Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

17

Charlotte arrived late to breakfast the following morning. After having spent the majority of the night staring at the ceiling, Martha was gracious enough, upon finding her unrested and groggy, to allow her a bit more time to rest, though resting was the very last thing on her mind. Susan had already come and gone by the time she sat down at the table, and she rather wondered if a walk might suit her better.

"Charlotte! I was hoping that I would have a chance to see you yet this morning."

She froze mid-reach, her hand hovering above the plate of toast, and looked almost hesitantly over her shoulder at Susan as she walked into the room, circling the table to take the seat across from her. "You were?"

"Yes, most certainly. I was hoping that you might tell me more about what happened at the ball. We must catch up."

They had spoken briefly on the carriage ride back to Weston Place, but Charlotte had been vague in her answers, not wanting to reveal the extent of her encounter with Sidney Parker. She felt flushed, the warmth of it creeping up her neck as her mind wandered back to the library, and in a flash, his hands were upon her again, leaving their indelible mark as his mouth trailed down her neck. I cannot keep myself from you.

She realised, all too late, that she had been holding her breath.

Susan eyed her suspiciously and shifted to the edge of her chair. "I am sensing that there is something you are not telling me, and if it is a private matter, I will not pry. I only know that you disappeared for quite some time after dancing with Mr Parker, nay seeing him for the first time in how many months, and my dear, I fear that others may have noticed. Charlotte...I need you to be careful, more careful than you have ever been, at least while you are outside this house. Do you understand?"

She found that she could hold it in no longer. "He followed me, Susan," she said, overcome. "I tried to get away, but he followed me. What was I supposed to do?"

Susan's expression turned to one of concern, and she reached out her, resting her hand flat upon the table as if bracing herself. "Did anything happen, Charlotte?"

She felt the blood rush to her head in embarrassment, averting her gaze before she was even aware of it - having given her answer without speaking a word.

"Dear me, he is lost." she said, absorbing the possibilities of what might have occurred had he followed Charlotte from the ballroom, her mind reeling, "I imagined that he would have a degree more self-control as a gentleman. Indeed, I know him to have more than to make such an advance."

"I fear that he is not the same man, Susan," Charlotte murmured, the devastation written upon her face so clearly that Susan knew she had only moments.

"Well, perhaps not last night, but we will find him yet." she reached for Charlotte's hand across the table in a comforting gesture, "I believe that he has been broken by his decisions, and from what you have relayed to me just now, he is merely worse off than either of us anticipated. This cannot be, Charlotte. We must work to put this to rights. I will not continue on as a witness to two young people in such tragic circumstances."

Susan fell silent, and Charlotte looked over at her friend, witnessing a now-familiar look upon her face. A sly smile broke out upon her face, her eyes positively twinkling as she came to. "Yes, I believe I do know a way forward, after all."

"What have you been planning in that great mind of yours?" Charlotte asked curiously.

"So often, plans come to fruition before we even realise they are hovering before us. But they tend to make an appearance if we observe closely."

Charlotte recalled their exchange, focusing her mind on any clues that may have presented themselves, and lifted her head in triumph, "Susan, may I ask - how reliable are your servants?"

A grin broke out upon Susan's face, her eyes brimming with pride for her young companion, "Very, my dear. I pay my servants well for many reasons, but discretion is among them."

"I see," said Charlotte. "So, if we were to, perhaps, have a visitor within this very house, we might find a means of at least beginning the process of putting this situation to rights."

"Exactly my thinking, Charlotte. Shall we call for a meeting this afternoon?"

Charlotte smiled, approvingly.

Susan turned in her chair to ring the service bell. "Bradford" she greeted the butler as he entered the room.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Ready my writing desk. I have a matter of business to arrange."

----------

Sidney Parker sat in the study of his London house, poring over Tom's financial documents, silently venting his frustration as he wrote increasingly untidy figures in the large ledger book fanned out upon the desk. He had spent weeks reviewing their records, searching for some sign that they were not as dependent on Eliza's money as he had feared, and desperately thinking of a way that they could make it work without her. And desperate is just what he had become, each day increasingly moreso as he was met with even more evidence of debt. There was not an ounce of good news to be found.

At the very least, he did not have to deal with Eliza at the moment. She remained in Paris for the fall, spending an exorbitant amount of money on God knows what for the elaborate society wedding that was planned for the spring.

Six months. Six more months before his life would be over as he knew it. He was running out of time to fix it, running out of ideas as the panic of what lay before him set in.

He rubbed at his eyes, willing himself to get back to the stack of unopened letters he had unearthed, but he had not slept, could think of little else other than what had happened at the ball, of being reunited with the woman who had haunted him, left him standing alone on a cliffside, resolved to do something, anything to alter the outcome that he had resorted to of his own will.

He squeezed his septum, attempting to relieve the pressure from this throbbing headache. He had left the ball last night with a renewed determination to put this to rights, clouded with guilt and embarrassment at what he had done. How could he have lost so much control? It was reckless.

She deserved better than that. She deserved someone better than him. And yet, his mind went back to the moment when she had closed the space between them, her mouth seeking his with such intensity, he had instantly become lost in her.

"Mr Parker, Sir?"

"Yes, Linton." He cleared his throat, speaking in a much deeper voice than usual, and Linton eyed him warily.

"A letter has come for you, Sir...by courier," he said, more slowly than usual, clearly trying to make out what he might have interrupted.

Sidney raised his eyebrows in as innocent a fashion as he could muster. "Oh, indeed."

His heart began to beat wildly as he took the letter from the tray, written in an unfamiliar, yet very elegant hand. He turned it over and instantly identified the seal upon the back.

Lady Worcester.

Could it be that this was how Charlotte had come to London? He thought back to how she had appeared to him last night, dressed in finery he had never seen from her, the latest fashions that even Eliza did not own.

He opened the letter, unable to breathe as he broke the seal, reading feverishly. "A meeting at Weston Place..." he whispered.

"Linton?" he called after his butler, who had discreetly chosen to wait just outside the door, as he scribbled a hurried reply, "I need you to send this out as soon as possible. It is a matter of urgency, and must be delivered within the hour."

"Yes, Sir, I will make sure of it."

"Good man. Thank you," He handed Linton the newly sealed correspondence, dismissing him from the study.

What could she mean? What on earth could she possibly want from him?