An Adventuresome Afternoon

by Scintilla10

Summary:

In which Catherine and Henry return to Bath.

Written for 6beforelunch in the Fandom Free For All, who asked for: Northanger Abbey/Pride and Prejudice - Mr & Mrs. Tilney and Mr. & Mrs. Bingley meet in Bath. Hijinks optional but appreciated.

After but three happy months of marriage, Henry Tilney was obliged for reasons of business to travel once again to Bath. When he proposed that Catherine join him and that they extend the visit to unite business and pleasure (providing satisfaction to both Tilneys), Catherine was initially delighted. Bath could not, in particular, be surpassed in fondness for being the location of her first introduction to Henry and her dear friend and sister Eleanor. However, the truth was that she knew no one in that city, and even Henry's assurances that he had several people of acquaintance could not fully shake her anxiety about their friendlessness there.

But to Catherine's delight and relief, they were not long in Bath before one of Henry's promised acquaintances, a Colonel Fitzwilliam, revealed himself. There was, at first, some momentary strain in conversation when Catherine was informed that the basis of the Colonel's acquaintance with Henry was through General Tilney; Henry and the General had yet to resolve all the particulars of their estrangement, though Catherine still hoped the painful separation would prove to be only temporary. However, the Colonel was quick to profess his regret at those circumstances, being quite unconscious of the events that had precipitated them, and showed no inclination to renege upon his new friendship with Henry, which endeared Catherine to him immediately.

The Colonel was engaging company, and Catherine could see that Henry liked him immensely. Catherine was pleased, of course, and enjoyed the Colonel's congenial presence, but she secretly wished there was someone with whom she could form such an attachment. At this distance, Eleanor's friendship and affection was only communicated to her through paper and ink, and she felt its loss acutely.

So it was to her great delight that the very next day at the Lower Rooms the Colonel introduced her to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, recent arrivals in Bath. The Colonel engaged Mr. Bingley in conversation regarding some mutual acquaintance, and Mrs. Bingley inclined her head to Catherine with a little smile, prompting Catherine to eagerly accept the invitation to converse.

Mrs. Bingley was all that was graceful and gentle and considerate; she did not remark on Catherine's anxious speech and she answered each of Catherine's ardent questions with equanimity. She and Mr. Bingley had not been in Bath long; they intended to stay some time; they had few acquaintances thus far and had kept mainly to themselves. Any hint of reservation in her manner was easily balanced by the kindness of her disposition and the benevolence of her expression, and Catherine's loquaciousness erased any unnatural silences between them.

Not since meeting her beloved Eleanor had Catherine felt such an immediate and genuine stirring of congeniality and fellow-feeling for a new acquaintance. She felt that Mrs. Bingley was the kindest and most gracious young lady she had ever had occasion to meet. Catherine had arrived in Bath determined to make friends and, as she confessed to Eleanor in a letter the following day, she was greatly desirous of deepening the intimacy between herself and Mrs. Bingley.

Luckily their paths crossed again, as but two days later Catherine and Henry met with Mr. and Mrs. Bingley in the Pump Room.

"Have you been enjoying Bath, Mrs. Tilney?" Mr. Bingley inquired.

"Oh! Yes, it is very lovely," Catherine said earnestly. "It is my second visit."

"You must be used to its fast pace by now," Mr. Bingley said. "I am afraid it is a bit overwhelming for Mrs. Bingley; we live a much slower life in the country."

"Oh, we do as well!" Catherine said hastily. "Mr. Tilney has a small country parish, the most perfectly situated parish in all of England; it is nothing like Bath."

"For instance, our worthy neighbours are often so busy," Henry put in, "that we find ourselves with only the dogs for conversation. Bath is quite a luxury in that regard."

"And I had hoped that I would see more of the countryside while we were here," Catherine continued, ignoring the way Henry's mouth was quirked slightly upwards, "but the weather has not been so kind as to oblige me."

"I am confident that will change!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley. "How could anyone fail to indulge such a courteous request?"

Catherine blushed. Mr. Bingley was as handsome a young husband as his wife was beautiful. Catherine thought they shone like gold when they stood so easily next to one another -- but it was perhaps only the gleam of the sunlight on their fair hair.

"I have missed our walks 'round Netherfield," Mrs. Bingley said, with a small, private smile for her husband.

"Why," said Catherine suddenly, struck by inspiration, "we should organize a picnic!"

"A picnic!" said Bingley in delight. "What a capital idea!"

