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Preface

                This story is meant as an homage to Jane Austen’s collected works, and therefore frequently uses either direct quotes or paraphrased lines from her six novels. If they are imbedded in the text, they will not be explicitly quoted, but I am sure the devoted reader of Austen will recognize them! The story may be mine, but the genius I attribute entirely to Jane Austen. In proper respect to her art, each chapter will also begin with a relevant quote from one of her six completed novels.

                For the purposes of this story, every Jane Austen book happened about two years ago. Two years ago, Caroline Bingley (Pride and Prejudice) lost Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet, Sir Walter (Persuasion) was duped by his cousin Mr. Elliot, Elizabeth Elliot (Persuasion) was rejected by the same man, Captain Frederick Tilney (Northanger Abbey, now promoted to Major) broke up an engagement in Bath, Tom Bertram (Mansfield Park) recovered after a near mortal illness, and Nancy’s sister Lucy Steele (Sense and Sensibility) got married.  I am using Nancy, which seems to be Anne Steele’s nickname, to avoid confusion with Mrs. Anne Wentworth, Sir Walter’s second daughter. (It’s almost like Jane Austen was trying to avoid future crossovers, she re-uses so many first names!)

                You must excuse me for not being able to include a character from Emma, alas, Jane Austen herself is the one at fault. She married off every person so well, so happily, that I could not separate them. Just read the book again, there is no one left. And I know what you’re thinking, what about Miss Bates? Well she moved to Enscombe after her mother’s death and is very happily settled with Jane, Frank, and their new baby. She had no inclination to go to Bath.

List of Principal Characters

Caroline Bingley: sister to Charles Bingley (now married to Jane Bennet) and Mrs. Louisa Hurst. Parents deceased. Was trying to attract the attention of Mr. Darcy, who married Elizabeth Bennet instead.

Sir Walter Elliot: baronet, father of Elizabeth Elliot, Mrs. Anne Wentworth, and Mrs. Mary Musgrove. Wife deceased. Was forced to move to Bath because he was deeply in debt. A reconciliation with his cousin and heir, Mr. Elliot, turned out to be a ruse designed to keep him from remarrying.

Elizabeth Elliot: unmarried daughter of Sir Walter, largely due to wanting to marry her cousin, Mr. Elliot, the heir to the baronetcy and Kellynch Hall. Was also betrayed by her companion, Mrs. Clay, who was trying to seduce her father. Mrs. Clay ran off with Mr. Elliot.

Major Frederick Tilney: formerly Captain Tileny. Eldest son of General Tilney of Northanger Abbey and elder brother to Eleanor (now a vicountess) and Henry (now married to Catherine Moreland). He trifled with the engaged Isabella Thorpe and this resulted in Isabella’s engagement to Catherine’s brother being broken.

Nancy (Anne) Steele: sister to Lucy Ferrars (married to Robert Ferrars). Nancy was a constant companion to her younger, smarter sister. Lucy steals Nancy’s money to elope with Robert, leaving her stranded in London.

Tom Bertram: heir to a baronetcy and eldest brother to Edmund (now married to Fanny Price), Mrs. Julia Yates, and the disgraced and divorced Maria. Tom’s indulgence and gambling resulted in the loss of half of Edmund’s inheritance. After a near fatal illness, he has reformed.

1

Caroline

They (Caroline and Louisa) were in fact very fine ladies; not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank; and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. Pride and Prejudice Ch 4

                It must be a universal truth that the children of others are detestable and make their parents insufferable. Caroline Bingley had been dwelling on this thought for the last few weeks. Her sister, Louisa Hurst, had finally made good on the promise of her marriage and produced a healthy baby boy. Even with a proper nursey-maid, Louisa was far too besotted by her offspring to pay much attention to her sister. Caroline could leave town and return to her brother’s estate in Derbyshire, but she knew that there would be no improvement in society. Caroline’s last stay had been as horrid as her current situation: dear little Jane was everything.

                Mr. Hurst was not very taken with his child. He maintained the common, but unfatherly opinion among his sex, of all infants being alike. Caroline could almost believe that he had been indifferent to the idea of a son at all! His level of attachment to his child little mattered; he had always been poor company. Mr. Hurst at least provided some service in making his own sister, Mrs. Fraser, accompany Caroline to parties and balls, which Louisa no longer wished to do. That was all she could thank him for now.

