Return to Sanditon - A Novella

~ Four ~

Beechwood Court, country estate of Lord and Lady Babington, Surrey

"Welcome, Sidney, Crowe!" Lord Babington welcomed his friends with enthusiastic handshakes. "So good of you to spare some time to visit." Turning to Sidney, he grinned, "I thought you'd be tied up like a brace of pheasants in wedding preparations."

"Babington," Sidney replied, "Thank you for the invitation and no; indeed, I am entirely superfluous to the elaborate spectacle." A hint of bitterness creeping into his smooth baritone. "Indeed, my only role is to arrive at the appointed time and repeat the words like an animated puppet. But alas, I have freedom for a day or two and intend to make the most of it. Where do you keep the brandy, man?"

"Fine idea, Parker. A country house visit can only be tolerated by the inclusion of fine spirits. I'm assuming there are no other entertainments to tempt now that you have been leg shackled, Babington?" Crowe looked expectantly at his host who shook his head with a laugh, "No, didn't think so. Brandy it is then!"

Once settled in his study, the sumptuous furnishings rich and welcoming, Babington poured three glasses of brandy and regarded his companions. Crowe, like Sidney, he had known since Eton, was every bit the dissolute gentleman, but with a heart of gold and was a surprisingly astute student of human nature. In fact, it was thanks to Crowe and his concern for their friend, Sidney, that Babington had extended this invitation to visit. Esther, Lady Babington was visiting her aunt, Lady Denham in Sanditon and thus provided the perfect opportunity to probe a little into Sidney's woes. From this short encounter, Sidney did indeed look as if he bore the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

The distressing events of midsummer, followed closely by news of his unexpected and rather expedient engagement, had left Babington wondering what exactly was afoot. He felt a twinge of guilt for not noticing sooner, but alas, the whirlwind of his own courtship and marriage had obliterated all else from his notice.

"So, my friend, how goes the life of a married man?" Sidney accepted the glass of brandy and reclined deeply in the leather fireside chair. His question seemed polite enough, thought Babington, but he had undeniably heard the slight edge in his voice that had caught on the word 'married'.

"Good," he replied, unable to keep the joy from his own response, "Magnificent, in fact. Esther manages to surprise me every day."

"I'm pleased for you," Sidney smiled earnestly. "I'm glad you found your happy ending, Babington, truly." Sidney tipped his head back and downed his drink in one long swallow.

"What of you, Sidney? Are you going to achieve your own happy ending? I can think of no better reason to enter into the state of matrimony, than because it is your heart's desire?" Babington studied Sidney.

As his words began to sink in, a bleak expression clouded his friends face, before he quickly shuttered the expression to one of nonchalance. Sidney was fooling no one, however.

Unable to help himself, a mirthless laugh escaped Sidney before he responded, "Happy? And what right have I to expect happiness, may I ask?"

Sidney sprang to his feet, unable to be still, he paced.

"Oh, no dear Babington, my expectations are not so intangible as that. Indeed, I expect to live a life of daily reparation in a comfortably gilded cage of my own design." He moved to the sideboard to refill his glass. With back turned to his friends, Sidney clenched his teeth to prevent himself from any further betraying remarks.

Eliza had made him promise obedience, and he would try his best not to reveal the depths he had gone to, to salvage his family and himself from ruin. Eliza had demanded that no one - not one single, solitary soul, should ever learn of his disdain for her and her willingness to override and trample upon his feelings, hopes and dreams. Her money would restore Sanditon and allow his family to retain their social standing and reputation. In return, she would have bought herself a husband. It had seemed so straight forward; clinical even. Until he'd had to tell Charlotte of his decision. Pain lanced his chest, but he refused to ignore it any longer. That day had almost destroyed him.

Once, there was a time, in his youth, that Eliza had brought him to his knees. She had broken their engagement in favour of a richer, older man and in the process, she had forever shattered their first, juvenile love. He had spent the best part of ten years mourning its loss until he had met the infuriatingly lovely, Charlotte Heywood. Charlotte had chipped away at his armour and refused to give up until his heart and his soul were open once more.

Turnaround now, I suppose, he thought miserably. Now he was the fortune hunter. Ah, but Charlotte, he couldn't bring himself to revert to Miss Heywood - not in his mind at least, Charlotte has seen the truth and understood. She refused to shout and scream about the unfairness of his actions and instead had retreated in dignified maturity. It was he who had wanted to scream and throw things and beg her endlessly for her forgiveness. Saying goodbye for the final time had been the most vital and soul-destroying act of self-flagellation he could imagine. Her unwillingness to think badly of him had served as the final blow to his self-respect. Yet, he had let her go without ever knowing how close he had come to chasing after her carriage and begging her to stay.

Across the room, Crowe raised his eyebrows in a silent 'I told you so' to Babington. Tension palpable, they waited an interminable time, allowing Sidney to return from the place that his thoughts had taken him.

At last, Sidney turned and viewed his friends before him, faces filled with concern. He knew then that he couldn't keep this from them, promise or no. Good god, they'd known him since his time in short pants. He suspected they already had a suspicion that all was not well. He turned abruptly and grabbed the bottle of fine French brandy then approached the pair.

"If I am ever going to explain, then we will need to finish this before the tale is through," he said, motioning to the bottle in his hand, before telling his friends all.