Chapter Text
My characters shall have, after a little trouble, all that they desire. (Jane Austen)
Insufferable man!
He was lounging in his brother's chair, boots up on the desk, puffing his disgusting tobacco, rolling his eyes and glaring at her from behind the newspaper: “Can’t I even read the news in peace?” – as if it was perfectly acceptable for him to occupy the study; as if he had every reason to be here and she none at all. And he had the nerve to call her ubiquitous!
“If you don’t wish to be disturbed,” Charlotte said, chin up and not shying away from his irritating gaze, “you might choose somewhere more secluded.”
“I tried that,” he informed her, looking her square in the eyes. “It wasn’t entirely successful.”
He was a brute; he really was. Only the most odious and offensive ruffian would dare to remind her of their embarrassing meeting at the cove. A gentleman – a true gentleman – would never have referred to that moment again.
But Sidney Parker was a gentleman in name only. She knew that very well. Forgetting her name, rebuking her at the ball, rejecting her apology, and then, to top it all, that… that encounter at the cove. He was nothing but a rich man who believed personal wealth, a handsome face, and a certain experience in life were enough to justify baseless prejudices and bad manners.
But before Charlotte could put her opinion on Mr Sidney Parker’s character into more than an angry frown, she was interrupted by her host.
“Charlotte! Sidney!” Tom Parker stormed into the study. “Come on; it’s time to leave. You don’t want to miss… what is it, Wickens?”
The servant bowed. “Mrs Parker is requesting your presence in the drawing-room, sir. – Yours and Miss Heywood’s,” he specified.
“Oh, we don’t have time for that, Wickens. Tell Mrs Parker that we are about to depart for Dr Fuchs’ fascinating demonstration of his skills at Sanditon House.”
“Mrs Parker was very adamant, sir,” Wickens said. “Mr Hankins is with her.”
“Splendid!” Mr Parker beamed. “He can accompany us to Lady D’s. A man of the church meeting a man of the science. I’m intrigued as to what the good vicar will have to say on the principle of hydrotherapy. Aren’t you too, Charlotte?”
Charlotte quickly nodded, tearing her eyes from the newspaper behind which Sidney Parker continued to puff his tobacco. She followed her host to the drawing-room where, indeed, Mrs Parker was sitting on the sofa, looking slightly careworn as always – or perhaps even more so right now. The vicar stood and bowed at their entrance, then positioned himself on one of the chairs beneath the window, sitting very upright, his hands folded on top of his knees, his chin held high, his face an expression of complacency and self-righteousness. Charlotte realised that whatever had brought him here, it was definitely not curiosity about Dr Fuchs and the miracles of hydrotherapy.
“My dear Mr Hankins!” Mr Parker walked straight towards his visitor. “What happy timing! Would you care to join us for a most fascinating medical demonstration at Lady Denham’s? I have been fortunate enough to lure a truly renowned specialist to Sanditon. You must have heard of Dr Maximilian Fuchs…”
“Indeed I have not,” Mr Hankins said. “And for the moment, I am in no mood to indulge myself in shallow sensation mongering. I am here on a matter of conscience, sir.”
“Oh,” Mr Parker said, visibly taken aback. Charlotte followed Mrs Parker’s gaze and took a seat next to her hostess on the sofa. “A matter of conscience,” Mr Parker repeated. “What might that be? And how can I be of help, vicar?”
“As you know, sir, there is an exceptional garden of gentle young lilies blossoming on Sanditon’s shores right now,” Mr Hankins explained. “The young Misses Beaufort, Miss Lambe of course, Lady Denham’s nieces, Miss Brereton, Miss Denham, and your own guest, Miss Heywood.”
“Yes. And glad we are to have so many young ladies with us.” Mr Parker smiled first at Charlotte, then at Mr Hankins. The vicar did not smile back.
“As the spiritual leader of our community, I sense it is my duty, if not my responsibility, to ensure all rules of propriety are strictly observed lest the innocence of these young ladies should not be compromised.”
Mr Parker laughed. “If you are referring to our sea-bathing expeditions, I can assure you, Mr Hankins, there is no impropriety at all,” he said. “The ladies take their turns from the safe havens of the bathing machines while we gentlemen venture down to our part of the beach. It is all conducted in the strictest privacy and to the benefit of us all. You find sea-bathing very invigorating, Charlotte, don’t you?”
“I do,” Charlotte agreed, not sure what to make of this conversation.
“And yet,” Mr Hankins said, ignoring her, “yet I had to witness two members of your very own household, sir, entangling themselves in the most shocking breach of propriety.”