                London had lost most of its charm to Caroline, there was no one who compared to Darcy among the ranks of idle heir-apparents and dashing gentlemen. Her choices seemed narrow. The men she had once considered were married and most of her female friends were as well. Of those she liked from school, only one had yet to achieve matrimony and that was on account of a drastic change in family circumstances. No one else with all of Caroline’s charm and fortune remained.

                “Four-and-twenty,” Caroline muttered to herself as she watched her sister dote upon her son. Louisa’s face was no longer quite so lovely, there were a growing number of lines across it. Caroline was five years younger than her sister; how much longer would it take for her to find her own establishment? She quickly reproached herself, she had been too idle! Since the disappointment of Darcy, she had not applied herself as she could. A woman of worth like Caroline needed only to fix on her number of thousands a year (within reason) and there can be no doubt of their coming.

                The post arrived and Caroline was pleased to see a letter from a dear friend, Mrs. Susan Taylor, who she knew from school. Susan had married at eighteen to an older man of good fortune, only for him to die, leaving her a generous jointure and no children. Susan had no interest in entering the married state again; she kept a small house in town and took part in whatever pleasures she chose. However, Susan had been in the country for some months. Her sister had recently delivered a child and begged for Susan’s assistance. Caroline opened the letter eagerly.

                Dearest Caroline,

                I am exhausted here in Surrey, I have never spent my time with people so dull and company so restricted! My sister, once a source of so many pleasant conversations and ideas, is entirely consumed by her baby. I have never seen such a change in a woman. She speaks of nothing by her Edward. She thinks of nothing but babe’s health. I have had no enjoyment these last weeks and I am in need of change.

                I have a grand scheme to spend some of the next season in Bath with you as my companion. I have secured accommodation for two months, though, if we should tire of the society there will be no cause to stay so long. Please tell me that you will come, I will be wretched without you! I am determined to have you engaged to a handsome gentleman by the time we quit Bath.

                Yours ever etc. Susan Taylor

                Caroline could not have been more pleased with the idea of removing to Bath. There was no pleasure elsewhere, not with all her sisters turned into mothers. She was beginning to think matrimony a duty, she only wanted a gentleman of fortune, maybe a title, but most certainly an eldest son. Caroline was sure she deserved everything she wished for, she was handsome, well-educated, and clever; and she did not have a fortune of twenty thousand pounds for nothing!

2

Sir Walter

Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot’s character; vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did, nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and devotion. Persuasion Ch 1

                Sir Walter Elliot, most properly of Kellynch Hall, but currently residing in Camden Place at Bath, was a troubled man. The book which had for his entire life of fifty-six years been his greatest comfort, the Baronetage, had become a constant source of displeasure. It had begun around the time of his second daughter’s engagement to the very proper Captain Frederick Wentworth, which had naturally resulted in an addition to the book. The event had at first been very pleasing to him but what followed had caused consternation. Mr. William Walter Elliot, his cousin, who had been the heir presumptive since the sad day of Lady Elliot’s death, had scorned his recent attachment to the family and Sir Walter’s dear daughter Elizabeth. Mr. Elliot had moved to London, and refused all further association with the family. Soon afterwards, Mrs. Clay, Elizabeth’s companion, had been discovered living under his protection.

                His wound had only deepened when his daughter Anne, seeing his distress, had unfolded the entirety of Mr. Elliot’s character to him. He was to learn that his own cousin despised him and his beloved Elizabeth, that he had only renewed the family connection to ensure his eventual inheritance of the baronetcy, and that Mrs. Clay had been working with Mr. Elliot for some unknown amount of time.

It did not suit Sir Walter’s vanity to be thus thrown off by a man who ought to be a dear family connection. His pride was wounded, his daughter Elizabeth insulted, and to gaze upon the name of so improper an heir now brought nothing but anger. The book was put away for the first time, in a drawer where perhaps its influence on Sir Walter would diminish, but it was not to be. He found himself searching it out again and again, turning to his own page and glaring at the line: heir presumptive Mr. William Walter Elliot.

                Sir Walter could not break the entail which settled Kellynch Hall and the title of baronet on Mr. Elliot and nor did he truly wish to, for to see any other man with less claim through blood in his place would be almost as much of an affront to his sensibilities. However, one option had always laid before him, one which pride and vanity had for many years prevented: Sir Walter could remarry. He fancied that he had not done so for the benefit of his dear daughters for these many long years. The reasoning had changed however: he worried now for Elizabeth’s fate. Suddenly recalling that she was one-and-thirty and that she would not have a kind relation in Mr. Elliot to care for her at Kellynch when Sir Walter, God forbid he think of it, was to die, he found himself spurred into action. Therefore, he was quite resolved, he ought to marry and Elizabeth ought to marry as well and as quickly as they could.

