Page 52 of The Austen Affair
I’m not a talented rider. Not my expertise.
But I ride at a gallop, thrown low against my stolen horse’s mane, until I reach the high, flat field Hugh and I were transported to when we first arrived in this place.
Lightning cracks dangerously overhead—which is exactly what I want.
Except for Highground, this is the part of Hampshire I’ve seen that’s closest to the sky.
Hugh finds me, as I knew deep down he would. When it came down to it, there was no room in me for second-guessing. I knew that if I ran, he would follow. He would choose me.
And by bringing him here, under this flashing sky, these pitch-black clouds, I hope that I’ve also chosen what’s best for him.
I may not be much of a rider, but Hugh Balfour is.
He crests the great hill on horseback like a true romance hero.
He dismounts and takes me in his arms. I’m soaked through, and so is he.
Even wrapping ourselves into each other won’t solve the bone-deep chill.
My hair hangs limp and wet down my back now, and in his rush to kiss me, my bonnet is knocked askew.
His hat is likely ruined by the torrents of rain.
We are disheveled messes, but we are disheveled messes together.
“You came,” I say, as we break apart for air.
“Of course I did, you lunatic.” Hugh laughs. “We’re a team.” Then he adds, as if he couldn’t bear to keep it to himself for another second, “And not to mention, I’m just dead-gone in love with you.”
I stand on tiptoes, pressing the bridge of my forehead against his.
I breathe my answer into his mouth, cold air puffing out around us from the source of the confession.
“I love you more than I thought was possible for me. I thought I’d been in love lots of times, but now I know that was just infatuation.
And then, the big terrible happened, and I wasn’t sure I could love again, full stop. ”
“Not possible,” Hugh says. “Not possible for the Tess Bright whose heart is so open and big not to love again. Everything you do shows me how much you love the world.”
Happy tears roll down my face, mingling with the rain. I kiss him again, and I wonder if my lips taste like salt. “I love you. I love you so much, and I want to be with you— wherever you need to be. I don’t want the past. I want a future with you.”
Hugh nods, his large hands cupping my ears as if he’s trying to warm them up.
“We’ll find our way to the future. Or… or…
we won’t. We’ll try, but if we can’t get there, that’s not going to stop us from having a spectacular life together, all right?
” He clears his throat, shouting through the sublime noise of the storm overhead.
“You were right all along. There was a reason. Unless the universe is random, messy, chaotic to the exclusion of all order and sense—which I refuse to accept—there had to be a purpose to us coming here. I think our purpose was to find each other, and love each other, and make a home. Wherever and when ever that is.”
I nod, shaking all over with excitement and cold and the longing to pour myself into him again.
“Hell,” Hugh adds. “We’ve got two horses, and Aunt Fanny has our goodbye letter. I’ll take you to Gretna Green right now. Get wedded quick and dirty like the absolute scandals we are.”
I laugh, kissing him again—partly because I’m grateful but also because I just can’t stop.
“I just want to warn you,” I say, “it’s going to get messy. I love you so much, but I’m a fixer-upper.”
Hugh grins, caressing my cheek. “Oh, my love. Mess is where the good stuff lives.”
And that is when the sky breaks open in a searing flash of light. It happens too fast for us to see the bolt crashing down on us. I just know that my lips are on his, my arms thrown around his shoulders, his hands clutching my waist, when I feel the hair raise on the back of his neck.
There is a tremendous amount of screaming from the production crew.
But Hugh and I don’t pay them any mind. We are still latched to one another, his cool fingers stroking my neck, my hips straddling his frame.
I know he has breath because he’s breathing directly into my mouth, my lungs, and that he is alive is all that matters.
I don’t know how long it is before Dominic, the director, cursing up a storm to rival the one that rages above us, pulls me off him.
Katie, the costume assistant who’d been assigned to monitor me, pulls me off the muddy ground, bemoaning the many stains that now decorate her powder-blue cloak.
“Are you two out of your fucking minds?” Dominic demands, his face ruddy with horror. “Has the shock melted your brains? Or did you two forget you hate each other?”
I search out Hugh’s brilliant, shining eyes, and when our gazes connect, he throws his head back in a rare, uninhibited laugh. Katie is still trying to beat some of the mud off my skirt, muttering about a “bloody HR nightmare.”
“Oh no,” I trill in Dominic’s direction. “I think you’ll find Hugh and I are very fond of each other.”
“In fact,” Hugh says, loudly, so the entire crew can hear above the thunder and the rain, “I’ve been thinking of asking Miss Bright to marry me.”
@Variety: “Northanger Abbey review: A lighthearted, lesser-known Austen is elevated to greatness by the sizzling chemistry of its romantic leads”
@NorthangerAbbeyOfficial:
@makeatomelette: unpopular opinion, yes I STILL think Tess Bright’s face is too modern, but gd it if the eye contact between her and Hugh Balfour wasn’t pure sex
@Half_Agony: Pulling teeth to admit I’m wrong, but… Northanger Abbey had no right to be as good as it was. I’m devastated, and to comfort myself I will be bingewatching NA four more times in a row
@RosingsParkour: Actually why did Catherine Morland adjusting Henry Tilney’s ascot make me see god though??? Yeah, she fixed it but you KNOW she just wanted to rip it off
@People: Hugh Balfour and Tess Bright spotted holding hands following a coffee run outside the Balfour family home in Crouch End, London
@PageSix: Blind Item: What recent co-stars got hitched in Scotland’s Gretna Green after wrapping filming?