Eleanor, Thomas, Catherine and I walked through the grounds this morning and as we went down to the lake, Eleanor and Thomas were reminiscing over their first meeting.

‘I felt very awkward,’ said Thomas. ‘I knew so very few people and it was a relief to me to meet you’ – turning to Eleanor – ‘and find a kindred spirit. My poor servant was just as much overawed as I was, and the poor man was so flustered by all the grandeur of the abbey that he left behind a collection of washing bills in a cabinet. He only told me about it after we had arrived back at my modest rooms, when it was too late to reclaim them.’

Catherine started and blushed, then burst out laughing. We looked at her enquiringly, and she, torn between embarrassment and humour, revealed that she had found them late at night, but that her candle had been extinguished before she could examine them.

‘You need say no more!’ I exclaimed. ‘You were certain you had found a letter from Matilda, telling of her cruel treatment and unnatural imprisonment by her monstrous father – or uncle – or guardian – who was determined to force her into a distasteful marriage in pursuit of his own ambitions.’

She blushed again but admitted it was so, and we all laughed together.

‘I am glad they gave you such an adventure,’ said Thomas. ‘At least you had entertaining company from the start of your visit. When I arrived at the abbey I knew no one but Frederick.’

At the mention of Frederick, Catherine stiffened. Eleanor, seizing the moment, said, ‘My brother will be joining us tomorrow.’

‘Then you must excuse me if I withdraw,’ said Catherine.

‘But I will not excuse you,’ said Eleanor. ‘You must make your peace with Frederick. You are to be brother and sister, after all.’

Catherine did not like the notion but in deference to Eleanor’s wishes she determined to remain and to act with at least the appearance of civility.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring.


Friday 23 August

A surprising day. Frederick arrived this afternoon and although he did no more than bow to Catherine, he watched her throughout dinner and seated himself next to her when we retired to the drawing room afterwards.

Catherine tried to excuse herself, but he would not let her go.

‘You do not want to talk to me, I see, but I must insist, even though you are still angry with me for having come between your brother and his betrothed,’ said Frederick.

Catherine did not deny it.

‘You must have liked Isabella a great deal,’ he said.

‘I certainly did not,’ returned Catherine. ‘I never was more deceived in anyone in my life.’

‘But you thought she was good enough for your brother?’

‘No,’ said Catherine decidedly.

‘Then we have more in common than you suppose, for I did not think she was good enough for him, either.’

Catherine was surprised and then thoughtful. She said, with a frown, ‘Do you mean that you came between them deliberately, because you did not want them to marry, knowing they would be unhappy?’

‘Let us just say, I gave Isabella an opportunity to show her true worth and she availed herself of it,’ he said. ‘I felt it better that your brother should discover her true nature before he married her, rather than afterwards.’

‘To be sure, that would have been very dreadful,’ Catherine acknowledged.

‘You are angry with me at the moment, but do you think that one day we might be friends?’

‘I do not know,’ she said uncertainly. ‘My brother is still very distrustful of women, and you brought that distrust about. Perhaps your motives were good, but your way of going about things was not so fortunate.’

Frederick shrugged and said, ‘It is the way of the world. Women are not to be trusted, and the sooner a man learns it, the better.’

‘You are very severe on us,’ said Margaret, who had overheard him because of a lull in her own conversation.

‘Present company excepted, of course,’ said Frederick. ‘But I believe the only three women worth knowing are all in this room and are all, alas, either married or betrothed.’

‘Oh, there are other women worth knowing,’ said Charles. ‘Penelope Maple, for one.’

‘Pen is engaged to Lord Larchdean,’ said Frederick. ‘It is true, he is twenty years older than she and possesses a voice like a foghorn, but he is very rich and of course he has a title.’

‘It is a very good match for her,’ said my father, who had taken little interest in the rest of the conversation but who was at once alert at the mention of a lord.

Frederick gave him a look which was at once hostile and understanding.