                He was determined to marry high, to a woman with fortune, title, character, education, pedigree, beauty, and youth. Fortunately for his chances, he happened to mention his scheme to Lady Russell on her yearly pilgrimage to Bath, Lady Russell recruited Mr. Shepherd, his agent and lawyer, and they visited Camden Place with a united purpose to cajole and reason Sir Walter into slightly lower expectations.

                “I presume to observe, Sir Walter,” Mr. Shepherd began, “That you, as Sir Walter Elliot of Kellynch Hall, offer so distinguished a pedigree, such a long line of noble sirs and ladies, that you might not require a wife of such distinguished heritage. Indeed, as long as she is the daughter of a gentleman, even if he is only a squire, she must become your equal through marriage. How can a woman who has entered into an alliance with yourself not become all that society would expect from her?”

                “You must also remember that my dear friend, the late Lady Elliot, was the daughter of a mere squire” Lady Russell added mildly, “She was a credit to your family, you must agree that she was in every way the lady that Kellynch deserved.”

                Sir Walter could say nothing to the contrary, for the late Lady Elliot had indeed been an excellent woman and a credit to the Elliot name. She had descended from an ancient family. Sir Walter had grown more prideful with age, he recalled now that he had thought little of her rank when he had made the offer of marriage. He had been deeply in love and she had been beautiful, nothing else had seemed to matter.

                “The late Lady Elliot was of excellent character, beauty, and education. Her family was beyond reproach,” he agreed.

                “A lady of such recommendations can certainly be found, I must take leave to say,” Mr. Shepherd continued, “You must consider that other great houses often find themselves in your particular situation. A woman of twenty thousand pounds or more, she has as much to recommend her as the daughter of a viscount who has retrenched.”

                Sir Walter agreed after some hesitation. He had in fact made an offer to the daughter of a viscount, not two years ago. It had been summarily refused.

                “My friend,” Lady Russell continued, “Am I not also a lady brought to higher respectability by her husband? Have you not considered myself as a respectable acquaintance?”

                Sir Walter was forced to speak on the merits of Lady Russell, for he did value her friendship and her attention towards his daughters. Lady Russell could not have chosen a better line of attack, for Sir Walter heard his own voice recall her many commendable attributes and there was no voice he believed more than his own. Lady Russell had long wished for Sir Walter to marry and secure the future of the family in better hands. It had been impossible, however, to mention such a plan when Sir Walter still held out hope for an alliance between his daughter and Mr. Elliot.

                Mr. Shepherd continued in his praise of the idea with zeal, “Consider also, Sir Walter, that with a proper dowry, and the right negotiation of the marriage articles, you might return to Kellynch the day of your wedding, perhaps even upon your engagement. You must be growing tired with the society in Bath and your return to Kellynch, with your current expenses, cannot occur for several more years.”

                “You will want a woman with experience managing a household,” Lady Russell offered, “For you are so used to have Elizabeth and she knows you well. Find a woman who has been doing the service for her father or brother, one very much like Elizabeth. Do not look too young, you know as well as I that a woman past eighteen still has many years in which to produce a son.”

                “Yes, this is true,” Sir Walter said. He believed they were correct. It would not be a great evil to find a wife who was slightly more advanced in years, though surely not above five-and-twenty! Sir Walter was not entirely honest with himself when it came to his age, but he knew he remained handsome. The six mirrors installed in his dressing room could not all lie. Thus was Sir Walter persuaded to set his sights rationally. He was determined to find himself a wife: she only needed to be beautiful, well-educated, and worth at least twenty thousand pounds.

                Lady Russell promised to give aid to her friend: to look about the town and find a few suitable ladies. Sir Walter, much as he worried about her diminishing looks, could not refuse her help. He had had nothing to do with matrimony for far too long. Anne’s marriage had happened without his help or hindrance. Lady Russell was a woman, she must know what she was about.

                Elizabeth was present for this discussion and surprised when suddenly she was subjected to the plan as well.

                “Dear Elizabeth, I would rather wish that nothing could take you from my home or protection, but the actions of your cousin have given me great cause for alarm. Your personal fortune will be comfortable, but not enough to maintain you in the style of living that you are accustomed and entitled to. I wish therefore, for you to join me in my pursuit, and find a suitable man to marry,” said Sir Walter.

