Archive of Our Own ^beta

'How hard could it be?' Henry climbed up that tree so easily! It can't be that difficult.

Catherine imagined the women in her books, their skirts rustling as they ran through the woods, trying to escape their pursuers. One of them would certainly climb up a tree to hide in the branches, hidden by bushes of leaves.

The thought was too exciting for her. She glanced briefly to the right and left, but nobody was coming down into Northanger Abbey's gardens. General Tilney was still away, Eleanor was taking a nap, and Henry was studying some documents. Eagerly biting her lip, Catherine gathered her skirt at the waist and bunched it up, freeing her legs. She reached for the higher branch and braced her feet against the rough bark. She climbed up onto the first branch, and with a suppressed squeal, reached for an apple to celebrate her escape from the ground.

Leaning against the tree trunk, Catherine closed her eyes and took another bite of the apple, her legs dangling from the branch. The feeling was amazing, and she loved the wildness of her mischief.

“Are you depriving our tree?”

Henry's mildly amused voice caught her off guard, and, startled, she tried to hide the apple behind her back. Trying to sit like a lady, she lost her balance and, before she could realise what was happening, slipped from the branch, her arms flailing as she tried to hold on. Missing her grip, she dropped with a wild shriek, only to be caught by two strong arms.

She wasn't sure what was more embarrassing: the fact that Henry Tilney had caught her in the act of her silly daydream, or the fact that she was pressed against his chest — like a bride.

The thought was too exciting for her.