Chapter 2 – Breaking Ground
As Eliza passed over the threshold of the main entrance, she was engulfed in a boisterous wave of small, jubilant children. Although they were happy to see her, the main focus of their ear-splitting expressions of glee was their favourite uncle who they proceeded to tackle with hugs. The smile that graced his lips in response reached his eyes and she noted it was the first time she'd seen him happy and unguarded in ages.
It hit her without warning that she would likely never have children. Her first husband had spent a great deal of time away and when he was present never seemed overly interested in the prospects of intimacy or starting a family. She was purely for show when he attended public affairs. This time round, she knew she could not push Sydney. Even though he was a doting uncle, the dream of fatherhood fled him when he lost Ms. Heywood. Heaven only knew when that desire might return to him. Knowing her luck, she'd be unable to bear children by the time he was ready as she was already 28 and wasn't getting any younger.
So here she was on the outside looking in at familial bliss and she felt a surge or grief, resentment and envy overwhelm her. Hot, stinging tears threatened her composure and she forced herself to move past the mob and onward toward the drawing room where she heard voices. She paused at the closed door to breath in deeply, blow out the negative emotions swirling in her chest and swipe away the remnants of tears dancing on her lashes.
Before she could enter though, the door swung open and she came face to face with Mary Parker. Both women blinked at the other momentarily in shock. Mary broke from the spell first, her face splitting in a wide, welcoming smile.
"Eliza! Oh, it is so good to see you." Mary burst, throwing her arms around Eliza in a warm hug. Mary's open, genuine nature always put Eliza at ease. She was the quintessential mother, exuding love and acceptance.
Mary pulled away and slid her right arm around Eliza's shoulders, guiding her into the room, "Come in, come in. How was your trip? You must be absolutely famished for a cup of tea and biscuits."
As Eliza took in the room, her eyes fell upon a young man sitting stiffly in the corner. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place from where. One might consider him handsome, if it were not for the pinched expression marring his features. He stood quickly as etiquette demands and she felt herself taken aback not only by his height but his sheer presence.
"Tom! Come! You must make the introductions," Mary called out the door to the ruckus and rough housing that was still ensuing at the entrance. "I will sort out the refreshments," she tittered to them as she exited the room.
Eliza had spent years studying people while mingling with the upper echelons of British society. Their mannerisms, the way they spoke, and the tools they used to hide their true intentions. She knew how to read a person and this gentleman's imposing figure was in complete juxtaposition to his utter unease and lack of confidence. It was incredibly confusing. He returned her gaze with apprehension and distrust. This did not bode well.
Suddenly, Mr. Tom Parker bustled into the room, drawing Eliza's eyes away. Sydney soon followed, albeit in a more subdued manner.
"My dear, Eliza!" Tom effused. "I apologize for the delay. The children could not get enough of their beloved Uncle Sydney. They do so miss him… and you. But perhaps that may change? Perhaps you and Sydney will venture to let a house here once construction is complete and visit more often?"
Eliza raised a solitary eyebrow at Tom's presumption, letting an uncomfortable silence envelope the room at which Tom's face fell infinitesimally. But Eliza could not hold back the smirk teasing her lips and a slight giggle. It was such fun to tease Tom sometimes. He gave her a playfully scornful look in return.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Tom. From what I can see, Sanditon stills requires a great deal of work to return it to a livable state."
"Yes, yes… You are correct. The very purpose of this fortuitous meeting. Without further ado. Eliza, it is my honour to introduce you to Mr. James Stringer."
As Tom spoke, she looked back at the gentleman in question only to find him staring daggers at a spot to her right. She realized with a start that he must be looking at Sydney. There could be no other object of his ire. What could have possibly transpired to garner that level of dislike? She spared a small glance over her shoulder to gather Sydney's reaction but found him staring resolutely out the window. Interesting.
At the mention of his name, Mr. Stringer snapped his eyes back to her and moved forward offering his hand. She extended her hand palm down, expecting the customary kiss on the knuckles only to have him take it into his much larger hand and give it a firm shake. Eliza was jostled by the unexpected action and stared up at him as if he'd grown a second head. Did he really just shake her hand?
In the next moment, she took notice of how course and rough his hand felt in hers. Combined with his darker complexion, she deduced he must be a labourer of some kind. How in the world did Tom think this individual could possibly fill the shoes of an architect? There was no way he had the skill or knowledge to guide this type of restoration project. This truly was ridiculous.
She must have done a poor job of concealing her contempt, because the man pulled his hand away abruptly, stepped back and cast his eyes about awkwardly as if to look for an escape. She instantly felt shame bubble up in her chest for being so callous but forced the feeling down as quickly as it arose. This was business and she couldn't allow her emotions to dictate her pocketbook.
"Right, right!" Tom interrupted loudly, clapping his hands once to draw all eyes to him. "You should know, dear Eliza. James, here, has been accepted to the prestigious MacGibbon and Ross architectural firm in London as an apprentice. His designs are truly inspired. A God given talent, mind you, despite his humble beginnings."
Eliza eyed Tom warily. He was known to exaggerate when attempting to weave a fantastical picture.
"Has he now?" she offered dubiously. "Well, lets have a look then to see these marvelous designs you are proposing, Mr. Stringer, to make Sanditon even grander than it was before."
Eliza did not miss James Stringer's eyes hooding slightly and a hint of loathing passing over his features. The three moved to the large desk stationed at the far end of the room and James unfurled his plans along its top.