                Elizabeth did not appear at all persuaded. Sir Walter turned to the others.

                Lady Russell was silent for some time. Mr. Shepherd seemed sure that Elizabeth might secure any man in the kingdom, but Lady Russell was far less sanguine. Elizabeth had less to recommend her than her father: her fortune was not small, that must be a temptation, but her manners were proud, her beauty ephemeral, and her mind uninformed. She had not youth or character, and at one-and-thirty, while not so very old, would be hardly proper for a young man wishing for a wealth of progeny. Lady Russell searched for the words to express what she felt without offending.

                “Elizabeth, you must consider your own tastes,” she finally said, “You have for so long lived with your father; a man of a certain age and manner. You will not want a young puppy! It must be disgusting to you to have to educate your husband as well as your children. No, you must want a man more established in life, who knows himself already. It can be no great evil besides, if he is a widower, for you must imagine he will be in great need of your services. A widowed man knows the true value of a woman who can keep his house.”

                Mr. Shepherd was happy to follow where Lady Russell had led, “I must observe that young men, the greatest portion of them, never understand what a necessity a proper wife is to their domestic comfort. They are happy to live in dirt and disarray without any thought to their dreadful circumstances. Lady Russell speaks wisely, a man who has known the comforts of a well-run home is desperate to return to them; quite determined to settle again.” They all thought this was rational argument enough and left Elizabeth to understand their wisdom.

3

Elizabeth Elliot

Thirteen years had seen her (Elizabeth) mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and directing with a self-possession and decision which could never have given the idea of her being younger than she was. For thirteen years had she been doing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at home, and leading the way to the chaise and four… she had the consciousness of being nine-and-twenty to give her some regrets and some apprehensions; she was fully satisfied of being still quite as handsome as ever, but she felt her approach to the years of danger, and would have rejoiced to be certain of being properly solicited by baronet-blood within the next twelvemonth or two. Persuasion Ch 1

                Elizabeth returned to her own room, after that mortifying discussion, angry at her father. She had only imagined one man to be worthy of her hand, her cousin Mr. Elliot. Her double disappointment on that front had been a near mortal blow to her wish for marriage. She knew, however, that her own fortune in the five percents it would hardly be enough to live on, even in Bath. Elizabeth did not attend to Lady Russell or her sister Anne, who had spoken on the same topic months ago, but she was willing to consider it for her father. She doubted however, that any man could truly be found.

                She paced her room irritably; she wanted to return to Kellynch with her father! The plan of economy had been working, they were hardly two years away from discharging their debts. Kellynch had always been Elizabeth’s home and while she had often wished to marry, she abhorred any diminishment to her importance.

                Elizabeth accepted that in one thing Lady Russell was right, she would not want to marry a young man still waiting for his inheritance; she deserved to command a great house. She deserved to command one, very specific great house. She loved herself and her home enough that her most ardent wish was that she would never have to change her name.

                Begrudgingly, Elizabeth listed the appropriate men who were at this time in Bath. She could not find a single prospect. There were a few second sons of varying ranks, but they could not depend on inheriting anything. She recalled there was one widowed baronet in town, five years older than her father, but he was, in Elizabeth’s opinion, uncommonly plain. She must merit a man as handsome as herself.

                No, the more she thought of it, the more impossible her marriage seemed. As much as she had some envy of her sisters, Anne and Mary, who were both well married, she considered both of their husbands inadequate for her current position in life. Unless she met someone very handsome, very rich, and titled, she would not deign to marry Maybe Mr. Elliot would tire of Mrs. Clay and finally do what he ought? Was that too much to hope for?

4

Tom Bertram

There was comfort also in Tom, who gradually regained his health, without regaining the thoughtlessness and selfishness of his previous habits. He was the better for ever for his illness. He had suffered, and he had learned to think: two advantages that he had never known before. Mansfield Park Ch 48

                Tom Bertram was supposed to be in Bath. His parents were hoping that taking the waters would help continue his improvement. Nearly two years after his injury and illness, he still was not quite the healthy young man he had been. He was also, to everyone’s boundless happiness, far less frivolous and irresponsible than before. Tom Bertram did feel the weight of family duty, he wanted to be a better son to his father; to be worthy of his eventual inheritance. Would his progress all be naught in his father’s eyes? Had the horse not slipped, had he not indulged for what he swore was the last time- but it was too late.

