Northanger Abbey

‘I dare say you’re not sorry about that,’ she said coquettishly. ‘There’s nowhere like Edinburgh at this time of year. Anywhere else would feel dull, don’t you think?’

He caught Cat’s eye momentarily. ‘Since everyone worth spending time with is here, I’m bound to agree with you.’ He gave Susie another courtly nod.

By now, Martha and her friend had introduced themselves to Ellie and invited her to join them. ‘Plenty of wine to go round,’ Martha said, pouring Ellie a glass in spite of her protestations that all she wanted was water.

Now, at last, having fulfilled the obligations of good manners, Henry turned his attention to Cat. Before he could say anything, however, the dance ended and the caller invited the gentlemen to take their partners for the Military Two-Step. Henry raised his eyebrows. ‘Did we get that far with Fiona?’

Cat made the effort of recall. ‘Heel and toe, and heel and toe and forward, two, three? Is that the one?’

‘Splendid. Well done, Cat.’ He extended a hand to her. ‘Shall we?’

But before she could slip her fingers into his waiting grasp, a familiar loud voice boomed in her ear and a hot, beefy hand snatched hers. ‘Not so fast, mate.’

It was John Thorpe, back from the card table at precisely the wrong moment. He glowered at Henry, who gave Cat an enquiring look. Before she could say anything, John continued as he had begun. ‘She’s with me, buster.’ He moved towards the dance floor, presuming that Cat would follow. And she did, to avoid the embarrassment of being dragged off her chair.

Henry stepped to one side, a look of concern on his face. ‘Are you OK with that?’

‘I said I would dance with him, that’s all,’ Cat said over her shoulder, uncertain whether he had heard her or not.

Once they were on the dance floor John acted as if nothing untoward had happened. He made a perfunctory apology for keeping her waiting, then launched into a rambling account of the polo ponies, cars and dogs of the men he’d been playing poker with. Whenever the configuration of the dance made it possible, Cat couldn’t help but gaze longingly towards the part of the room where she’d left Henry. But she could see not a sign of him. Nor could she see Bella and her brother. She felt cut off from everyone she cared about, abandoned into the custody of a man who seemed to disregard everyone but himself.

As soon as the dance was over, she thanked him then scuttled back to the table, where Martha and her friend were still deep in conversation with Ellie Tilney. But Henry was nowhere to be seen. There was some consolation to be had, however, for Martha introduced her to Ellie then swapped seats so the two young women could chat to each other. In the absence of Ellie’s brother, there was nobody Cat was happier to talk to.

Ellie, as Cat had previously noted from her Facebook profile, had striking good looks, sharing the same marble-white skin and unfathomable leonine eyes as her brother. Her dark blonde hair flowed back in waves from a widow’s peak, framing her delicate features. She was more formal than Bella and her sisters, more restrained in her style and conversation, and had none of their flirtatiousness towards the young men who eyed them up as they promenaded past, looking for partners. But Cat sensed an interesting personality behind that reserve and desperately wanted to know her better, suspecting they might well become friends irrespective of Henry. However, since they knew almost nothing about each other and since Cat was too proud to enquire as to the whereabouts of her brother, they struggled to find enough in common to trigger a close conversation. Once they had worked their way through the charms of Edinburgh – its architecture, its museums and galleries, and its festivals – neither girl seemed to know what to talk about next.

Before their constraint became uncomfortable, they were swooped on by Bella, who threw herself on the chair next to Cat and exclaimed, ‘There you are. At last. I’ve been scouring the dance floor for you for ages. You totally missed the Dashing White Sergeant, and I was buzzing for you to make up a threesome with me and Jamie.’

Cat’s face fell under her friend’s attack. ‘I’m sorry. I looked, but I couldn’t even see you.’

James arrived just in time to take a gentle punch in the arm from Bella. ‘I told your hopeless brother to go and look for you but he wouldn’t leave my side. Honestly, Cat, men are so lazy.’

‘It wouldn’t have done any good if I’d found Cat only to mislay you,’ James said in his defence.

Bella rolled her eyes. ‘Hopeless.’

Cat leaned back in her seat so she could include Ellie in the conversation. But her new friend was already on her feet. ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I promised my father I’d meet him in the supper room. It was lovely to meet you.’ And she bowed with curious formality before backing away and making for the exit.

‘Who on earth was that?’ Bella asked. ‘She acts like she’s in Pride and Prejudice.’

‘That’s Henry Tilney’s sister, Ellie.’ Cat stared after the disappearing figure. There was something about Ellie, something out of time and out of style. Like there would be if you were a two-hundred-year-old vampire, she thought with a mixture of dread and delight.

‘Is he here?’ Bella looked around eagerly. ‘Is he half as good looking as she is? Where is the all-conquering brother? Point him out to me, I’m totally dying to see him.’