Clearly pleased by the thought of such an excursion, Mr. Bingley had soon arranged everything, and it was agreed that the four of them were to attempt the outing the following day.

~~~~

The morning dawned clear and bright, and Catherine shivered with mingled excitement and anxiety at the prospect of the picnic.

But the anxiety, it seemed, was unnecessary. They found the picnic spot easily: a pretty grassy field dotted with sprawling trees and cut through by a deep, flowing river. If Catherine were younger, she would have been tempted to swim in such clear and sparkling water -- but it had been years since she was young enough to attempt such a feat, and if the thought crossed her mind that day it was only fleetingly.

The picnic was as generous to the intellect as to the digestion. Catherine was sure that a more perfect foursome could not have been put together by any but God; their conversation was delightful, their humour complementary, their opinions stimulating. It seemed to Catherine's delighted mind that the excursion was already a great success. The Bingleys' situation in life was so similar to Catherine and Henry's (except where it differed greatly in matters of finance) that Catherine flushed with joy at the thought of the comradeship that had sprung between them so naturally.

Once they finished their luncheon, the gentlemen offered to dispose of the picnic items while the ladies took a brief stroll, and Catherine was more than happy to comply. She almost burst with happiness when Mrs. Bingley took step beside her and, upon Catherine's plea to be addressed as "Catherine," asked Catherine to call her "Jane" in return.

The day was warm and beautiful and Catherine forgave the ill weather of the preceding few days. There were flowers beside the small path they followed, and small birds swooped in dizzying flight nearby, and the river burbled happily beside them. The world seemed in perfect harmony.

As they approached the small copse of trees around which the river bent, Catherine caught a tantalizing glimpse of fluttering white feathers. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, look!" Her heart sped up, and she pulled Mrs. Bingley -- Jane! -- eagerly forward in her excitement.

"What is it?"

"A swan, I think!" Catherine said. "Oh, come quick!" She dropped Jane's arm to hurry faster along the path, eager to catch up with the majestic bird. What a perfect sight it would be to end the perfect day!

The path was less well-tended this far from the picnicking spot, and Catherine's boots sank deep into the mud. But she continued on, determined to catch better sight of the beautiful creature. She rounded the bend and slowed, immediately drawn in by the beauty of the view that greeted her.

Jane came upon her soon after, and Catherine felt momentarily guilty that Jane had been obliged to chase after her over such rough terrain. But, "Isn't it lovely!" she said to Jane. "So elegant and graceful!" She refrained from saying how like a poised and beautiful swan Jane was herself, and sighed in delight as the swan arched its long white neck and ruffled its pretty feathers, which gleamed in the sunlight.

"It is -- larger than I expected," Jane admitted, as the swan approached them in a graceful glide across the water.

"Is it not the most beautiful creature you have ever seen?" Catherine said, a little dreamily. She should like a pond, she thought, if the parsonage were larger (not that she should wish it so, for she felt instinctively that Woodston was the most perfect size for a home), with a family of swans gracing its surface.

The swan was fearless, it seemed, for it swam even closer to them. Beside her, Jane seemed doubtful of making its closer acquaintance, and Catherine had to admit to a little apprehension herself in the face of such a creature. It was larger than expected, and growing even larger as it approached them; even more worryingly, the elegant beauty it had displayed at a distance was tempered in close quarters by its dark, beady eyes, a tinge of unhealthy yellow to its feathers, and a distinctly swampy odour. When it waddled fearlessly out of the water and onto the bank, it seemed to lose its heavenly gracefulness and took on what could only be described as an air of menace.

Jane nervously entreated Catherine to retreat to a safe distance, but Catherine stubbornly remained steadfast, refusing to allow the creature to cut them off from the path that led back to the carriages. But even she could not completely retain her composure when the swan screeched shrilly and, without warning, lashed out at her person; she shrieked, loud and unladylike, and took to hand the nearest defense she could: a short heavy branch that had fallen to the ground from an overhanging tree. She swung it heavily in the beast's direction, but though the swan hissed at her, it escaped without injury to the water's edge.

Her cry having drawn the attention of the gentlemen, they arrived in great haste, and the swan retreated entirely at the charge of such a cavalry. Henry drew up immediately at her side and the sight of such concern and affection on his face was enough to fortify her.

Upon recovering her composure, Catherine was mortified at her wanton and reckless behaviour. She was even more horrified when she took in the state of the entire party, untidy from exertion and splattered with muddy water. Once Bingley had ascertained Jane's well-being, he regained his innate cheerfulness and good humour, and Jane said not one word against Catherine throughout the somewhat subdued ride home. But Catherine felt their unspoken reprimands like a wound to her breast. How disastrous an outing for so new and auspicious a friendship! She was thankful that she had not made her comparison between Jane and the swan explicit, for it would surely now be unwelcome -- and, in any case, the swan itself had proved her quite slanderous.

"I wish that Nature would stay ever at a distance," Catherine said to Henry when they were alone in the carriage. "It is very discomfiting to encounter it in such alarming proximity."

"I suppose the thrill of the wild unknown is part of the enjoyment of it," Henry said reasonably.

"It is not a thrill at all!" Catherine cried. "It is actually quite dismal! I shouldn't ever like to have swans at Woodston."

"I shall endeavor to remember that," Henry said gravely, and very gently took hold of her hand.

~~~~

Catherine feared that Jane Bingley would never desire to see her again. She felt instinctively that Jane was too kind to ever issue the cut direct, but, as she wrote mournfully to her beloved Eleanor, Jane surely would not tender any invitations to the Tilneys now, nor offer to engage in further correspondence with Catherine once their visit in Bath was complete. The loss of this most hoped-for comradeship was an unhappy blow.

But happily, Catherine's fears were unfounded. For two days hence, at the Lower Assembly rooms, Jane Bingley approached Catherine -- quite of her own volition -- and smiled at her with genuine sweetness and delight. "I was just relating to Miss Montgomery our recent adventures," she said, once they had greeted one another, and turned to include her companion. "Dear Mrs. Tilney was the height of bravery."

"Oh!" said Catherine, blushing.

Once Jane's friend made her good-byes, Jane took Catherine's arm quite naturally. "A more adventuresome afternoon I have not experienced since I left Netherfield," Jane confided, still smiling. "You remind me a little of my sister Lizzy."

Though not sensible of the entirety of the compliment that had just been paid her, Catherine was nevertheless inordinately pleased to be compared to a sister of Mrs. Bingley's, and such was her blissful happiness that the incident with the swan was quite freely forgotten.

 

The End. And the beginning of a beautiful friendship.