Later, when everyone else had retired for the night, Fredrick put a hand on my arm.

‘Stay,’ he said. ‘We have not had a chance to talk since I arrived.’

I saw that he needed to speak to someone and so I indulged him.

‘I have been angry with our father for a long time, but today, talking to Catherine, I realized that I had done to her brother exactly what our father did to me, and yet I had never seen it before. I had thought our father motivated by pride and greed—’

‘Which he was,’ I said.

He acknowledged it.

‘And yet his actions, if not his motives, were the same as mine when I flirted with Isabella Thorpe. He wanted to save me from a bad marriage and I wanted to save James Morland from the same.’

‘Are you saying that you forgive our father?’

He shook his head slowly.

‘No, not forgive, but perhaps – understand.’

‘And have you forgiven women yet, for having betrayed you. Have you understood that not all women are the same?’

‘As to that, I know they are not all the same, but unfortunately the ones that interest me are all the same. I do not have the good fortune to be attracted to a Margaret, or an Eleanor or a Catherine.’

‘Or a Penelope?’

‘Pen is the same as all the rest, marrying for a fortune and a title. She always said she would marry a lord.’

‘And how old was she when she said it?’

‘Fourteen. I remember the day distinctly. It was the day I began to lose all faith in women.’

‘And are your ideas what they were at fourteen?’ I asked him.

He gave a bitter laugh.

‘No, for then I liked the idea of chasing women. I did not know that they were not worth catching,’ he remarked.

‘Then if your ideas have changed since you were fourteen, do you not think it possible that Pen has changed as well?’

‘As she is to marry Larchdean, it is clear that she has stayed the same,’ he said bitterly.

‘I think not. I happen to know that Larchdean proposed but was turned down.’

He looked surprised, and an unmistakeable gleam crept into his eye.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked.

‘I had it from Larchdean himself.’

He shrugged, trying to pretend he did not care, but I would not be surprised if he is called away tomorrow. It would be a strange thing if this year saw all three of us married!


Saturday 31 August

My father has done his best to ignore Catherine and the Allens, but a combination of his delight at Eleanor’s marriage and my own determination have brought about a softening of his opposition. Then, too, he has discovered that Catherine’s family are not so poor as he supposed. He has also discovered that the Allens, being childless, have not decided where to leave their property, and so he speculates that they might leave it to Catherine, and so at last he has withdrawn his opposition to our marriage. He has not gone so far as to give us his blessing, but he said to Eleanor this morning that I could be a fool if I liked it. And as I do like it, our marriage will shortly go ahead.

Thanks to Eleanor’s intervention, I am now welcome once more at Northanger Abbey, and I intend to return there on Monday with my father, whilst Catherine will leave for Fullerton. But before long I will be with her again, for I mean to drive over to see her parents as soon as the necessary preparations have been put in hand – and before my father can change his mind!



SEPTEMBER

Monday 2 September

Frederick was waiting for us on our return to the abbey and informed us that he is newly engaged to Penelope. Since she comes of a good family and has a considerable dowry my father is pleased, and since I have heard from Frederick’s own lips that he loves her, I am also pleased. And Frederick was good enough to say he was delighted to hear of the happy conclusion to my own affairs.



Tuesday 3 September

My father wrote a long and courteous letter to the Morlands, full of empty professions and meaningless phrases, which he instructed me to give to them when I next go to Fullerton. He was somewhat startled when I informed him that I intended to set out at once, but he waved me away with something like cordiality. I arrived this evening and was welcomed warmly by Mr and Mrs Morland, who are almost as happy as Catherine and myself that our marriage can now take place.

Catherine and I have decided on an October wedding and we are to follow it with a tour of Scotland, where there are plenty of castles and mountains and dungeons to exercise her imagination. Who knows, we might be captured by banditti after all!



OCTOBER

Friday 11 October

After all our trials and tribulations, nothing occurred to prevent our wedding and Catherine and I were married this morning. The bells rang and everybody smiled. The perfect happy ending!