                He wanted to blame Yates, yes, it was that damned Yates who had invited him to town, under the pretence of seeing his sister. Julia was as she had ever been, more interested in fashion than family. Yates was the indulgent dandy he had always known, taking the best lodgings in town without a thought for the cost. They would be heavily in debt before long, Tom was sure. Yet, Tom was already in debt- but it was Yates’ fault! Yates had thought nothing of a little trip to the races, Yates did not care if he lost some money, he was sure he would win it back tomorrow.

                Tom could not return home, not with the amount he had lost. He would not bring pain to his father and Edmund again. Edmund, who was perfectly happy and settled now with little Fanny. Tom had already ruined Edmund’s inheritance once, he would not put the family in such danger again. Edmund, who had been so diligent in Tom’s care during the illness, when he would have been the greatest benefactor if Tom had died. It was a sobering thought, one that he ought to have had before he bet such a foolish amount.

                His parents rose in his mind. There was enough turmoil in the house without Tom adding to it. Aunt Norris’ departure, while welcome, had exposed just how very little his mother, Lady Bertram, was able to do. Suddenly supplies were left unordered, servants unpaid, and clothes in disrepair. Fanny and Susan tried to keep up with the demands of the household, but Susan was still inexperienced and Fanny had her own house to manage now. Perhaps Tom should return home, admit to his debts, and try and put the house back in order.

                No, Tom decided, he would proceed to Bath. If he could find an acceptable woman to be his wife, she could set everything right. His lodgings were already paid for two months, that must be enough time. He would do what any single man did in hard financial times, he would find a woman of fortune to marry. It had to be quick, but he would not settle for anything less than twenty thousand pounds.

5

Nancy Steele

Nothing escaped her (Nancy Steele’s) minute observation and general curiosity; she saw every thing, and asked every thing; was never easy till she knew the price of every part of Marianne’s dress; could have guessed the number of her gowns altogether with better judgment than Marianne herself, and was not without hopes of finding out before they parted, how much her washing cost per week, and how much she had every year to spend upon herself. The impertinence of these kind of scrutinies, moreover, was generally concluded with a compliment… for after undergoing an examination into the value and make of her gown, the colour of her shoes, and the arrangement of her hair, she was almost sure of being told that upon “her word she looked vastly smart, and she dared to say she would make a great many conquests.” Sense and Sensibility Ch 36

                No one who had ever seen Nancy Steele in her life would have supposed her born to be a heroine. Her situation in life, her silliness, her poor manners, her own person and disposition, were all equally against her. The only small claim that she had was that she was an orphan, but this must not have been enough to make her interesting. She never could learn or understand anything before she was taught; and sometimes not even then. She was often inattentive and had trouble understanding what was required of her. However, not everything was against Nancy’s character, she was rather caring, eager to please, and loyal to those who showed her kindness.

                Nancy was in her small chamber at Camden Place, arranging her clothes. She checked to make sure there was not a tear in her best muslin (eight shillings per yard), ensured that the new stitching was straight on her second best frock (five shillings per yard), and wondered if she ought to discard her worst gown (seven shillings per yard, but two years old) or tear up for rags. She needed to maintain appearances!  She had met Miss Elliot during a visit to Bath and spoken so ardently of their being cousins, as Lucy had taught her, that Miss Elliot had decided to welcome her to their home at Camden Place. She had been living with them, as Miss Elliot’s friend and companion, for nearly two years now. Miss Elliot had never attempted to verify Nancy’s claim of kinship, which was all the better since Nancy was fairly certain that no connection existed.

                The future had once looked very bright for Nancy. Her younger sister had married and she was invited to their home, after a small debacle involving some stolen money. She watched Lucy, with all her clever words, reclaim her husband’s favour with his mother. Nancy imagined that she could forever claim a home with Lucy, but it was not to be. She could not live in the same house as a man who despised her. Mr. Robert Ferrars, when he found himself alone with Nancy, would take out an overly fine toothpick case and say things to her that confirmed every fear she had within her own heart. To him, she was everything ugly, vulgar, and old. She only stayed for two months.

                Nancy missed her sister terribly. Why had Lucy not married Edward? They might have been less wealthy, but Edward was far more kind than his brother. Nancy tried not to dwell on the past, at least she had managed to talk her way into a new home. Lucy had taught her well. Yet, despite not really liking the Elliots, Nancy had been too unsure of her skill to make another attempt; she also suspected that Miss Elliot might be more than uncommonly stupid.