"Now, if you look here," James began. "This is the area in which the fire caused the most damage." He then hesitated, stood up and moved slightly back, clearing his throat and averting his eyes to the window.
Tom uncharacteristically placed a gentle hand on the other man's arm and quietly said, "Mr. Stringer, if it is too much I can explain the design."
Eliza looked between the two men, truly confounded by what had just passed. What was she missing?
"No, it's fine. Just… just give me a moment," James murmured. He cleared his throat again and swiped at his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "As I was saying, the four buildings here are too damaged to be recovered. They will need to be demolished completely for the restoration to begin."
Eliza sighed deeply. Unsurprisingly, this was going to be a lot more expensive than she'd hoped.
James continued, "The surrounding buildings have superficial damage that can be repaired. I dare say they can be made even more appealing than they were before. What I propose is that instead of rebuilding the four demolished buildings, we clear that area and make it a courtyard or small parklet. Now hear me out! The shores are most definitely the main draw for the visitors you hope to entice to Sanditon. But when the weather is not cooperating or it's too windy, there is nowhere outdoors to venture. This courtyard could be made to be very beautified or even resemble a Parisian market, and there could be a band shell constructed so there would be outdoor performances or events."
Completely stunned, Eliza looked up from the drawings and into James Stringer's hopeful face. It was absolute genius. Not only would it add to the cultural allure of the location, it would save them a great deal of time and money.
James mistook her wide-eyed silence for disapproval. "I understand this means you will be losing out on the rental income of those four buildings, but I think creating an outdoor space of beauty within Sanditon…"
"I am amiable to this plan," Eliza cut him off unceremoniously. "You have my full endorsement to its implementation."
It was James' turn to stare at her gobsmacked.
"Wonderful!" Tom exclaimed. "Mary! Mary, please bring in the refreshments. We have a celebration on our hands."
Eliza looked back down at the drawings and marvelled at the plan. It was so beautiful in its simplicity. The fire had occurred at the very centre of Sanditon. It seemed as if a small park or courtyard was always meant to be at its heart. No doubt the demolition and subsequent clean up would be the most time consuming and costly portion of the project. But she firmly believed Sanditon would be all the better for it.
Suddenly, Mary bustled in with the biscuits in hand followed by a servant wheeling in a tea cart.
"Here we are," Tom announced unnecessarily.
As everyone began to collect their beverages, Mary queried, "Mr. Stringer, I hear you've had a letter from Charlotte. How is she? We do miss her greatly."
The room was plunged into an icy, suffocating silence.
"She is as well as can be expected, ma'am." James finally answered through gritted teeth, briefly casting his eye line toward Sydney.
"Oh no! Is she not well?" Mary asked, moving toward him to fully understand.
"Um, no ma'am. She has been laid up as of late." James responded.
"That's terrible. Have you been to see her?" Mary pressed on, placing her hand on James' arm.
"No, ma'am. Her mother and father don't feel she is up to receiving guests right now." James offered quietly, trying to put the subject to rest.
"She should come to us here," Tom offered. "The Sanditon air would do her a world of good."
"I highly doubt that, Mr. Parker. I suspect that would likely make her worse," was James' stinging reply.
From the corner, Sydney had been watching the most recent conversation with keen, sharp eyes. At James' final response, Sydney placed his cup none too gently down on the end table and hastily exited the room. Only Tom and Mary Parker were surprised by Sydney's reaction and made their apologies before exiting to check on their brother.
Eliza turned to James Stringer, nonplussed, "Was that completely necessary?"
"I don't know that I catch your meaning, ma'am. I simply answered the questions that were posed of me," he responded, avoiding her piercing gaze and busying himself to a biscuit.
"Something tells me you know exactly what I'm talking about. Obviously, you are quite close to Ms. Heywood. A suitor perhaps?" Eliza was moving dangerously close to being indelicate, but she took offense to Mr. Stringer's tone.
"There was a time when I did fancy myself in love with Ms. Heywood. But I know better than to hang my hopes on a woman who is involved with another man." He looked at her pointedly and she cringed inwardly at the implied statement. "Besides, that has long since past. We are nothing more than good friends now."
This comment drove Eliza's hackles up even further. She did not enjoy being on the defensive. "Based on your reaction to my fiancé, I'd say that isn't entirely true. You don't seem too fond of him."
"Hogwash!" James bit back sharply. "What I'm not fond of is your lot treating anyone you feel is beneath you as disposable or unworthy of consideration."
Eliza stepped back, truly shocked by the vehemence in his tone. "I beg your pardon."
"You had already made up your mind as soon as you saw me that I wasn't worth the dirt under your shoe. And Mr. Parker's treatment of Ms. Heywood has been nothing short of scandalous. Poured attention on her then tossed her aside as soon as… as a better offer came along." He gestured to her angrily.
"That is not what happened," Eliza shouted, stamping her foot.
James huffed at her childish behaviour and made toward the door.
"Are you resigning your position?" she swivelled to follow his progress.
"Frankly, Ms. Campion, I don't give a damn what you think of me. You can do as you please for all I care."
With that, he was gone.
Eliza felt overcome, angry tears nearly choking her. She scoped about for release and her eyes fell upon the architectural plans laying forgotten on the table.
She felt a wave of hatred and disdain wash over her as she eyed the precious documents. "Oh, I will do as I please, Mr. Stringer. Don't you fret."