By Janice P.

Part Two

Catherine Morland was in agony - not physical (except the headache), but mental. She had been ever since she "woke" in Henry's arms at the side of the road and realized that she couldn't face a member of the Tilney family. Talking to Eleanor had been hard enough. She had no idea how to deal with Henry. She admired him so much. He was her complete ideal. Even his delicacy in leaving her alone once he found out WHY she was traveling that day showed how gentleman-like he was.

What was she to do? She didn't know anyone in Woodston, and it didn't have an inn - at least, not one where a respectable young lady could stay, alone, for the night. The surgeon didn't want her to travel. But then, she didn't have the means to travel right then anyway. Perhaps Mr. Tilney (she didn't want to be too familiar - not even in her thoughts should she be referring to him as Henry) could be prevailed upon to find another means of transportation for her. But, by now it was too late in the day. She had lost valuable time. There was no way she could get home before night, and the idea of traveling alone, in the dark, was frightening.

As Catherine's thoughts raced, around and around, trying to find some solution, she heard a step in the hall. Mrs. Jones, the housekeeper tapped at the door and entered with a tray for Catherine. The older woman looked at Catherine. She settled the tray before her "patient" and said, "Young Toby has collected your trunk and bags from the coach. They'll be up directly. The doctor said you weren't to travel until you were better. The master said you would be staying here, as you were a friend of his sister. Can I get you anything else, Miss?"

Catherine was aghast. "I can't stay here!" she exclaimed. She could hardly look at Mrs. Jones, she was so embarrassed. It seemed like humiliation upon humiliation was her lot for the day. Catherine continued to stammer, "Mr. Tilney can't be serious! It would be so improper - and a clergyman too! I know the Doctor said I wasn't to travel, but surely there is a respectable inn nearby that I can go to?" Her imploring look at Mrs. Jones convinced the woman of her sincerity.

Mrs. Jones hadn't been sure how to take the whole mess when her master dropped it in her lap. She had wondered in Miss Morland was another star-struck social climber. Hearing her speak, seeing her manners and the propriety of her thoughts, convinced Mrs. Jones that the young Miss wasn't to blame for her position. Mrs. Jones had felt rather responsible for the young pastor. A young man in his position was always prey for social climbers and even fortune hunters (for a younger son, he was well off between the living and his mother's legacy).

The older woman warmed to the young Miss and Mrs. Jones decided to be helpful. "Mr. Tilney told me you were to stay here. There isn't a good inn within a hours' travel, not one you could stay at without a chaperone, miss. I will be here to chaperone you, and this is something of an emergency. I believe Mr. Tilney is going tomorrow to get his sister to stay with you." After dropping that bombshell, Mrs. Jones started to leave.

Catherine was more horrified than she thought possible. "Mrs. Jones! Please! I really can't stay, and I can't put out the Tilney family. Miss Tilney won't be home tomorrow - she will be setting out to visit with friends." She looked hopefully at Mrs. Jones. "You must help me convince Mr. Tilney to help me make other arrangements. Dr. Normand is too careful - I am quite capable of traveling."

Mrs. Jones was a simple woman, but not stupid. She could tell that Catherine's agitation went beyond the social rules. Given the circumstances, a respectable young lady, and friend to the family, could stay (with a housekeeper to chaperone) at the local parson's home for a night during an emergency. Nobody would have THAT much to say about it. So the question remained, why was Miss Morland so worried and upset? It went beyond the shaking she had when the carriage tipped. Mrs. Jones could tell she was a (physically at least) resilient young lady. She didn't look frail, or act it for that matter. She decided to stay out of the matter, for the time being at least, until she better understood the situation. Her reply was, "Its for the master to say Miss, and he says you are staying" and out she went.

Henry couldn't be sure how he got out of the after-church crowd. He was polite, but when people questioned him about his visitor, he simply stated that he had happened upon a friend of his sister's who had been in an accident. He didn't feel up to dealing with his parish's questions and insinuating comments. His main goal was to speak to his curate, who he finally got a hold of. Henry asked Mr. Worthington to come over to his house before dinner and finally managed to get away. As he walked into the house, the pleasure of knowing he had only to go up the stairs to see Catherine almost overcame him. The shame he felt at his father's behavior, and his own confusion on what he was going to do took a distant second place to being able to spend some time (almost) alone with Catherine.

He had thought about his plans, and his father's unreasonable decision. The General was known for being unreasonable, but this went far beyond the usual. There was more to Catherine's' story than met the eye, but of one thing, Henry was sure. Catherine was innocent of any real crime. And poor Eleanor was to be treated poorly - almost as much as Catherine! Henry was angry on both ladies behalf. He spared a sardonic chuckle for himself - he knew he was just as annoyed on his own behalf, though he would never admit it publicly. She had helped make Northanger Abbey more habitable. Her sweetness and admiration fed his vanity (even a clergyman had to have a vice) and Henry laughed again at himself. He greatly enjoyed Catherine's company and had been seriously contemplating when it would be appropriate to ask for her hand. He had yet to meet her family, outside her brother, James. A frown marred his features. Good heavens! What would her family think? Would they even consider his suit, given the terrible treatment Catherine had received at the hands of his family?

