The Very Secret Diary of Henry Tilney, Part the Fourth
It’s been much too long, I know, but in honor of Valentine’s Day, the pairs skating short program in the Winter Olympics, and oh yeah, the rebroadcast of NADublin, at last we finish this one up. For those new to AustenBlog, previous entries in Mr. Tilney’s Very Secret Diary may be found here: Part the First, Part the Second, Part the Third
Day 19: Big storm last night. V. picturesque. Eleanor and I cleaned out nest of undead hiding in the offices. Bit tired this morning, not up to flirting with Miss M. Fortunately the governor’s taken himself off to London. Time for training to start in earnest.
Day 20: Took Miss M. to Woodston. Was v. excited about showing her training facility disguised as “cottage” in orchard. Remembered at last minute that vampyres killed housekeeper whilst incompetent curate was cowering under bed and place is a mess. Contented self with sort of pointing at house as we rode past. Oh well, it’s not like I’m going to marry her or anything.
Day 21: Found one of those sparkly American vampyres swanning round the hermitage walk in broad daylight. Gave me some bollocks about being a “vegetarian.” As though I haven’t heard that one before. Whinged about having the skin of a monster until one was positively embarrassed for it and staked it out of compassion.
Day 22: Am having difficulty communicating facts of Abbey and her destiny to Miss M. She seems to understand something is going on, but just as I am about to tell her something important, I turn it into a joke. I don’t know why, though after all, a secret explained loses all of its charm. Perhaps am just obsessed with being the wittiest. Perhaps am just a simp.
Day 23: Emergency message from curate; must make trip to Woodston. Eleanor promised to explain all to Miss M. while I am away.
Later: Incompetent curate incapable of coping with one young vampyre. Took care of it. Too bad Miss M. not quite ready, as it would have been excellent for training. Found Collins in old-womanish hysteria, no longer wants to be curate. Says he has obtained a new situation far from hellmouth. Probably for the best, though I’ve heard strange things about Rosings.
Day 24: Returned to Abbey, found Miss M. skulking about near Mamma’s room. Questioned her, discovered she has completely misunderstood the governor’s idiotic comments. Somehow thinks she has stumbled into a Radcliffe novel instead of proper hellmouth. Not the time to explain properly, so acted like prat and made her cry. Am so not the wittiest.
Later: Should have been more understanding. If not prepared to tell Miss M. that she is The One and has a special destiny, should have led her gently; should have appealed to her good common sense and her understanding, should have called her “dearest Miss Morland.” Daresay that’s a bit subtle for a 90-minute low-budget telemovie, so only thing to do now to save situation: marry Miss M. But first, back to Woodston to redecorate sitting-room.
Day 25: Letter waiting for me at Woodston. Freddy says he has “neutralized” the succubus. Probably stole her shoes as well.
Day 26: Arrived back at Abbey, ready to offer hand, heart, and newly-papered sitting room to Miss M. only to find the governor came back unexpectedly and has tossed her out on word of werewolf. I’m done with him. Vampyres had a positive party in the shrubbery. Eleanor and I were up half the night cleaning up. Must go after Miss M.
Day 27: Arrived at Fullerton. Explained all about Abbey being hellmouth to Miss M. She has agreed to marry me nonetheless. Should be an excellent situation for training. Snogging in shrubbery also quite agreeable.
Day 28: Low-budget telemovie, blah de blah, parental scruples, blah de blah, months of clandestine correspondence, blah de blah, rush rush rush, blah de blah. Things are moving fast. Good thing sitting-room redecoration is well in hand.
Day 29: To begin perfect happiness at 18 and 26 is to do pretty well. Miss M.–that is, my dearest Catherine—and I shall endeavour to cope as we breed our own little team of vampyre slayers.
And a thousand points that don’t mean anything to the first person who recognizes the two references in the LOLAusten.