Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

2

It wasn't until the following day that the news reached the rest of the Parker family, Tom having written to them as soon as he awoke from his fainting spell, and Mary was sorely displeased to hear the voices of Arthur and Diana burst through the front door of Trafalgar House not a day later, frantic and shrill as ever, as they demanded to see their brother.

Mary, sitting at what had become her usual place at his bedside, touched Sidney's unconscious shoulder briefly and stood, with a mind to stave them off.

"Oh, Mary, it cannot be true!" Diana's wailing carried down the hall just as Mary latched the door behind her. "We received the most alarming letter by courier. Please, tell us that we haven't arrived too late."

"Sister," Arthur looked alarmed, his eyes twice their usual size, "is he...dead?" he finished in a whisper.

Mary closed her eyes, and shook her head as if to awaken her senses to their overstimulating presence. "Please, keep your voices down. He needs his rest if he is to survive this. He is alive, but only just, and I intend to keep him from getting any worse if it is the last thing I do on this earth." she spouted, finishing rather more harshly than she meant to.

"Oh, sister," said Arthur, softening, "thank goodness he is alive. Please, we must see him. I would never forgive myself if-" he cut off, raising a hand to his chest as if to catch his breath.

"You may, but you must not speak in more than a whisper, is that clear? We are under the strictest of orders from Dr Fuchs not to disturb him in any way. Do not move him, do not touch him, you may only sit with him." Mary looked at them both with a stern expression she often used with the children.

They nodded in tandem, slightly shocked at her reaction, and she opened the door to allow them in. "As a matter of fact, it is time to redress the wound, and I must fetch more bandages. Leave him be until I return. I beg of you." she said and left, silently praying that they would follow her orders.

She found that her legs were very stiff after sitting at his bedside for hours on end, and she was somewhat thankful for the respite, however brief it might be. Over the past few hours, however, a feeling of unease had begun to bloom in her chest, catching her at odd moments and she found she was quite unable to breathe, for Sidney had not awakened since his operation. They had summoned Dr Fuchs twice since, and he merely said that they must wait, that he would rouse when his body was ready, and not before.

Mary felt tears upon her cheeks once again, and wiped them away quickly, sniffing back a sob. If only Charlotte were here. If only she hadn't left at all. If only Tom hadn't been such a fool. And yet, it had all led to this.

"Where is he?! You must tell me where he is!" Mary heard the unmistakable voice of Georgiana in the hallway on her way back toward the staircase.

"Georgiana?" she walked up to the frantic-looking girl, and as she approached, she noticed the undeniable fear in her eyes. "Ah, I see you have heard the news?"

She stilled. "So...it's true?" she asked, tears landing upon her cheeks. "It is all over town. I heard it from the blasted Beaufort sisters this morning."

"Yes, it's true. I am so sorry, Georgiana," she said, guilt coursing through her body. "It is so important that he rest. We had planned to tell you very soon, but the fact is, he has yet to wake."

"Tell me...was he thrown from his horse?" she asked. "That is what I heard this morning."

Mary nodded. "Come along, dear," she said wrapping an arm around Georgiana's shoulders, "I will take you to him. As a matter of fact, Arthur and Diana burst in just moments before you arrived, and are watching him while I retrieve some fresh bandages."

Georgiana swallowed, her expression uneasy, "Mary. How bad is it?"

"We must have hope that he will make it through this. He is so very strong-" Mary froze, and Georgiana stopped instinctually behind her. The pronounced sound of whooping wafted down to them from the floor above. Mary's breath hitched in her throat and the world around her swirled once more as she picked up her skirts and travelled at a breakneck pace to Sidney's room, Georgiana behind her.

"Sister!" Arthur cried, joyously, his face stained with tears, "Georgiana! Come, come, he has awakened at last!"

Mary all but threw the basket of bandages into the chair beside her and kneeled upon the floor, reaching a hand to his forehead as if he were her own child. "Don't move, Sidney. Please, you mustn't move."

He blinked up at her, his breathing as shallow as ever. "Water," she instructed, and Georgiana rushed to the table across the room where a partially filled glass remained on a platter. Mary tilted the glass up to his lips, her hands trembling.

"Brother, you have had a fall," Diana said, waving a fan at him from the foot of the bed, as if he had merely fainted.

"A great fall, indeed," Arthur added, dramatically.

"Sidney, can you hear me?" Mary asked, stroking his forehead as she passed the glass off to Arthur with her free hand. Georgiana stepped to his other side, kneeling next to the bed. "Sidney, we are here," she called.

He nodded, appearing confused, and finally croaked, "Where am I?"

"Trafalgar House, dear," said Mary, "you were thrown-" she inhaled sharply, unable to prevent a sob from breaking through, "from your horse."

Sidney moved his hand, reaching for hers. "How long?" His breathing increased, shallow and swift.

"Two days. It has been two days," she said, tears falling freely down her face as she held his hand in her own.

His expression became vacant as he stared at the ceiling above him, inhaling increasing bursts of air, his eyes searching, attempting to retrieve something that was not yet within reach.

As Mary, Georgiana, Arthur and Diana looked on in silence, they instinctively moved closer, surrounding him as they witnessed the last memories from that day on the clifftops flood into his mind, overtaking him for the briefest of moments and releasing through his open mouth in a single exhale. They watched in silence as a teardrop fell, sliding downward from eye to temple to ear, and disappeared as if the last sign of life had drained from his body, never to return.