A tap at the door announced Mr. Worthington, the curate. Henry asked him in, then decided to be direct.

"Mr. Worthington. I need to go home immediately. A young lady, a friend of my sister's, was hurt in an accident on her way to her parents. I need to appraise my father and sister of the situation. Miss Morland is not up to travel, in the doctor's opinion, and therefore I need to get... company for her. I thought to head out directly after dinner to pick up Miss Tilney. I will bring her back this evening, to keep Miss Morland company. This will give us time to sort out her health and make new travel arrangements. I know this is an imposition, but could you please conduct the evening service for me?"

The curate was quite pleased to help. Mr. Tilney didn't take advantage, as so many young gentlemen in his position were wont to do. He was ASKING, instead of telling. Mr. Worthington was quite willing to help the younger man, and immediately said so. Henry gave the curate a pleased smile and walked him out. When he returned, Mrs. Jones let him know dinner was ready, and that Miss Morland wouldn't be coming down.

Worried at that piece of news, Henry asked his housekeeper is Miss Morland had taken a turn for the worse. Mrs. Jones shook her head and said that the young lady seemed out of spirits. She didn't dare give a stronger hint. One wasn't needed. Henry asked her to hold dinner a few minutes and headed upstairs. He hesitated for a moment before he knocked on the spare room door. Of course Catherine would be embarrassed. She might blame the whole family for his father's surly behavior. Still... it would be nice to sit down to dinner with her, and her alone. It would feed his fancies for quite a while, he suspected, to have the two of them sit at the table, like they were... Here he blushed and realized he had better pull himself together. He knocked and went in when a quiet voice said "come in".

Catherine was no longer sitting on the bed. She was sitting up in a chair with an empty cup of tea sitting on a small table next to her. She had been looking out the window - at the little cottage she had so admired during her last visit. She did not quite turn and face Henry as he came in, but a soft blush was showing on her cheek.

Henry decided to be matter of fact. He started to speak, but Catherine jumped in. "Mr. Tilney, I'm so sorry. I simply can't accept your kind offer to stay. It would be wrong..." She finally looked up at him, and continued, "for me to trespass on your hospitality. Your housekeeper told me you were to going to get your sister. Miss Tilney is already promised to another engagement. I could not be..." Henry interrupted. He couldn't stand to see her so upset and confused.

"Miss Morland. Put yourself at rest. Nobody could consider Eleanor's visit more important than caring for a friend. Her trip can be put off for a week or so with no ill effect. I KNOW she would want to be with you, and I'm aware of how difficult it must be for you to depend on us when the General has treated you so shamefully. Whatever is the matter with him is not my concern right now. Making sure you are cared for correctly, as you SHOULD have been, is." Henry drew a breath and took a quick look at Catherine. "I have made arrangements for my curate to conduct this evening's services. I will drive to Northanger Abbey immediately after dinner and collect my sister. We will be back for a late supper. I would not want your reputation to suffer, especially since you are not at fault. This entire mess can be laid at my father's feet. He has a hasty temper. We will make amends, however. Now, unless you feel very unwell, I would be pleased to have your company at dinner." Henry smiled charmingly at Catherine. He hoped she, usually so obliging, would not be able to say no. He was correct.

Catherine slowly stood. He offered her his arm and walked her down to the dining room. She carefully sat in the chair he held for her, and Mrs. Jones (who had set the table for two - she knew Mr. Tilney quite well!) immediately began to serve the meal. Henry made polite conversation. Catherine didn't seem as oppressed as she had earlier. The security of knowing Henry still thought highly of her had raised Catherine's spirits considerably. She ventured a comment now and then as they ate. When the meal was over, Henry assisted Catherine from her seat and carefully walked her back upstairs with an stern injunction to rest herself. As she was very tired both from the events of the day and her lack of sleep the night before, Catherine was willing to obey.

Henry hurried out to the curricle that Mr. Jones had prepared for him. With an absentminded "Stay" to the dogs, he jumped in and drove off. He knew he could make good speed, the horses were fresh. The little drive this morning was nothing.

