Dearest, Gentle readers…

Just kidding. I've had some cocktails.

Alright, I've been rewatching Northanger Abbey again and this idea just won't go away. It's my take on what possibly could've happened if the very last chunk of the ending never happened.

What if she hadn't returned home uninjured? What if Henry was a touch less honorable? What if Mrs. Allen was a bit less of a complete nincompoop? What if Mr. Allen was a bit more devious? And what if Captain Tilney had a heart, way down deep inside?

Prologue

Fullerton

"Mama, mama! It's Mrs. Allen!" Little Harriet Morland ran into the room, excited by the sudden arrival of a guest, albeit a common one. She plopped down on the sofa next to her mother and across from her big sister, Catherine.

Mrs. Morland put aside her sewing and placidly smiled at her oldest daughter. "Cathy, why don't you put on a kettle for Mrs. Allen and I'll greet our guest?" She stood and walked away.

Catherine nodded at her mother's command and went to do her bidding. She filled the kettle with water and went through the motions of making tea, but her mind, as usual, was somewhere else. These days, her family was hardpressed to come upon her with any degree of attention to anything.

Almost year had passed since her return from Northanger Abbey. It wasn't as though she still thought of Mr. Tilney or his sister every minute of every day as she had the first few months after she'd recovered from her illness, but her thoughts still strayed often to other things and she was a much quieter girl than before.

"Catherine, come here, please," her mother called from the other room.

Catherine glanced down at the kettle and saw it was still heating up and so left it and went to the parlor. Mrs. Allen looked especially glad to see her and patted the seat next to her for the girl sit. Catherine did so and smiled at her friend.

"Catherine, Mrs. Allen and I have been speaking of you. She and Mr. Allen have decided to return to Bath this year and asked your father and I for permission to bring you along. We have given our consent, provided you wish to go."

Catherine had never gone from placid to alarmed in so short a span of time. "I … Bath? Me? I … I couldn't."

Mrs. Allen was not insensitive to her young charges fears. "Catherine, I assure you that a change of scenery is just what you need most. I have been in correspondence with Mrs. Hughes and have it on the utmost confidence that the family with which we were previously acquainted and which has been the subject of much thought and distress is residing at their country estate at the moment with no thoughts of travel."

The Tilney's would not be in Bath. That thought filled her with both relief and sadness. She wanted to see them again, at least Eleanor and Henry, and had spent so much time thinking that there must be some reason for no response to her letters that she wanted to give them a chance to explain. The other part of her acknowledged that there could be no other reason for not writing except of a wish to no longer be acquainted with her and to sever ties.

She alternated between feeling remorse for whatever she'd done to incur the General's wrath and angry at the way she'd been treated and the consequences of sending her home alone in the middle of the night. She'd almost died from the illness she'd contracted. There was still a cough that lingered.

And Henry… she'd loved him so much.

Tears filled her eyes and her mother ushered her over to her, taking her hand and shushing her. "Cathy, my dear, I know there is still pain over what happened. And I know that there is the matter of your heart that is not yet resolved."

Catherine blushed and withdrew her hand.

"The cough lingers, my dear. I fear for your health."

Mrs. Allen spoke up. "I assure you, Catherine, a holiday is just what you need. New gowns must be ordered for spring is coming and your old ones won't do. There will be balls and the theater and young people and concerts. There will be no time for thinking of any unhappy thoughts."

Catherine slowly shook her head from one side to another but was interrupted by her mother.

"Please, Catherine, listen to us. At least try. If something should happen and you wish it, then coming home is always an option. Please tell me you'll think on the matter?"

Catherine took a few moments to process her decision and then nodded. "I must check on the tea."

When she left the room, the two women spoke in hushed tones. "I think she'll come around," Mrs. Morland told her friend. "Give her the night to think and we'll have an answer for you tomorrow."

Mrs. Allen nodded. "Catherine is a favorite of mine, as you well know. It has hurt me deeply to think that anything I may have done or … character I may have misjudged has brought on these misfortunes. I only want the chance to make right the wrongs that have been done against her and your family."

Mrs. Morland smiled at the other women's rare display of insight into another person's feelings that had nothing to do with a gown or a ball. "I assure you we hold no one responsible for Cathy's despondence other than that horrid gentleman who resides at Northanger Abbey. No one could have supposed he would act in such a way toward a young girl and a guest, no less."

Mrs. Allen shook her head and both women quieted as Catherine brought in the tea tray and set it down on the table between them. Suddenly, she straightened and looking at no one in particular, she said, "I'll go."

Chapter One

Bath

A week later they were settled in Bath at similar lodgings as the previous year. Mrs. Allen had insisted the very next day in going to the dressmaker and ordering new gowns for herself and for Catherine. As she was still unmarried, there was a lot of white but one piece of pale blue silk fabric caught her eye and Mrs. Allen exclaimed it too beautiful to pass up. A new ballgown was ordered with specific instructions for a silk gown with a cream colored net overlay and small sleeves.

"You'll look simply beautiful, my dear," Mrs. Allen said when Catherine attempted to dissuade her from ordering the dress. "I'm getting one too but in the pink French silk. And of course two or three muslin gowns. You know I do so love muslin."

Catherine smiled in spite of herself. "I do indeed, ma'am."

That night they dined with Mr. Allen and filled him in on their earlier outing. "And how much did your joy and happiness it cost me this time, my dear?" he asked with an indulgent and humorous tone.

"Oh, Mr. Allen, you tease," his wife laughed. "But just wait until you see Miss Morland's new gown. We ordered a few but one in particular you must see. I believe we have to the end of the week until they are delivered and then you will be astonished."

"Will I? I suppose we'll see."

