"You are shaking, you will catch a terrible cold or worse."

"I won't. Shaking doesn't mean I'm feeling cold."

Mr. Knightley rolled his eyes. "But I am, Emma, could you please keep me warm?"

Far beyond his expectation, instead of giving up being stubborn, Emma began to take off his coat.

"Emma!" cried Mr. Knightley helplessly, ignoring all her protests and forcing her back on his lap.

After struggling fruitlessly a little while, Emma finally quieted down. She was cross with him, although she didn't exactly know what for. But she found his arms were a much more comfortable place to sleep in even than her own bed and she hated to be parted from them.

"Emma, you haven't asked me what she is like." Mr. Knightley resumed the topic.

"Pretty, of course."

"Well, yes… But if you have seen her, you would suspect she is one of the cousins of Mrs. Elton's."

To his great satisfaction, Emma began to giggle, "I pity you, Mr. Knightley, traveling alone with a Mrs. Elton." She kept giggling like a happy bird.

"So you see, I was pitiful, not enjoying."

Emma shifted in his arms to make herself feel more comfortable and then signed contently.

"You should sleep now, Emma."

"All right, good night, Mr. Knightley."

"Good night, Emma."

(Ten minutes later…)

"Are you still awake?"

"Yes, I can't sleep."

"What's in your mind?"

"...When did you last time hold me?"

"A dozen years ago at least I believe."

"Did you often rock me to sleep when I was a baby?"

"Yes, very often."

"Could you do it again now?"

"Certainly! I can sing you a lullaby too if you wish." He smiled and began rocking her gently, "Have a rest, Emma. The day will dawn soon."

Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley were quite shocked when a gimpy Emma and a whiskered Mr. Knightley appeared at their door. And it was a great loss to the children that they had no chance to see their dearest Aunt Emma and Uncle George at this early hour.

Mr. Knightley took Isabella's blame very gracefully as he heartily believed he deserved it. But John's knowing smirk was so annoying so he ate up his serving of breakfast too as revenge.

Dr. Wingfield was sent for immediately after breakfast and his diagnosis eased Mr. Knightley's nerves greatly.

After a great sleep and two happy hours with the children, it's time for them to go. Emma repeated again that their father should never be informed of the knowledge before being carried by Mr. Knightley into John's carriage.

It's a roomy coach, big enough for the whole family. Emma sat facing forward when Mr. Knightley took the opposite seat.

For the first half an hour there was no conversation at all between the two. It's very odd due to their never wanting of topics. But it's much odder that both of them didn't feel odd. Emma was gazing out of the window enjoying the terrible town street scenes while Mr. Knightley was trying to figure out how many stitches there were on the hem of her petticoat.

"Emma," When the coach was out of the town, Mr. Knightley finally realized he had better choice to amuse himself, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking…I'm thinking of your chaise."

"My chaise? Why did you think about a chaise?"

"It arrived just two days ago, travelled only eight miles, and then…gone. What a pity!"

"Never mind. You know me well. I hardly need a carriage. Bessie is enough for me."

"Honestly, I quite like the chaise, light, beautiful, moving fast."

"I will order another one. It won't take a fortnight if I urge them a little bi…" Mr. Knightley stopped short at Emma's staring at him, turning slightly red. "I…"

An unexpected emergency spared him an embarrassing excuse. The horses whinnied while the coach screeched to an abrupt halt. With a short scream, Emma was thrown out of the seat and flew forward. And when everything settled down, Emma found she was sitting on Mr. Knightley's lap again.

She blushed and tried to stand up, "I'm sorry."

Instead of helping her get back to her seat, Mr. Knightley wrapped his arms around her back.

"I'm not feeling cold now, Mr. Knightley."

"We were talking about the chaise, right?"

"Yes! Why?"

"Will you travel with me again if I buy a new chaise?"

Emma frowned, "You said you will take me to see the landscapes of England, will you keep your word?"

"I'd like to, but…"

"But what?" Emma tensed up.

"It's not socially acceptable for a pretty young lady to travel alone frequently with a middle-aged bachelor." He looked very innocent when excusing himself.

"Is there any way to make it proper then?"

"Yes, I know a way that can meet the requirement perfectly."

"Then, problem solved." grinned Emma.

Oh yeah! Emma agreed! But Emma's playfulness tortured him greatly. "Emma, you do know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Will your way make it proper too if I want you to rock me to sleep every day?" asked Emma softly.

"Yes, I heartily believe so." He inhaled deeply, pulling her closer and beginning to rock her.

"There's another thing I feel guilty about."

"What's that?"

"I didn't buy you a present. I think the twenty first birthday is a little different from others."

She sat up straight and cupped his cheeks, "Don't you think, Mr. Knightley, you are the best, specialest present I could ever have for my twenty first birthday?"

"You are making me the happiest man in the world by thinking so, my Emma." He leaned forward to kiss her…

FIN

Thank you for reading! Please leave your thoughts on this one, much appreciated!