Henry tried to stay calm, but on a fine day with fairly clear roads, he couldn't help but think about his father's actions. Every time he managed to calm down, the anger would rise again at the slight to Catherine, or the sad state of affairs for his sister. The General must be very angry, and that meant unpleasantness for poor Eleanor. Their older brother could, and did, avoid their father's moods when he choose. Henry could always plead parish business and normally spent more than half his time away from the Abbey (until a certain charming visitor had arrived). Eleanor had no options. She stayed or went according to the General's pleasure. She could seldom get away. Catherine had provided much needed company for Eleanor. This simple, small pleasure was to be taken away from both deserving young ladies, and for what! The General's whim. Henry could hardly keep from shouting. The only thing that kept him spending any significant time at home was his sister. He had early learned to value her company. She was intelligent and kind. His mother, well before she had died, and tried to teach her sons to value women. She had felt they were safer with the kind of company their sister and other young ladies could provide, than in racketing about with dissolute lordlings and young rakes. His brother had never leaned to appreciate the lesson their mother taught, but Henry had.

As he pulled in to the lane to Northanger Abbey, he took several deep breaths. He pulled in behind the Abbey at the stables and asked the groom who came out to take care of the horses. He went up the back stair, as was his habit. As he strode through the house, he tried, once again, to hold his temper. A little voice in his head laughed and told him he was finally exhibiting the famous Tilney temper.

Eleanor's surprise when she saw her brother striding down the hall was predictable. Tears started as she threw herself into his arms and started to sob out what she knew of Catherine's departure. Henry cut it short. "Actually, that's the reason I'm here. Miss Morland's coach tipped over not far from Woodston. She is not seriously hurt, but cannot travel for a few days, at least. I would like you to accompany me back to Woodston to keep her company until we can be sure she is fit to travel, and can make APPROPRIATE arrangements for her trip home." The gratitude in Eleanor's face was enough to tell him what she thought. Just as he suspected, she was even more mortified by their father's behavior than he had been. Her concern for Catherine had been considerable. She immediately said "I will pack a bag immediately, but how do we tell the General? He expects me to accompany him on a visit tomorrow, and has told me I may not even correspond with Catherine. He won't allow me to go - he will tell you to put her out of the house!" She turned frightened eyes on her brother.

Henry decided to leave Eleanor out of the argument as much as possible. "Go ahead and pack you bag and have a servant bring it down to my curricle immediately. Go directly to the curricle yourself - I will tell the General, and then we will leave. Right now, I do not care if he objects. We are responsible for Miss Morland's care until she goes home, and that includes making suitable travel arrangements. Father may be upset, but so am I. I will take care of this Eleanor. I'm sorry I must involve you - he won't be very forgiving when he realizes you have left with me, but at least you will not have to face him right now." He looked searchingly at his sister. If she looked the least bit reluctant, he would find another way. However, nothing in her face told him to worry. Rather, she showed relief that someone in the family was showing decency and giving her the chance to make it up to Catherine.

Eleanor headed to her room to pack as quickly as she could. The first thing she did was ring for her maid and a man to take her bag to the curricle.

Henry made his way to the sitting room. The General was there, reading a paper. Before he knew what was happening, Henry had taken the bull by the horns. "Father! What could you have been thinking to send Miss Morland away in such a fashion! I found her coach damaged on the side of the road, and Miss Morland herself injured! She didn't even have someone with her to protect her!" Before he could finish, his father started to bellow. "That person doesn't deserve any consideration. I've heard the most shocking things about her family! She isn't worthy to be seen with my family - and I will do as I please young man! I am still the master of this house!" Some of what Henry had said started to sink in. "What do you mean she is injured - that you found her. What is going on!?!" The General looked expectantly at Henry.

The reply was more than he bargained for. "I was out for a drive before morning services. I found a coach damaged and tipped over on the road. I offered my help to the driver, who said a young lady was trapped inside." Henry wasn't above milking the situation and even exaggerating a little bit, to get his father's attention. "I helped pull the UNCONSCIOUS lady out - it was Miss Morland, who I thought was safe here, keeping Eleanor company. When we brought her around, her OTHER injuries became obvious. I couldn't leave her there on the side of the road! I took her home and called a surgeon. The surgeon has stated, categorically, that she can not travel." That was piling it on a bit thick, thought Henry, but it should work. He continued, as his father stared at him in shock, "Miss Morland is very distressed at being in such a situation. I have come to take Eleanor back with me until Miss Morland can travel again. She explained to me that you and Eleanor were leaving first thing tomorrow for a visit." Now comes the hard part, Henry thought.

"Why did I not know of this important visit? Why did you send Miss Morland away in such a fashion? You were the one who told me to woo the young lady. You have spent weeks giving her every attention, and you seemed pleased with her. What happened?" He could hardly believe his father had actually let him finish. It might be the first time that it had ever happened...

The General was more than ready to have his say. "I encouraged you knowing her when I thought she was a worthy person. Her family is destitute, she has no fortune. I was completely mistaken about her, and was only put right t'other day. I came home immediately to remove the leech from my home." He glared at his younger son. "You should have told me. You spent so much time with her, you must have known some of this!"

Continued in Part Three

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