Sanditon Season 2: The River and the Man

Chapter 141

Charlotte had awoken early the next morning before everyone. Little sleep had left her tossing and turning the entire night in depression over missing the funeral. She had gone straight to write a letter to Esther and Lady Worcester upon rising.

She had listened to the crackling fire in her father's study fireplace as she accounted for the reasons she had been taken from Sanditon to her friends who were still likely ignorant of Sir Edwards ill-timed meddling.

In truth, she did not entirely blame her father for his actions. It was the very reason she was putting off writing to them. Charlotte had been unsure how much she should tell them. They had never known until last night that she had been very nearly engaged to Sidney. Having wanted to keep them both on a need to know stance, after all the happenings at Sanditon for fear of their disapproval. Though stimulating Sanditon every bit as different to Willingden as her father had cautioned her nearly a year before. And she was almost ashamed to say that she loved it and felt more welcoming to her than her own once cherished home.

As she heard the house waking up she fetched the gun and left before facing them. She was too angry to speak to any of them or endure the endless questions of her siblings as they tried to find out why she had come home and why their parents were so very upset.

As she tromped her familiar path she thought of just leaving on foot. She shook her head thinking it a bit juvenile. It was not like she was running off to elope.

Lady Worcester had assured her she believed she would be back in a fortnight. She was often right about these things.

Aiming for a rabbit she shot suddenly and shook her head. She was out of practice and the gun had felt very heavy in her arms and had hurt her shoulder.

Hunger gnawed at her stomach and she wished she felt the inclination to join her family for breakfast but she thought not. She was far from good company. Coming to the stone bridge she jumped up and sat on the ledge looking down at the little river, more a brook, or a creek, but in the spring it swelled the banks and was as it was now.

She could see the rushing water and it filled her ears as she thought of all that had happened in just a year. The sound of the water made it so she did not hear her father's approach. She startled as she saw him out of the corner of her eye.

"Be calm chicken," he said softly. A pet name he had once called her when she was just a young child.

She could not hold back the nostalgic smile she had come to her face.

"Haven't called me that since I was a girl," she said looking out at the horizon. The sun was high enough that the rooster had stopped his crowing.

He nodded and joined her in the viewing of the natural scene before them. "Yes, I do believe you might have been thirteen." he reminisced. "It was the last time you were so angry with me."

She sighed and nodded. "If I recall you called me a chicken in front of Lord Hambly's son."

Her father chuckled. "I knew right then you were sweet on the boy."

Charlotte shook her head. "Yes, then he pushed me in the creek here and that shocked me to my senses." She turned and looked at him.

He laughed and turned. "Next chance you got you threw that puffed up fool in wearing his newest suit from London."

Charlotte shrugged. "He called me Chicken."

He chuckled. "I suppose it was not the right name for you. But it was only because you had these scrawny little legs when you were little." he shrugged. "It's not my fault you grew into them, and out of the name."

Looking back at the river she shook her head. "That is what children do, grow up, and out." she sighed sadly."

He shook his head. "Sometimes a plant can grow too big too fast and a stiff breeze can knock it clear over. I just wanted to make sure you were capable."

She looked at him. "I am, father. More than you could probably ever know because you never like to travel more than five miles from home."

He nodded. "That may be true." he leaned over. "You know... I never wanted to think ill of you. Indeed I sat in my study reading the letter thrice over thinking about the contents of and I could not imagine any ulterior motive besides concern over your reputation. You kept your life in Sanditon quite a secret in some area's and I grew concerned that with all your intelligence that you were cunning, and concealing things from us."

She looked down ashamed. "I was a little." the confession drawing tears to her eyes. "But I have not acted in any way that I should be ashamed of. If I concealed things it is because I neither wanted to be a gossip or pass judgment of others to those close to me." she wiped at her eyes. "I once thought I had a sound judgment of a person, I have since learned that some people are not all as they seemed to be."

Her father nodded and grunted. "I can understand that," he said seriously. "I am sorry you are to miss Lady Denham's funeral. In your letters, you always spoke very highly of her. Perhaps even more so than the Lady Worcester."

Wiping her eyes she nodded. "I never met anyone like her. Strong, powerful. She said her mind even when she was wrong but could later own her mistakes. I suppose I wish to be like her." she muttered.

Her father patted her hand. "You are my dear. You have always been brave enough to own your mistakes," he said softly.

She looked at him and smiled.

"I am sorry I took you away as swiftly as I did. I just was worried I would lose you too fast if I did not rush you out of that town," he said with a sad look. "I thought I had a chance to get my girl back before any further damage to your person or reputation...and perhaps I could keep you a bit longer."

She looked at her father and shook her head. "Father, I can't stay a little girl anymore."

He nodded. "Oh, I know that." he turned. "Come on back to the house and eat breakfast. Your mother has plans to sent the children over to bring gifts to the poor. It would be a good time for you to tell us everything." he said as she ran to walk with him. "You said you were drugged. I would ask you not to leave anything out."

She grabbed his arm. "So can I go back to Sanditon?" she asked.

He sighed. "I ask that you stay awhile, the children have missed you, we all have," he said softly. "I will ask you also not to tempt further scandal. If it reaches out here what hope do your six sisters in a good match?"

Charlotte nodded. "So the whole story?" she asked.

He nodded. "Aye, I think that will do nicely for an afternoon."

Laughing on her father's arm she felt her heart lighten a little.