Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

61

At the Garden's Periphery — Hemlock Hall

The hedgerow had swallowed him whole: Arthur Parker, propped against the fountain pool, the fear marked upon his face; so determined to save her when he was so clearly the one in need of saving. And now, there was nothing left of him: nothing but a tangle of leaves and branches, Otis's breathing quick and unsteady upon her neck as he carried her, still.

They approached a lane at the far edge of the gardens. Box hedges had given way to elongated rows of viburnum; the grass pounded down by horse hooves and deep furrows from carts that had travelled this way. A line of trees stood off in the distance, separating the impeccably tamed from the wild, branches reaching and retreating as the ground beneath them pulsed, the swish of viburnum like static as it caught Otis as the ankle and knee.

That pulse, steady as a drum, had followed them, echoing through the hedgerow, accelerating as Otis altered direction until there was but one option left: to run, fast as Otis's feet could carry them, as far as his breath and body would allow.

Someone was pursuing them, and they would not be outrun. She knew that, now — could sense it with every thought, every glance at the promise of shelter that dangled before them. And through it all, there with every beat, every fresh blow to the earth beneath them, was Arthur as she had left him, pale and shivering in the moonlight: never to be removed from her mind, even as Otis's footing faltered and his breath stopped.

She had forsaken him. Had left him alone to bear whatever was to come.

And this, she thought, her eyes upon the line of trees that they would never reach... this would be her punishment.

It had blocked out the light: a great figure rising above them, shrieking and steaming as it barrelled past with a thunderous force.

And she felt nothing but the air, cold and weightless, enveloping her as she flew, stripping away the last of the warmth in the place where Otis's arms had been.

Georgiana struck the lane, her body skipping across its grooves, feeling the fresh sting of scraped flesh as it punctured, great pangs coursing from ankle to hip. And that greater force beneath, sending shocks through the earth.

Tremors ran over her skin as her eyes fluttered, her hearing stifled.

And the world went darker, still.