The rumbling of the carriage thudded dully in his skull. But Sidney considered hisself lucky that his stomach no longer wanted to carry his breakfast back up at the slightest bump. That bitter chewing tobacco that Mr Heywood had wordlessly handed him when they had met outside the house early that morning, worked wonders.
At first Sidney had thought his outrageous, dishonourable behaviour towards Miss Heywood had caused her father to be taciturn and stiff. But as soon as they were on the path that led to the core of the village, he realised the real reason. Mr Heywood was struggling with his stomach and a headache himself, and in no way wanted to back down from the disapproving looks of his wife who was watching them from the front door. He walked with quick steps, stiff as if he had swallowed a stick, until he stopped at a curve in the road.
"Now she can't see any more." He grumbled, yet he looked around once more as if he feared she would come up behind him armed with a gun.
"She found me at my desk." he began slowly, "Thank you for shoving this pillow under my head." He smiled weakly over at him before propping himself up on his knees and taking a deep breath. Sidney did the same.
"My young friend...," Mr Heywood slowly straightened up and reached for Sidney's arm, "I'll give you some good advice: never, and I mean never, show your wife that you're unwell if you've had too much to drink the night before."
He looked at Sidney so penetratingly that Sidney could only nod mutely and stifle an amused smile.
"She will make you suffer even more otherwise! They know no mercy." Mr Heywood seemed as serious as if he were talking about an invading army. "She did bring me a cup of tea, but then ripped open the curtains, moved furniture and allowed the children to be extra noisy! Exactly today she must then also be tossing pots around or whatnot!"
Mr Heywood took a few deep breaths through his mouth. Glancing off into the distance, he remarked more to himself than to Sidney, "Right arrogant she is then." He smiled and now didn't seem annoyed at all, more enraptured. "And cheeky... yes, really downright cheeky."
Sidney felt that little twinge of envy. He realised that he wanted the same thing. A wife who stood by you in good times and bad. A woman who stood by you in good times and bad. Who reads you the riot act and can still enchant you with it. A certain image formed in his mind, he was sure that a certain person could also become quite cheecky if he did something she disliked. When he really became aware of what he was thinking, he closed his eyes in disbelief.
When he opened them again, Mr Heywood gave him a friendly smile and then marched on, albeit a little slower. The relief that had flooded Sidney at that moment was so refreshing that he could almost have been cheerful. If his physical condition hadn't prevented him from doing so. Or, the condition of his soul.
Apparently Charlotte had not told her parents about the unseemly encounter in the kitchen that night. He was glad of that, but Sidney also wondered how he could ever face her again. What he had said, or the part he could remember, had been so impertinent that he honestly wondered why she had protected him and not given him a sharp slap. He would have deserved it. Even if every single word that had passed his alcohol-deaf lips was true.
When he closed his eyes, he still saw her in front of him. With that look that expressed concern and confusion and warmed him inside like a cosy fire. He still saw her eyes widen as he had almost touched her cheek. Astonishment, but not aversion, was in them. And that had so amazed him, even frightened him, that he had preferred to clench his fist and pull back.
Would she really have let him? Was he allowed to touch her? Was he even allowed to think about doing it? But most of all he wondered if her cheek would burn under his touch.
