Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

60

A wave of shock tightened the muscles through hip and torso, down to the hand that was splayed out on the ground supporting him. He had landed on his knees, water pooling around him as he waited for the sharp bolt of pain that would surely come — enough to make the ringing in his ears return — so prominent as to nearly overtake his bearings. A flash of green came into focus, then. It moved in waves: washing into him, and receding.

"Charlotte—" he closed his eyes, hearing her drop at his side.

"Sidney, I... I have to see if—"

The pool of water trembled beneath him, rippling outwards. "Sidney, I have to—" her voice caught as she pulled at his other hand, clutched tightly at his side.

But he continued to stare, transfixed at his hand submerged, as the ripples faded away around it, the movement of the water subdued to a half-hearted stirring. Dark threads circled his fingers; coiling, then dissipating. And he could not resist following them, upwards to the trail so vivid as it pooled, the arm outstretched and stiff — to the shirt where spots of crimson had bloomed. He stiffened, too, at the sight of it. For it might have been him, lying there so still with not a breath of this world left. It might have been her.

Charlotte's skirts washed into him again and he looked back — drawn to the place below her chin, to the marks forming rapidly at her throat.

My God, it might have been her.

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The Fountain Court:

"How many times must I say it? I will not leave without him."

"Then they will discover us with ease," Otis's eyes pierced through the darkness, and Georgiana glared back, her arm hooked defiantly through Arthur's as she tried to lift him from the cobblestones again.

"If you would only just help me," she said in Otis's direction, "we might have been well past the hedgerow by now."

Otis looked back at her, peeling his eyes away from the lantern's glow as it moved steadily from one window to the next inside the house, "Can't you see we are beyond that, now." There was a soft incredulity to his voice that hadn't been there earlier, "Even in the best of circumstances—"

"No," she spouted, suddenly unwilling to hear another word, "Do not speak it."

"It's true," came a voice from below and she thought even then how little it sounded like the voice she had come to know. "Georgiana," Arthur's eyes were bright as he looked up at her, "... I am in no state to walk." And as his eyes strayed back to his leg, she found that she could not bear to follow the path.

"Then," Georgiana said, swallowing to release the strain in her throat, "I will stay."

"Stay?" Otis shook his head, letting out a breath, "You would play into her trap so willingly?"

"You know the way to the neighbouring estate and I've no fear of Mrs Campion," Georgiana said.

"Georgiana, you must go..." Arthur's chin trembled, "It is the only way... the only option left to keep you safe."

"I'm perfectly capable of—"

"She knows that you would not leave me behind," Arthur said, more quickly, "She is depending upon it. Please..." She felt his hand grip onto her sleeve, "Please don't make me watch what she might do to you. I... I couldn't bear it."

She felt the warm trail of a tear, carving out a path for those that would follow it. The light had come into view as it turned the last corner, growing in intensity as Arthur looked up at her. "I didn't regret my decision for a moment, you know..." he breathed in swiftly, a sad smile crossing his lips, "To know that you had some chance of finding your way back... away from this place... it was enough. It will be enough."