Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

16

Sidney led Esther back to where they had both left Babington, stealing glances over his shoulder at Charlotte, who had already managed to disappear from view, a wave of panic beginning to course through him, adrenaline fueling his movements.

Esther turned to him the moment they reached the edge of the ballroom floor. "Go, Sidney. Go to her now. I will be fine." She smiled kindly at him.

"Yes." he nodded at her, his mind already distracted, struggling to figure out the best course of action, and finding that he had no apparent answer. "Yes, I shall." He gave her the briefest of bows. "Thank you, Esther."

"Go." she repeated, her eyes flitting to the opposite side of the room, and as if triggered by her last word, he turned in the direction Charlotte had walked, making his way along the edge of the room, searching the crowd for her, dodging anyone he knew in his path, no longer able to hide his determination to reach her.

His heart raced as crucial seconds passed, members of the Beau Monde stifling him, preventing him from moving past - a fisher's net that threatened to suffocate him.

And yet he broke through, progressing painstakingly to the other side of the ballroom, persistent and unflagging. He must find her. He must reach her. He must. He must. He must.

He repeated the words in his mind as he opened doors and pulled aside curtains that led to corridors and revealed hidden alcoves, his breath catching in his throat at the thought of finding her at last, and releasing in marked disappointment when she would not be found.

He escaped into the depths of the building, one corridor leading to the next, his heart leaping at every turn, but she was not there.

Sidney dropped his head in his hands, frustration evolving into despair. After all this time, he had still lost her. How could this be? One fleeting encounter - was that all they were meant to have? To be reunited and broken apart yet again was the cruellest sort of punishment even he could imagine.

He turned to navigate his way back, attempting to remember where he had turned to at least find his way out of this wretched building. Defeated, he walked on, feeling more trapped by the second as he realised just how lost he had become.

He passed entrance upon entrance, each looking identical to the last, revealing more expansive rooms than he had even thought possible for the grandest London house, and as he realised that he may have taken yet another wrong turn, an unfamiliar gleam of light caught his eye.

He approached an open doorway, stepping slowly, hesitantly, certain that he hadn't walked by it before. His breath hitched in his throat as he moved closer, his eyes finally catching sight of her. Charlotte Heywood sat crumpled on the floor of the library, her gown surrounding her body like a cloud before a grand fireplace, two wingback chairs on either side of her.

Sidney let out a sob of relief at the sight of her as he brought his fist to his mouth in embarrassment, and then thought of nothing else as he moved toward the room, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him.

She looked up at the sound, startled at seeing him, at seeing anyone, and she rose quickly, almost lithely from her position on the rug.

"I wish to be alone, Mr Parker," she said, attempting to wipe away any evidence of tears.

He tilted his head in anguish, his voice desperate as it came out in barely more than a whisper. "Please, Charlotte."

"No," she answered, shaking her head slowly, tears welling in her eyes before she could hold them back, "please, I beg of you, just leave me be."

He stepped toward her, his own resolve breaking, "Charlotte...please, there is something you must-"

"How could you?" she spouted, a look of disdain appearing upon her face that stopped him in his tracks. "I have spent months of my life trying to forgive you, and still I am left with anger and torment and disbelief as if the news had just been broken."

His heartbeat quickened, pulsing through his neck, up to the vein in his forehead as he sought an answer. "If there had been another way-"

"There might have been a thousand ways, and yet you did not pursue them."

"I had one week, Charlotte," he swallowed nervously, "one week to keep my brother and his family from the debtor's prison, and I tried-"

"You tried?" she laughed bitterly.

"Don't you dare think that I did anything less than knock on every door in London before I went to hers." His voice had raised, anger building within him despite everything.

"And yet, you still went, and without consulting me, without even so much as a warning-"

"I had no choice!" he shouted, his hands balled into fists, his breathing quick and shallow as he stepped closer.

"No, Sidney," she said in a surge of indignation, "you had a choice, and the choice is already made."

She looked at him defiantly, angrily, as silence filled the room, but her face could not keep up the pretence, and he watched as her expression deteriorated before him - and with horror, he saw that tears had started to flow down her lovely face. Sidney began to move toward her, his hands outstretched, instinctively trying to soothe her, but she stepped back.

"Why must you come back into my life?" she uttered despairingly, looking directly at him, piercing his soul with the pain he had caused her. "I had just started living again, and now..."

He stood before her, absorbing the extent of her misery, breathing it in and out through his mouth until he found he could no longer stand it. He nodded, lowering his head, feeling his revived heartbeat die in his chest. He could handle almost anything, but this.

He swallowed down a sob, but his eyes he could not control as they welled. "I find..." he faltered, overcome with an anguish that was unrelenting, threatening to render him speechless as he sought the right words, the words he had imagined speaking to her a thousand times over, "that you are the very person - the only person, in fact-."

"Enough," she nearly shouted in frustration, her whole body moving with the effort. "What good will it do?"

He found that he did not know what to do, how to act, how to proceed, desperation taking hold of his body as he moved toward her. "Charlotte, please." he appealed, reaching for her hands, but she shook him away, unbalancing him, and his heart fell again, lower, unable to stand the feeling of rejection spreading within him. Not this. Not from her.

Tears spilled from her eyes, her voice choked from the effort. "I could live my entire life with the comfort of knowing that you are honourable, that you are a man of your word - and yet you follow me, and treat me as if we could be what we are not."

His breathing increased yet again, swift and tenuous, and he found he could not catch it. "Charlotte," he said, his hands finding hers at last, gripping onto them as if his life depended upon it as he stepped nearer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, and even after their time apart, her body deceived her - her heartbeat increasing as she leaned into him. "I never thought... please, I cannot bear it, this torment. I cannot breathe for it." He leaned closer still, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixed upon hers. "I have tried, for months I have tried...I cannot keep myself from you."

She stilled, intoxicated by him, close enough to breathe him in as he touched his forehead to hers, his quick breaths upon her mouth as she inhaled, waiting for the resolve to step away...but it did not come. "I know," she sobbed, as body and mind became one again, her will diminishing to nothingness.

"Surely," he breathed against her, in barely more than a whisper, "you must know, that we are beyond words."

It was she who closed the space between them, seeking contact, her thoughts of propriety overshadowed by the notion that this may be the last time, her last chance to breathe and taste and touch, and he responded as if she had, in turn, breathed life back into his body. He embraced her, inhaling deeply as his hands moved to her hair, her waist, pulling her to him until their bodies met, unable to let go of the woman he loved.