“What?” For once, Mr Parker looked dumbfounded. “Mary?” he asked after a second, turning to his wife, as always when in need of help. “What is this about?” And as his wife said nothing but only searched for the hand of her young guest, he added: “Charlotte?”
And Charlotte, feeling her heart sink and her colour rise, understood that their encounter at the cove had not been as private as both she and Sidney Parker assumed.
*
With Miss Heywood and his brother gone, Sidney leaned back and took another deep draw from his cheroot. In truth, he did not smoke the stuff because he so much enjoyed it, but because it was even more efficient than a cane or an angry scowl if one wanted to keep the rest of the world at bay. Especially young girls from nowhere who presumed to know everything. Miss Heywood again! Truth be told, she was ubiquitous, not only in person but also in his mind.
More truth be told, he quite enjoyed her absolutely apparent inability to forget what had happened at the cove. He even more enjoyed her struggles at behaving with a young lady’s decorum when faced with the memory of their encounter. Her vivid facial expressions and sharp rhetorical arrows were way more entertaining than Georgiana’s unending complaints, Tom’s selfish rants or Crowe’s terrible singing.
Even more truth be told, the most enjoyable part of it all was the way Miss Heywood breathed in and breathed out when she was exasperated (usually about him), setting her whole body and especially her lovely cleavage into motion. During their dance at the ball, that cleavage – and the effort it was taking him not to stare at it – had distracted him thoroughly. He had been exceptionally grateful when Georgiana’s appearance offered him an excuse for an honourable escape.
All in all, if Miss Heywood was suffering from what she had seen at the cove, it was only just. He was suffering as well, and from more visions than just one.
He drew on the cheroot again, trying to concentrate on the newspaper. The society section was not the most fascinating part of the news – especially for someone who considered himself an outlier. And yet there was something that caught his eye, hidden between an announcement of a ball at a Mrs Maudsley’s and some speculations about who the Prince Regent was currently simpatico with. Just a short passage, but enough to stop thinking about Miss Heywood: The lovely Mrs Campion, this correspondent understands, is about to come out of mourning and will soon grace London society with her wit and beauty again.
Mrs Campion. Eliza.
He shoved the paper aside, extinguished the cheroot, took his boots off the desk and grabbed his jacket: time for another round of bracing exercise down at the…
“Sidney!” Tom stormed into the study, his cheeks showing a dramatic red colour, his long arms rotating like the sails of a windmill. “Here you are! Come with me immediately!”
Sidney scrambled into his jacket. “I’m sorry, Tom, I’m not going to join you for Dr Fuchs’s demon-…”
“Ah, Dr Fuchs!” Tom ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in a somewhat dishevelled state. “Wickens!” The servant appeared from behind a pillar. “Wickens, send a man to Sanditon House… the Parker party is inconsolable, but we are delayed… we are delayed most tragically. - If we are to lose Dr Fuchs because of this, it will be down on your head as well, Sidney!”
“Can’t take the blame,” Sidney said. “I’ve never met the chap. Actually, I’m going out for…”
“You are not going out, Sidney!”– and with a rather uncharacteristic display of elder-brother-authority, Tom took him by the elbow and pushed him towards the drawing-room.
“Tom?”
“This is serious now, brother! This is truly serious!” Tom’s eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets as he opened the drawing room’s door.
And it was serious. It was evident the moment Sidney stepped into the room: the vicar, upright on his chair and as stiff as a poker, his face the very picture of self-righteousness. Mary, apprehensively clutching Miss Heywood’s hands. Miss Heywood, staring down at her feet, her cheeks burning with a shame he had seen only once before.
At the cove.
His heart sank. If that was what this was about… if they knew… Miss Heywood raised her head, her dark eyes boring into his. Ashamed she might be, but she had lost none of her spirit – despite a slightly trembling underlip. Her expression for him, however, was full of defiance. This is down to you, her gaze said. Now find a way to get us out of it.
“Mary… Miss Heywood… Mr Hankins – how can I be of assistance?” He slumped down on the next chair, his mouth twitching, his hands folded in front of him. Regretfully, he had left his cane along with the coat and the hat in Wickens’ care: it was such a powerful accessory to underline the part of the nonchalant ruffian that he was apparently expected to play.
“Oh Sidney,” Mary softly said as Tom started pacing up and down the room and Mr Hankins showed an expression as if he was Sanditon’s one and only rightful arbiter of decency and decorum. Finally, Tom spoke.
“The vicar here has given us a rather dreadful account of a most unfortunate encounter that occurred between you and Miss Heywood in the wake of Lady Denham’s luncheon party. No need to deny it, Sidney – Miss Heywood has already confirmed the incident.”
Sidney checked his timepiece. “I wasn’t going to deny anything, Tom. I’m just wondering how Mr Hankins might have obtained such information.”
