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"I am ready," said Emma, "whenever I am wanted."
"Whom are you going to dance with?" asked Mr. Knightley.
She hesitated a moment and then replied, "With you, if you will ask me."
Mr. Knightley took Emma's hand. She expected him to use his usual teasing voice but he was surprisingly earnest as he said, "Miss Woodhouse, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?"
She noticed the serious expression on his face, and was momentarily confused, but replied lightheartedly, "Of course, it would be my pleasure, Mr. Knightley".
He kept hold of her hand as he led her toward the lines of couples forming up for the dance. She looked sideways at him, but he remained serious and looked straight ahead. Was he displeased with her? Had she offended him by essentially asking him to dance? Maybe he did not wish to dance again but felt obliged to ask her?
They turned to face one another as the strains of music began. She smiled as she curtseyed and was relieved that he returned her smile as he bowed. He must not be too angry, then. She felt free to speak. When the steps of the dance allowed them some time next to one another she said quietly, "Mr. Knightley, you are suddenly very serious. Are you unhappy with me? I am sorry, did you not wish to dance?"
"No, Emma, I am perfectly happy with you. And I am delighted to be dancing with you. I am.... merely trying to remember all the steps of this particular dance." The dance required him to turn away at this point so she could not see his face. She felt sure his last words were not what he really meant - he was obviously an excellent and confident dancer. In any case, she was relieved that he was not upset with her.
She tried to encourage his smiles by leaving him in no doubt that she was enjoying the dance. And he gradually began to smile more freely himself. They danced together with joy and energy.
She began to consider why she should care so much that Mr. Knightley was pleased with her? Why did she feel so happy dancing with him? Why was she so relieved that Mr. Knightley was dancing with her and not with Harriet again, or worse, with Jane Fairfax? Why did she feel so ... strange... but in such a good way... when she felt Mr. Knightley's strong arm around her waist? And when he took her hands and looked into her eyes with a smile on his face did she wish they did not have to let go and move on a moment later?
They were about half-way down the set when the truth came to her - as wonderful and frightening as it was. She was in love with Mr. Knightley! This was love, not the vague feelings she had once harboured towards Mr. Churchill. She knew suddenly and completely that she could never be parted from him - could never marry anyone else - could never see him marry another. How had she been so blind? She gasped.
Mr. Knightley instantly looked towards her. "Are you unwell, Emma?"
"No... no, I am very well." Thankfully the dance called for her to turn away so she had a moment to compose herself.
Now it was Emma's turn to be serious. It took her another full rotation down the set before she dared glance at Mr. Knightley. She found him looking at her with concern. She managed a small smile to try to reassure him but when he smiled back at her she was caught. She could not look away from him. She never wanted to look away from his smiling face. She nearly stopped dancing entirely and only at the last minute did she move in the right direction. The woman standing next to her had to swerve to avoid her.
"Are you sure you are well, Emma? It is not like you to miss a step."
Emma blushed in embarrassment and avoided Mr. Knightley's questioning gaze. "I assure you I am very well." His hand was on her waist again as they moved in a circle together and she felt she had never been as well in her entire life but she didn't know what to say, where to look.
"Truly, I am concerned. You seemed to be enjoying the dance but now you have grown very serious."
"I... I have just realized something I should have known long ago but..." She trailed off and then she made another terrible realization. She loved Mr. Knightley, yes, but what if he did not love her? What if he saw her merely as his friend. What if he loved someone else... Mrs. Weston was certain he was in love with Jane Fairfax. How could she bear seeing him marry Jane Fairfax? She looked at him in panic.
"What is it? Is it something about your father?"
"No, no, let us finish this dance - I am distracted, and am not being a very good partner. You must wish you had asked someone else."
"I wish to dance with you and no one else," he said quietly but with fervour. She again looked up at him in surprise. "But," he continued, "Perhaps you are thinking you would have preferred to dance with Mr. Frank Churchill."
"No," she whispered and shook her head. "I do not wish that." They were at a point in the dance where they were holding both hands and facing each other while other couples turned about them.
The rest of the room seemed to fade away and and she just stood and looked at Mr. Knightley. What did he mean? He also seemed to be transfixed and gazed intensely at her, with a question in his eyes. They stood so long like that, who were so used to communicating much with a few words or glances, realisation slowly dawning on both of them, that one of the couples actually collided with them.
Mr. Knightley apologized sheepishly, claiming to be out of practice and they both attended rather carefully to the mechanics of the remainder of the dance.
It being finally over he kept hold of her hand and led her towards an open door, ostensibly to get some fresh air. She clung to his hand, out of breath, her heart pounding.
"Emma, my dearest Emma," he said in a low voice. "Please... you must allow me to ask... do you not have feelings for Mr. Frank Churchill?"
"No," she shook her head. "At one time I thought I did but it was not love, it never was. Now I see that." He breathed a sigh of relief. He was close enough to her that she could feel his breath on her forehead. "But now I must ask you," she said in agitation, "Please, please tell me you are not in love with Jane Fairfax or I shall surely die!"
He smiled, "No, I already told you I didn't love her. There is only one woman I could ever love." He reached to move a strand of hair that had fallen in her face while they were dancing. "I love you, my dearest Emma. All I ask is that you tell me I may someday have a chance to win you."
"Mr. Knightley my heart is already yours. I just didn't know it until now." She squeezed his hands. If there hadn't been such a crowd of people, she would have embraced him with joy and relief right then and there. But she could hear the harsh tones of Mrs. Elton's voice and didn't want to give her reason to gossip.
Mr. Knightley whispered, "Let us continue this conversation again very soon. If I am not mistaken, I hear the music beginning. With whom shall you dance?"
This time she did not hesitate. "With you, if you will ask me."