Page 28 of Searching for Mr Tilney

We found a table just for two and sat down. There was a happy atmosphere, everyone talking about the coming festivities over Christmas. I was enjoying Harry’s company so much, I didn’t really want to think about the fact that there was just over a fortnight of December left, and I’d have to go home, probably never to see him again.

‘It feels just as if we’re in a Jane Austen novel, doesn’t it?’ he said, ‘though it’s a pity we aren’t dressed correctly.’

‘Would you have dressed up?’ I said, surprised that he’d even contemplate wearing breeches and frock coat.

‘Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve always had a hankering to wear Georgian fashions and smirk like Henry Tilney.’

He made a sort of lop-sided pout, which made me smile.

‘But, do you know about muslins, sir?’ I asked trying to keep a straight face.

‘Now, there you have me,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘My sister Elsa has often asked me about her various dresses or fabrics for them, but I must admit, I haven’t a clue.’

‘No, I’m not surprised, though I can’t help thinking that’s not such a bad thing.’ I was finding it difficult to keep looking into his eyes that were drawing me in until I felt I was lost somewhere in the depths of his soul.

‘I hope you’ve enjoyed the evening.’

‘Yes, I have … I can’t tell you how much … thank you so much for asking me.’

‘Well, I hope you’re going to write about it in your journal when you get home.’

‘Oh, you’re impossible,’ I said, recognising his attempt at being Henry Tilney, and laughed, which broke the tension. ‘I shall, of course, do no such thing. You must know I keep no diary,’ I added, trying to give as haughty an answer as Catherine. I couldn’t tell him the truth. How could I possibly say that he would be the entire subject of today’s entry?

***

Harry said we should finish off an evening that felt very “Jane Austen” with a stroll along the Gravel Walk. It was very dark, but a silver moon obligingly glittered every snowbound bough, and I thought I’d been transported to Narnia, especially when the occasional lamppost appeared with a glowing halo to light our way.

The snow was hardened underfoot and quite glacial in parts, and a couple of times I felt myself slipping on the ice in my boots, which I knew were not really fit for walking in icy conditions. On the second occasion Harry caught me just before I fell, and then he insisted that I hold his arm the rest of the way. It was lovely to feel the nearness of him, his warm breath on my cheek when he spoke, and the strength of his arm, gripping me tighter whenever he felt me slipping slightly. We walked slowly, as if we knew time was not on our side, making the most of every second. About halfway down the walk he suddenly stopped and turned to face me.

‘I’m sorry we haven’t been able to see each other more often,’ he said. ‘I’ve really loved sharing this evening with you.’

He was still holding onto my arm, and as I started to say how much I’d loved seeing the house and spending time with him, I wobbled uncertainly on the ice. His free hand caught my other elbow, and I fell against him. I moved to step back, but his arms wound round my waist to hold me steady. There was hardly any distance between us, but it felt wonderful to be standing in moonlight gazing back at such a handsome face - his eyelids, cheekbones, and lips silvered by white light.

I was holding my breath, as he leaned in towards me, and for a moment I thought he might kiss me. But, he seemed to change his mind, and his fingers brushed a curl of hair out of my eyes instead, lingering for a second on my cheek, but then he dropped his hand, stepped back and the moment was over. I was disappointed - I longed for him to kiss me. I really thought he’d been about to, and I wondered whether he’d changed his mind at the last moment or whether I’d simply imagined that he was in any way attracted to me.

‘Now that I’m back, would you like to go out with me again? There’s the dance coming up … I wanted to ask if I could take you, Caroline. I’d love to introduce you to all my friends.’

All my hopes came flooding back. He must like me a little to ask me out again, I thought. I loved hearing him say my name. The sound of it spoken on his lips was like a kiss on the air, and I wished he’d say it again just so I could hear it once more.

‘Oh, I’d love you to take me, Harry,’ and though I heard Piers’ voice in my head telling me not to be too transparent, I couldn’t help myself. ‘I can’t believe how quickly it’s come round.’

‘Yes, too quickly, which also means you’ll be leaving Bath far too soon to go back home to Hampshire and London. I’m only just getting to know you.’

‘I’ve enjoyed meeting you too. It will seem very strange returning to my old way of life.’

I didn’t want to think about going home and starting afresh. But, a part of me just kept thinking it would be an impossible relationship to sustain, and the likelihood of meeting again would be very slim. Bath might as well be a million miles away - at best we’d be able to write to one another, but neither of us were in the position to be able to trail across country, spending a fortune on rail fares. It was just a holiday romance, I told myself, and that I was giving it far more significance than it merited. He hadn’t kissed me, even if I hoped it had crossed his mind. The truth was he probably didn’t want to complicate his life. Harry had his degree to finish, and then who knew where he might take off. He might even end up in Wales, I thought, master of his own castle, and even further away from the possibility of seeing me. Our lives and careers were stretching ahead of us - the last thing we needed was a serious relationship.

Chapter Fifteen

The last week has passed by in a blur of activity. Undaunted, Ellen has taken every opportunity to make sure that Piers and I spend as much time together as possible. She’s determined to make something out of nothing, and though she asked after Harry and whether I’d enjoyed myself the other evening, she clearly doesn’t want to know how much. I confided in Piers who said he’s very pleased for me, and is of the opinion that I must live in the moment and see what happens.

‘True love has a way of working out,’ he said, ‘even under the most unpromising circumstances. Try not to think too far ahead, and take each day as it comes.’

Sound advice, I know, but the fact that there are only three days left before I go home is making me feel very miserable. On top of that I’ve been unable to get the painting I saw in the Royal Crescent out of my head. The image and the feelings I’ve had are so powerful that I can’t believe I’ve not had another of my strange experiences. Once, when I turned the knob on my bedroom door I thought I heard voices coming from the room, but if Jane and Cassandra were there, they disappeared as soon as I entered. I was disappointed, and think the possibility of going back again is highly unlikely in the short time I’ve got left. I can’t begin to think why any of it has been happening to me, though I wonder if my being ill, and feeling not quite in the world has something to do with it.

I haven’t seen Harry because he’s been busy with his work, but he phoned to say he would take me to the ball at the Assembly Rooms, which will sadly be my last night in Bath. I loved hearing his voice, and I can’t wait to see him, even if I know it will be the last time, and that it’s highly unlikely we’ll get a chance to be alone. Ellen, Roger and Piers are coming too, and Harry said that Elsa couldn’t wait to see me again, and that his friends are all looking forward to meeting me. I’m feeling very nervous about that, but excited too. My beautiful dress is hanging outside the wardrobe, and my locket waiting in the velvet box for its moment of glory. I’m thrilled at the thought of dressing up and dancing with Harry even though I know that the moment I’m dressed, the evening will fly by as fast as fairies.

***