“Ahem,” the vicar said. “I was looking out for Mrs Griffiths in the hope to support her in her search for Miss Lambe. Your ward had gone missing that afternoon, as you may remember, Mr Parker.” Sidney flinched at the friendly reminder of how woefully he had neglected his duties as a guardian on that day: carousing in the bar of the Crown with Babington and Crowe, then taking a swim while Georgiana’s desperation culminated in a desperate and unsuccessful attempt to flee Sanditon, ultimately resulting in her befriending another bad influence – Miss Heywood. “Thus,” Mr Hankins explained, “walking towards the shoreline, I found myself in the unique position to become an eyewitness to the unfortunate incident.”
“Right,” Sidney said, trying to gain time. It would have been easier if the vicar had just divulged third-party knowledge. “But if you were there, sir, you can also confirm that it was nothing but a fleeting encounter.”
“A fleeting encounter?” Mr Hankins repeated. “I would not call it that, sir. Certainly, I was positioned too far away to gather any details, but I can safely say that a sort of conversation took place between you and Miss Heywood.”
“But that was about nothing!” Miss Heywood was obviously unable to hold back any longer. “Mr Parker, you must believe me!” She turned to her host.
Mary was stroking her hand. “No one’s blaming you, Charlotte.”
“Although,” her husband added, “it was of course rather unfortunate that you would amble along such a remote part of the beach all on your own, my dear.”
“So,” Sidney said. “With that clarified, can we all return to what we were doing? Tom, I suppose Lady D and Dr Fuchs are expecting you?” In fact, he could not wait to get away from the sanctimonious priest and Miss Heywood’s rather confounding presence.
“I don’t think we are finished here,” the vicar interjected. “Or in fact, if we are, that is just another proof of the sad decline of morals here in Sanditon.”
“Mr Hankins!” Tom exclaimed. “That is a very unfair charge! And a dangerous one as well! If you spread such rumours, they might jeopardise all our efforts at establishing Sanditon as a fashionable new resort.”
“Your efforts, Mr Parker. Solely your efforts. I’m definitely not an advocate for the frivolousness and debauchery that usually follow in such places.”
“Frivolousness and debauchery!” Tom repeated. Sidney saw his sister-in-law blanch. Mary Parker was undoubtedly the very opposite of frivolousness and debauchery. And yet, a lack of precisely those qualities was what had made Babington and Crowe eager to leave Sanditon.
“I haven’t slept well ever since I became an involuntary witness to your brother’s recklessness and Miss Heywood’s folly,” the vicar went on, speaking to Tom exclusively. “My conscience has been nagging on me, and yet, I believed, with your brother being a gentleman, and Miss Heywood a young lady, the matter would be resolved quickly and discreetly within the circle of your family. – And now I see that that has not been the case.”
“There was no matter to be resolved until you chose to make it one,” Sidney said, rather impatient now. Mr Hankins gave him a condescending look.
“Even without a witness, God sees all our deeds, Mr Parker.”
Miss Heywood leaned forward. “But surely then God must know that nothing untoward has happened, sir?” Admirable as her logic was, it was lost on the vicar.
“Nothing untoward, Miss Heywood? In fact, there is a dramatic decline in decency in Sanditon. Only yesterday, I had to witness Miss Lambe, a young lady… merely a girl of no worldly experience whatsoever… I had to witness her display a… a wildness… a ferocity during her drawing lessons…” He shook his head in distress, turning to Sidney. “I assume you have been made aware of the incident, Mr Parker.”
“Indeed I have,” Sidney confirmed. “It’s the reason why I’m still here. I intended to leave for London yesterday.” He caught a quick glance by Miss Heywood, implying If only you had left. Did she know what was in Georgiana’s painting? Mrs Griffiths had seen herself unfit to give him any other details than that it was not the work of a lady.
“But this is unacceptable,” the vicar said. “How is Miss Lambe to understand the importance of moral integrity when her guardian will not stand up for his own repulsive actions against an innocent young woman?”
For a moment, there was no other sound than the ticking of the grandfather clock. Three pairs of eyes were staring at Sidney – the fourth was Miss Heywood’s, and she was staring not at him but at the vicar. Sidney felt his mouth twitch.
“I… um, I’m fully convinced that Mrs Griffiths will fulfil that educational duty,” he finally said. “She’s being paid well enough for it.”
“But the vicar is right,” Tom said. “You are Miss Lambe’s guardian, Sidney. You must lead by example – your behaviour sets the tone for her.”
