Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

13

The day of the ball approached faster than Sidney thought possible. Linton had subtly removed the brandy from his study shortly after midnight the night before and yet, Sidney had worked into the late hours, poring over business documents that Tom had left in London, working his way through piles of letters that referenced unpaid debts, calculating the running total as he progressed.

Linton had awoken him at five that morning, still at his desk, face plastered against a hastily scribbled note written in Tom's untidy hand, and sent him up to bed to rest, citing his injury as reason enough.

"Linton, really, I am quite healed." he protested, as he was gently prodded up the stairs of Bedford Place.

"You forget that I may be your butler, Mr Parker, but I am also your valet. You are not quite healed in the least."

Sidney responded with a scowl, as he proceeded up the stairs with slightly less resistance.

"I have been given strict instructions from Mrs Parker to make sure that you are rested for this evening."

Sidney slowed, turning to glance back at Linton, "Have you, now?"

"Yes, Sir, and unlike you, I am inclined to follow instructions."

"Well said, Linton. Perhaps I might oblige, after all. I wouldn't want to rope you into this."

"Go on, then. I will wake you when the bath is ready. Mrs Parker has also requested a change of bandages."

"Of course she has, but on that front, I can manage quite well on my own, Linton. I shall spare you the horror."

Linton stared at him in sceptical silence and turned swiftly to make his way back down the stairs. "Now get some rest," he called behind him as he went on to the full schedule of tasks ahead.

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Sidney awoke that afternoon to the swish of draperies and a sudden burst of light. "Up now, Sir. Your bath is drawn."

He groaned slightly before rolling on to his side, realising all too late that he was putting all of his weight on his wound. He winced, his side aching, and sat up, head spinning slightly as he reoriented himself.

"Now, Master Parker, what do you wish to wear this evening?" Sidney had a brief flashback to a far younger Linton asking him the very same question when he was little more than a boy. On occasion, Linton would slip in his address, as if travelling years into the past and refer to him as Master Parker, and even though he was a grown man, it brought him comfort to hear it, for as it stood, Linton was the very age his parents would have been, had they survived.

"I don't much mind, Linton. Perhaps something that won't show the blood seeping through my bandages will do just fine."

"Ah, then I will do my very best, Sir, but I believe you are no longer at risk of bleeding entirely through bandages. I had rather set my heart on the gold waistcoat, you see."

Sidney looked away, momentarily distracted, before meeting Linton's expectant gaze, "Right then, the gold will do."

"It is settled, then. Now hurry along, Master Parker. The bath will get cold."

He lifted his linen shirt carefully over his head as he walked across the room to the bath. What he wouldn't give to go for a swim again. Perhaps in the spring.