The next day was filled with trepidation for Catherine for Mrs. Allen proposed visiting the Tea Room. What if she should see one of the Thorpe's or what if Mrs. Allen had been misinformed and the Tilney's were here in Bath right this moment? What would she do?

Feigning a headache, she went upstairs to lay down and felt so awful for Mrs. Allen's kindness toward her and her own cowardice. But for the first week, she couldn't bring herself to do more than take long walks in some of the very places she used to walk with Mr. and Miss Tilney.

The solitude and quiet were two things she hadn't felt or heard in a very long time. She found herself off the path and facing a small stream. Light filtered down through the trees and warmed her skin. She took off her bonnet and let it hang down in one hand.

She couldn't help but remember the last time she'd walked here with the Tilney's. Mr. Tilney's handsome face and teasing laughter echoed in her mind. A slow tear slipped down her cheek at all she'd had and lost so abruptly.

Suddenly, movement behind her let her know she was no longer alone and she quickly wiped her cheek and turned, startled. Her face grew pale at the sight of the person stopped in front of her, holding the reins to his horse. It was a face she would never forget.

"Captain Tilney," she acknowledged, shocked.

He inclined his dark head toward her in the most condescending manner. "Whatever are you doing here in the woods all alone?" His tone implied "little girl" but he had the good grace not to say it aloud.

Catherine turned away quickly and did her best to wipe her eyes without drawing attention to the fact that it was what she was doing. Then she turned back to him with a very reserved expression and began moving back towards the path. "That is none of your business. Good day."

From somewhere behind her, he spoke. "As I recall, you are not to fond of me. Not as fond as your friend, Miss Thorpe, anyway."

The sudden anger his words provoked almost shocked her at its intensity and she stopped walking and turned around. He was still a few feet away and looking at her with the usual arrogant sneer that seemed pasted onto his face. "How dare you speak to me of her, and that, and … what you did."

He raised an eyebrow. "What I did?"

Catherine moved closer to him, anger causing her to throw caution to the wind. Her reputation was on the line and if anyone should see them together here with no chaperone she would be ruined. "Yes, what you did."

He pursed his lips and looked down for a moment. "And what is it exactly that you think I did?" His eyes were most wicked when they darted back up to her's. As if he had some sort of dark secret.

Catherine's cheeks were high in color now. "You knew Isabella was engaged to my brother, James, and you took her away from him. He was heartbroken. And you did not even marry her but instead left to rejoin your regiment. Why?" Maybe this, at least, was one question she would be able to have answered.

He chuckled. "Miss Morland, I assure you I did not take anything from anybody. Miss Thorpe came quite willingly and I promised her nothing. To be sure, she did her best to entrap me into marriage but she is very young and I … am not so easily persuaded."

Catherine looked at him, bewildered. "Then you cared nothing for her? But then why do it at all?"

"She was pretty and amusing."

She could feel her anger and hurt and sadness rising again. "And for that you hurt my brother." Her eyes pricked with tears and she blinked hard. "I suppose your family is good at that. Hurting people." It was ungenerous of her to include his whole family in that insult but she was hurt and angry and only wanted to get away from him. She turned abruptly and began walking back toward Pultney street before she said anything else that would shame her later.

"What did you expect, Miss Morland?"

She almost ignored him until he spoke again.

"My father was never going to allow a girl of no fortune or family or connections to ensnare one of his children. Did you really think you could get away with it?"

She halted her steps and turned back, genuinely confused. "What are you on about, sir? Get away with what?"

He gave her a look and moved slowly closer. "Come, Miss Morland, it was apparent to anyone with eyes that you had designs on my brother. And he returned your feelings, I'm sure. But my father would never allow a girl without a fortune to marry him."

Catherine was mortified and confused at the same time. "I may have … had feelings for your brother, but I never had designs. I hoped at one time… but that is neither here nor there. If your father was so against my lack of fortune, as you put it, then why did he invite me to Northanger Abbey in the first place? Why be so kind to me for weeks only to treat me so horribly for no apparent reason?"

She was getting agitated and withdrew a handkerchief to cough once into it. She had to calm down or it would start a coughing fit.

He took it all in and then answered her. "You don't know."

Catherine breathed slowly and calmly and lowered her hand. "Know what?"

"The reason for his abrupt reversal of sentiments toward you."

Now her face softened in vulnerability. "Not knowing has caused me agony, I assure you. I fear I must have offended him in some way so greatly that-"

"My father was under the impression that you had a great inheritance, and, in addition, was of some importance to the Allen's who are, I believe, very wealthy. It was understood that you were the heir to their fortune. The night my father came home in a great rage, I was later told, he'd just found out that none of that was true."

She only looked at him for a few long seconds. "That's all? My only crime was in not being as rich as he wanted me to be?"

He only raised an eyebrow in answer.

"He did all that to me after pretending to like me for so many weeks all because of something I had no control over- that was not my fault?" Her voice rose higher in anger. "I almost died because of him." She held the handkerchief to her mouth and nose again to stop another cough and glared at him. "I suppose if he's like that it shouldn't surprise me that you are the way you are. The both of you are heartless and cruel."

She walked away in earnest this time.

"Do you not wonder about my brother at all? If he knew? What his reaction was? If he ever actually loved you?" The last part was said in a mocking tone and she realized he probably couldn't help it. It was simply the coldness inside him coming out in his speech. He knew nothing of love or compassion.

Tears slipped down her cheeks but this time she didn't turn around. She only shook her head and kept walking. "I cannot," she whispered.

Alright, so I have a plan of where I'm going with this and it fleshes out in the next and third chapters. The language has been a tad hard to get into so if it looks like some parts are a touch too modern bear with me.