“And so it will,” Sidney declared, standing up from his chair. It was really time to end this nonsense discussion. “I have learned my lesson, vicar, and I promise I’ll be a more conscientious role model for Miss Lambe in the future.” For a second, he considered adding an apology to Miss Heywood for the incident at the cove, but upon seeing her upset expression, he decided against it. Better never to mention the encounter ever again. “Good day,” he said and moved towards the door. His brother intercepted him.
“Sidney! Where are you going? This is far from over. I cannot afford to have Sanditon’s reputation sullied through your carelessness.”
“I wasn’t careless, I was sea-bathing,” Sidney said. But that wasn’t true, and the moment he said it, he knew it. Yes, he had been sea-bathing. And the other Yes was that once Miss Heywood had discovered him, he had done nothing to hide himself from her. The easiest thing would have been to dive back into the waves: yet he had stayed where he was, in her full view. And even worse – instead of turning around, he had moved closer towards her. And to find spunky Charlotte Heywood finally lost for words had quite amused if not excited him. So yes, he was careless. And maybe even debauched.
“So you were sea-bathing,” Tom said. “And if you are so fond of sea-bathing, brother, then why not enjoy it at the men’s beach, as the other gentlemen do? Why be so reckless and go to the open shoreline?”
“I prefer my solitude,” Sidney replied through clenched teeth.
“Obviously not that solitary if both Miss Heywood and the vicar managed to discover you.” For a moment, Sidney wondered whether Tom was actually enjoying this. Whether he relished that for once, he was not the elder brother who had to petition the younger for his support, his connections and his money. That for once, he was holding Sidney’s destiny in his hands and not Sidney his.
“Brother,” Tom went on. “This is not only about one unfortunate coincidence. This is about the future of Sanditon. How am I to fill my empty houses with respectable clientele if we have a reputation for frivolity? If it is known that a young lady cannot walk Sanditon’s beaches without the danger of being compromised? If Lady Denham hears about your antics, she may decide to withdraw her investment, and that…” He shook his head in sorrow. “That, brother, would be the end of us all.”
“But Mr Parker, how is Lady Denham to know about… about this, if we don’t tell her?” Miss Heywood asked, all eagerness and logic.
“Charlotte’s right,” Mary seconded her. “Surely there is no reason to blow the incident up when all who know about it are in this room and agree to keep silent.”
“I haven’t told anyone about it,” Miss Heywood said. “Not even my sister Alison, and she’s my closest confidante. And I trust Mr Parker has not been indiscrete either.” Sidney felt her gaze searching his, her large brown eyes pleading for confirmation.
He cleared his throat, trying to gain time.
“Mr Parker?” she repeated, her tone more urgent now.
“I… um.” He coughed, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I might have mentioned the incident to Lord Babington and Mr Crowe.”
“What?” Miss Heywood cried, and “Oh, Sidney,” Mary softly said. The vicar made an unspecified sound that could be interpreted as “I told you so”, and Tom simply sank down on the next chair as if mortally wounded.
“There’s nothing to fear from them,” Sidney quickly added, knowing only too well that this was not going to help. “They are gentlemen.”
“Lord Babington and Mr Crowe,” Tom mumbled. This was obviously not the kind of promotion he had hoped to receive from his brother’s fashionable friends.
“But Mr Crowe is a chatterbox,” Miss Heywood said. She must know. After all, she had been sitting next to him during Lady Denham’s luncheon party. And as Sidney had been sitting on her other side, wilfully ignored by her for most of the event, he knew exactly how lively their conversation had been. Lively enough for Crowe to call Miss Heywood spunky afterwards.
“If Mr Crowe is to spread the word in London, we are ruined,” Tom summed up. “How can we hope to attract the most noble members of society if we cannot protect their daughters from being compromised? How can we advertise as a family resort if we don’t behave according to family values?”
Sidney twitched his mouth. As usual, his brother was forgetting in all his Tom-ness that this was not entirely about him. It was also about Miss Heywood. A young, inexperienced girl from the countryside whose reputation would be shattered before she had even come close to spelling the words “Polite Society”. And if he could see it, so did Miss Heywood: she was staring at him in sheer horror, her eyes large and luminous, her mouth half-open, the lower lip trembling, her chest heaving in agitation.
“There is only one remedy,” Tom concluded. The vicar nodded emphatically.
“I have been saying so from the very beginning, Mr Parker. There is only one way to restore propriety and godliness to the soiled shores of Sanditon.”
Sidney saw Mary press Miss Heywood’s hands in a kind gesture of comfort and encouragement. He saw Miss Heywood shake her head in desperate disbelief, her dark curls flying about her shoulders, her whole body in agitated motion.
Bloody hell.
But there were worse prospects, after all.
“I expect you, Sidney,” Tom said, displaying all his elder-brother-authority again, “to offer Miss Heywood your hand in marriage.”