Work Text:
When Mr. Henry Tilney introduces himself, his Christian name reverberates through Catherine's mind. Henry. Oh, but what if he is her Henry, the one whose confident childish scrawl cuts diagonally across the inner skin of her arm, hidden by the fetching ribbon that is tied carefully and modestly around her wrist? If he were to push back the sleeve of his coat, would she catch a glimpse of her own penmanship, her own name, inked into his arm?
Her heart is caught in her throat, rendering her speechless, and she feels a flush on her cheeks that is a result of more than the heat of the sad crush around them. It is a common name, after all. There is no reason to think he is anything other than a kind gentleman who found a seat for Mrs. Allen and herself.
Yet when Mrs. Allen introduces herself and Catherine, Mr. Tilney's face turns towards hers with a speed and perspicacity that makes Catherine's breath stutter in her chest. Oh, but what if she is not wrong about the name on his wrist?
"A pleasure," he says politely, "Miss Catherine Morland," and his eyes do not leave hers, and surely she cannot be imagining the way he lingers on her Christian name. His mouth curves into a smile so welcoming and so affectionate that Catherine smiles back, helplessly.
He takes her hand in his, daringly, and bends over her ribbon-covered wrist, brushing the cloth ever so gently with his lips.
"Oh --" Catherine gasps, and Mr. Tilney smiles at her again.
"Such a pleasure," he repeats, "to meet you at last."