                She had resided at Camden Place for some time, but she knew it was not a home. There was no permanency here. Miss Elliot had for some time spoken about finding Nancy a husband; had talked of improving her manners and making her acceptable to a gentleman of a few hundred a year. Nothing had come of it; she had never seemed interested in following through on her promise. Nancy had overheard Sir Walter’s intentions for Miss Elliot. She doubted that once married Miss Elliot would need her. Nancy was going to have to find a husband of her own.

                Nancy did not have very high expectations for matrimony, she was, after all, one-and-thirty and only had a thousand pounds to her name. The bulk of her income was always spent on her wardrobe; Lucy always said that no one would invite them in if they wore rags. She did not know who would marry an older woman with little fortune who was always saying the wrong thing, but she had to try. He only needed to treat her better than Robert Ferrars, would that be so hard to find?

6

Major Frederick Tilney

Captain Tilney, was expected almost every hour, she was at no loss for the name of a very fashionable-looking, handsome young man, whom she had never seen before, and who now evidently belonged to their party. She looked at him with great admiration, and even supposed it possible that some people might think him handsomer than his brother, though, in her eyes, his air was more assuming, and his countenance less prepossessing. Northanger Abbey Ch 16

                Major Frederick Tilney, handsome, clever, and rich, with a large future inheritance and a frivolous disposition, thought he united some of the best blessings of existence. However, circumstances had arisen to put all of this in danger. Somehow, General Tilney had learned about his affair with Isabella Thorpe, and the General was livid. Frederick was hardly welcome at home; his father expected certain principles to be followed. An assignation with a servant or lady of certain character would have gone unmentioned, but for him to have seduced a girl from the gentility… Frederick had tried to defend himself, was the lady not playing a dangerous game herself? Had he not saved poor Catherine’s brother from a very imprudent match? He had not done anything that she herself had not invited!

                His first thought was to discover who had been the source of the report. It seemed that the general gossip about Isabella and her possible child did not include himself, so the whole story was not widely known. Someone must have told the General directly. The most likely suspects were all obviously innocent. His brother, Henry, avoided the subject whenever possible, the pious preacher. Catherine, his wife, had very few words for Frederick at all. She must still be hurt for her brother, who had been engaged to Isabella. This might have made her a prime suspect, but it could not be her as she was not friendly with the General. While General Tilney had come to accept Catherine as Henry’s choice; it was not the choice he would have made for his second son and everyone understood that. Frederick’s sister, the new viscountess, was likewise excused, she was far away and happy.

                That left the Thorpes themselves, he would not put it past them. Isabella’s reputation was already ruined, her second sister had been lucky enough to marry an attorney, Isabella herself and the youngest remained unmarried. Frederick would not put it past John Thorpe to talk, he was always talking and saying nothing at the same time. If he could prove it was Thorpe something might be done (be it only revenge), but Frederick had been in the company of some indiscreet friends of his own during that trip to Bath. It was impossible to know.

                Frederick had eventually realized that the original source of the report was immaterial: the damage was done. As much as he might desire revenge, it would not heal the breach between him and his father. General Tilney demanded that he marry, to secure the future and safeguard the family honour. Frederick almost laughed when he thought of it, he knew many a man with a worse reputation than himself, despite them being married for years! Yet, why not marry? Even his father had seemed happier when Frederick’s mother was alive, though Frederick wondered if his father ever was truly happy. He seemed like the man who would inherit a kingdom and then look over his fellow monarch’s shoulder to compare their wealth.

                The truth, as little as Frederick wished to admit it, was that if he did not follow his father’s will, he might lose his fortune. Northanger Abbey and its great wealth was not entailed. Without the favour of his father, Frederick might have nothing at all. His brother Henry’s marriage had been frightening enough, his brother had nearly been cut off from everything! Frederick had already been deprived of the indulgence and idleness of a normal oldest son; forced to accept the mortification of a career. He would not lose now what he had worked so hard to obtain!

                Frederick finally made his mind up: he would go to Bath to find a wife. It had worked so well for Henry, after all. He only needed a woman who was intelligent, no, that might not do. Beautiful for certain, but maybe just educated enough to keep a house. Intelligent… enough. Enough that she might not object to or even notice a few… indiscretions. Definitely young. She would need to be passably rich for his father to accept her at all. The perfect woman might be hard to find.

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