‘What are you both on about?’ James asked.

‘Honestly, you men talk about women gossiping, but you’re just as bad. Actually, no, you’re worse. You’re like little old women, you put your heads together and gossip, gossip, gossip about cars and women and sport. Well, Jamie, this is our little secret and we’re not sharing.’ Bella prodded him in the chest to drive home her point.

James laughed. ‘You’re just trying to hide the fact that you’ve got nothing important to say.’

‘Cheeky boy,’ Bella complained. ‘Honestly, Cat, you’ve done an atrocious job of bringing up Jamie. He has no idea at all of how to treat a woman. You’d better stop eavesdropping, Master Jamie, or you might hear something you don’t want to.’

The banter continued between Jamie and Bella, freeing Cat from any responsibility to contribute. She was grateful that the subject of Henry had been sidetracked, though there was a tiny part of her that was disappointed by Bella’s swift loss of interest in a subject that was so dear to Cat’s heart. She might not want to discuss him, but she wanted to have it confirmed that he was worthy of discussion.

When the band struck up again, James was immediately on his feet, picking up Bella’s hand as he rose. ‘Come on, Bella, it’s a St Bernard’s Waltz. You like to waltz.’

Cat wondered how he could make so confident an assertion, considering how little he knew Bella. And how brief she assumed his own acquaintance with Scottish country dancing to be. However, her friend responded, ‘I don’t like to waltz, I love it. So dreamy. But my evil sisters will tease us if we dance together all night, Jamie.’

‘You’re confusing me with someone who gives a toss. They’re just jealous. I want to waltz with a beautiful woman, but I’ll make do with you, Bella.’ His smile was impish, his words free of sting.

‘You are so bad, Jamie. Will you be OK, Cat? I don’t know where my hopeless brother has got to …’ She looked around, distracted. ‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll be back in a minute.’ Without further pretence at reluctance, she followed James on to the dance floor and let him draw her close as the dance permitted.

Cat felt her shoulders slump in spite of her determination to remain straight-backed and cheerful in the face of her disappointment. Martha Thorpe leaned across and patted her arm. ‘He’ll be back soon, then you’ll be happy again. He’ll have you tripping the light fantastic again. What an adorable couple you make.’

It took her a moment to realise Martha was speaking of her son. ‘I’m fine as I am, thank you,’ she said.

‘Of course you are,’ Martha said condescendingly. ‘But you must feel deflated after enjoying John’s high spirits on the dance floor.’

Susie interrupted, saving Cat from having to find an anodyne response. ‘Did you see Henry?’

‘No, where is he?’

Susie looked around, puzzled. ‘He was with us just now, when you were talking to Bella and James. He said he was tired of lounging about and he wanted to dance. I thought he was coming over to ask you.’

Dismayed, Cat cast an eye over the dancers as they turned and glided past her. And there she saw Henry, smiling down at a frankly dumpy little woman whose dress didn’t suit her in the slightest.

Susie caught sight of him at the same moment. ‘Oh. He’s dancing with someone else.’ After a short silence, she added, ‘He really is a lovely young man.’

‘You’re so right,’ Martha chipped in complacently. ‘I shouldn’t say it about my own son, but there is not a more charming young man in the city, never mind in this room.’

Cat and Susie exchanged a look, both bursting to giggle at Martha’s misapprehension. But that was Cat’s last moment of levity for the evening. Before the dance was over, John Thorpe returned and dropped like a stone into the chair next to her. ‘Shocking hands I’ve just had to endure through there. I thought I might as well come back here and take you for another turn round the floor.’

‘That’s very kind of you. But I’ve danced enough for one evening. And my feet hurt from when you stood on them before.’

He looked dumbfounded. ‘I stood on your feet? I think it’s more like you misplaced your feet and put them where mine needed to be. Come on, let’s have another crack at it and see if you can’t manage it better this time.’

‘Honestly, I’m too tired.’

He gave a heavy, put-upon sigh. ‘OK, then let’s go walkabout and see who we can rip the piss out of.’

‘Really, I’m happy where I am. On you go, though. Don’t let me spoil your fun.’

He looked as if he was about to make another attempt, but just then his sister Jess came by and he snagged her arm. ‘Jess, let’s go and see who we can wind up. Come on, we’ll show them how to have a good time.’

For the rest of the evening, Cat skulked round the fringes of the fun. She moved between the ballroom and the supper room, trying to look purposeful. She even took a couple of selfies to post on her Facebook page so she could pretend to her sisters that she was having the time of her life.

Later, as the balmy night air filled her bedroom, she studied the photos more closely, the better to decide which to post. In the background of one, to her surprise and consternation, was the unmistakable figure of Henry Tilney, his dark inscrutable eyes fixed unswervingly on her.

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