He would have steered her toward the door, but Catherine said, “I would stay in the pump-room, sir.”
He glanced over to the part of the room where Henry stood, and said, “If you insist, madam; but I had hoped for a private audience.”
“We do not need privacy, sir, for what I have to say.” He gazed at her steadily, and Catherine discovered that her carefully prepared speech from Mrs. Radcliffe had abandoned her. “I — that is — ”
Sir Philip’s eyes flicked somewhere behind her, and she knew, without looking, that Henry was there; and the knowledge of that was like a burst of warmth within her.
“Too late,” said Sir Philip, confirming her guess. “Your watchdog has sniffed us out, and stands ready to interfere, as always.”
Catherine turned then, and met Henry’s eye. She smiled, and he smiled in return, and nodded to her encouragingly, but did not approach. He knew that Catherine wished to address the problem herself, but he was there if she needed him. Henry was so kind, and sensible, and dependable! That thought cheered her and at the same time made her angry. How could Sir Philip think that — ? She turned back to him, and found she no longer needed to borrow Mrs. Radcliffe’s words; her own would do.
“My husband only has ‘interfered,’ as you put it, because I asked him to; because I could see that you had formed certain ideas — I know little of the world or of flirtation, sir, and I believe you have misunderstood what only was meant as civility. I have hinted, but I see now that only plain speaking will do. Thus I say to you as plainly as I can, sir, that I have no intention of being your latest amusement. I am a married woman, and I shall keep my vows.”
Sir Philip’s eyes flicked again to Henry. “Madam, I am familiar with the methods that General Tilney employs with his family. If you have been coerced — ”
“General Tilney is different from Henry. I have always been a little afraid of the general, but I could never be afraid of Henry. He has all my confidence, and all my affection.” The last sentence was said with such warmth of expression and such a smile that could leave no man in doubt that Catherine’s words were sincere.
Sir Philip looked at Henry and said, “You have a faithful little wife, Tilney, and I give you joy of her.”
Only then did Henry approach them. “I thank you, Beauclerk; I have great joy of her, I assure you.” He took Catherine’s hand and raised it to his lips.
“Forgive me, madam,” said Sir Philip. “I hope my misapprehension has not caused you undue distress.”
“Oh, no,” said Catherine, who in the flush of her success could not imagine ever feeling distressed again. “I am glad that we understand one another at last.”
“Yes; at last.” He bowed to her, nodded to Henry, and left the pump-room.
The Whitings joined them almost immediately. “Is everything well, Catherine?” Eleanor asked anxiously.
“Yes, I thank you. I forgot the speech I had planned, but I made Sir Philip understand me at last.”
“You were magnificent, my sweet,” said Henry. “Plain speech can do as well, and sometimes better, than the most learned oratory, or even one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s speeches.”
“It will be uncomfortable to be in company with Sir Philip, however. I wish I could have nothing more to do with him, but if General Tilney is determined on marrying Lady Beauclerk, I cannot see how we will be able to avoid him. I am sorry to say it, as they will soon be part of the family, but I do not like the Beauclerks.”
“We need have little to do with any of them beyond her ladyship,” said Henry.
“Will Miss Beauclerk go to live at Northanger Abbey when her mother is married, do you think?”
Eleanor exclaimed, and she exchanged a dismayed look with her brother.
“I had not thought of that,” said Henry.
“Surely my father would not — ” said Eleanor.
Catherine wondered at their words; why would it be so dreadful for Judith Beauclerk to live at Northanger Abbey with her mother?
“Perhaps Miss Beauclerk will marry Sir Philip,” said Lord Whiting. “He has lost his distraction — ” bowing in Catherine’s direction — “and may now remember what is expected of him and come up to scratch.”
“Oh, poor Mr. Shaw,” said Catherine.
Their attention was claimed at that moment by some acquaintances of the Whitings, and Catherine was left to her own thoughts. Though Mrs. Findlay’s accusations of murder had proved to be the workings of an imagination overly stimulated by horrid novels, that did not explain some of the other mysteries that surrounded the Beauclerk family. Mr. Shaw had spoken darkly of “services” he performed on his beloved’s behalf; could they have had anything to do with Sir Arthur Beauclerk’s death? Would Miss Beauclerk buy his silence with the money gained by a marriage to Sir Philip? And why were Eleanor and Henry so alarmed at the idea of Miss Beauclerk living at Northanger Abbey? Even without a murder in the case, there was no doubt that the Beauclerks were a very odd and mysterious family. Catherine had grown up a great deal since her adventures at Northanger Abbey, but there still was a part of her that longed to discover the truth of those mysteries; though in the social crush and swirl of a fine day of high season at the pump-room, murder and mystery seemed laughably improbable.
Chapter Twelve
Going to One Wedding Brings on Another
Friday night arrived as scheduled, and as Catherine’s pleasure in dancing had not been diminished by several exercises, the Tilneys went to the Lower Rooms for the weekly ball. The first set was forming as they arrived; Judith and Sir Philip Beauclerk stood at the top, ready to lead the dance. They took their places and the music began; too late, Catherine saw Eleanor waving to them.
“I should have liked to be next to Eleanor,” Catherine said to Henry.
“We will find them before the next,” he said, and then they were obliged to attend to the dance. Catherine watched Miss Beauclerk carefully so that she would be able to copy her figures, and was a little surprised to see that she was behaving towards her cousin — well, there was no other word for it but flirtatiously; and even more surprisingly, Sir Philip’s behavior was not much different. Henry also was watching the Beauclerks, his brow creased.
When the lead couple reached the Tilneys, Miss Beauclerk reached out and took Catherine’s hand, squeezing it quickly as she crossed over. She said, “Mrs. Tilney, I am so glad to see you!” and went around Henry with her usual light-footed grace. She crossed back and said, “I believe you have not heard my good news. You must wish me joy, for I am to be married.”
Catherine, startled, said, “To whom?” Had Mr. Shaw been able to convince Judith to accept his offer? But that romantic hope was dashed immediately.
“Why, to my dear Philip, of course!”
Catherine looked at Sir Philip, her eyes wide and her mouth open in surprise. How could he — it had not been a week since Sir Philip had acted towards herself as — oh! How could it be?
Sir Philip smirked at her confusion and gave her a little bow. “I thank you for the kind wishes you no doubt wish to bestow, Mrs. Tilney; the demands of the dance, I know, make it difficult.”
“I give you joy, Beauclerk,” said Henry. Only Catherine and Lady Whiting would have recognized the ironic edge of his words.
Certainly Sir Philip did not. “Dashed civil of you, Tilney,” he said, and they were gone, dancing with the next couple in the set.
“How could she do such a thing?” Catherine asked Henry. “She does not know about — ” She stopped, unable to discuss Sir Philip’s behavior in so public a place.
Henry, however, showed perfect comprehension. “Do not fret, my sweet. I suspect she knows more than you think.”
Catherine found such a thing hard to believe. How could Miss Beauclerk take a husband who did not scruple to seduce a married woman?