The week passed by with Charlotte enjoying Sidney's company for at least a couple of hours every day. The party was to occur Saturday evening, with Sidney Parker leaving on Sunday.

It was now Thursday, and Mrs Mary Parker was in a state. Charlotte couldn't understand what Mary was so fussed about…only those who were close to them were coming. But distressed she was, and she continued to fret over things. "Mary, it's only a small gathering. One that you've had twice this week," said Charlotte as the cook left with the menu.

"I know. But I want it to be perfect for Sidney. Who knows when we'll see him? He'll be off planning weddings and goodness knows what else!" Mary left in a state.

Charlotte's mouth was dry. She sat down and picked up one of the napkins, and folded it. This past week had seen her with Sidney every day…in fact, she had spent time with him every day since she arrived save two. She laughed with him. Spoke about her views, and listened to his. She found that they agreed on most things, and the things they did not, they were able to amicably reconcile.

She was loathe to admit it, but she felt as though he was the most well suited person for her that she could fathom.

Charlotte stood and looked out of the window into the vast garden of Trafalgar House. Mr Stringer had not offered her any proposal, and Allison had been assuaged; she was now comforted by the fact that James had not come to her sister with any offers. And though Allison had no reason to believe he wouldn't, she knew that Charlotte would not accept him. That was also a comfort to her.

John had been enjoying the company of Georgiana nearly every day as well. He was not the most forthcoming person when it came to such matters, but Charlotte detected something akin to fierce admiration, if indeed, not love, in John's voice now when he spoke of her. She took note that he didn't speak of her often, which was odd, for he tended to speak effusively over those whom he appreciated. But he had gotten within himself, and now avoided the conversation concerning one Ms Lambe, and Charlotte was neither surprised nor had she expected this. She attempted in vain to draw him out, but it seemed he was unwilling to oblige.

And so all of the Heywood's were suffering to a degree. It was difficult to know whose pain was more acute, though Charlotte was apt to believe it to be Allison, for unrequited love is a torment.

She swallowed and turned back to the room. In just a couple of days, this room would be filled, and she would be spending her last evening with Sidney…for henceforth he must be only Mr Parker.

"Miss Heywood!" Tom Parker entered the room. "How are you this fine morning? Helping Mary?" he poured himself some tea.

"I was…she left a bit ago, I know not where," Charlotte smiled and sat down.

"Ah, she's always busy with something," he cooed. "But how are things with you, Charlotte?" he sipped.

"I'm well enough."

"Yes?" he looked at her with some concern.

"As well as can be expected," she amended.

He nodded. "Sidney will be leaving on Sunday."

"Yes I know."

He nodded. "I must apologize, Charlotte. It's my fault that the two of you are in such a position."

"Not at all," and she poured herself some tea.

"No, please allow me to say this. I know that Sidney loves you, Charlotte. And I can see that you love him…and it is my fault that I didn't purchase the insurance to save Sanditon. It was always something that I meant to do…and if I had to do it over again, of course I would," he looked at her. "I'm so very, very sorry."

"Of course," she nodded. "I cannot pretend that I'm not quite upset about all of it," Charlotte began. "But I know it wasn't purposeful, and that you feel badly about it."

He nodded. "Well. What will you do for the remainder of the day?"

"I'm not certain. Perhaps walk in the garden for a bit until supper. Mary invited Allison and John."

"How is Mr Stringer?"

Charlotte smiled. "He's busy."

"Good. Excellent. Well…as a budding architect, I imagine he should be."

"It is unfortunate that he's so often away, but…it is a credit to his character that he takes his employment so seriously."

Tom nodded in agreement.

"Would you mind, Mr Parker, if I borrowed one of your books and took it outside to read?" she was admiring his collection.

"No not at all. Help yourself, Miss Heywood," and he stood, leaving.

She walked over to the bookshelves and started reading some of the titles. Charlotte loved verse, but did not have much experience with novels. She chose one and left with her bonnet.

The day was lovely…it appeared as though some low hanging clouds were rolling in, but none were terribly dark, so she believed the only thing they'd do would be to offer some shade as they covered the sun. She tied her bonnet and began walking through the park. Trafalgar House boasted a rather large park, with slightly sloping grounds and wildflowers. Since it was August, and the summer was still blooming, there were plenty of flowers about. She walked over to a smallish garden of concentrated flowers and sat down, opening the book.

It was The Monk, by Matthew Lewis.

Charlotte blushed. She had heard of this novel, and none of it was good. Scandalous and depraved were two of the most common adjectives she believed she heard about it. She swallowed, not knowing what to do…

Should she read it? She would be such a knave to do so…

"Miss Heywood!"

Charlotte snapped the book shut and turned to see Sidney approaching. She smiled. "Hello, Mr Parker."

He walked up to the garden's edge. "Enjoying the sunshine?"

"Very much."

"Are you all alone, then?"

She nodded.

"Might I join you?"

"Of course," and she slid the book under the skirt of her dress. "How are you today, Mr Parker?"

"Well enough. Mary is in a fit with this party. I can't understand it."

"I imagine she only wants to make certain that you enjoy yourself."

"I don't doubt it. But she need only invite you, Miss Heywood, and I would have all the enjoyment I require," he looked at her.

Charlotte blushed. "We should stop saying such things, Mr Parker."

"What? Do you mean the truth?"

"Whatever it is. It's not helpful."

Sidney looked out at the house below. "No. And if you are uncomfortable…"

"It's not that. It's more like…" she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Shall I leave you alone, Miss Heywood?" he looked back at her now.

She only just realized how close he was. And she felt ill at the prospect. "No," she breathed. "No, I should not welcome that."

"Good," he returned in a whisper. "For being near you sustains me."

Charlotte nodded, and watched as he tore his gaze from her and reached for a flower in between them. It was a white daisy. "For you. Put in your Heraclitus book," he smiled.

"My Heraclitus book?"

"Wasn't that what you were reading? I know Tom has a copy."

"Oh!" and she touched the book…"No," she choked. "No…in fact I hadn't read a page of this."

"What is it?"

"Ah…well…" she blushed. "Nothing of consequence. I've never heard of it," she lied.

"No?" he reached for it.

"Let's go back," and she stood, daisy and book in hand.

"All right," he crookedly smiled, and stood. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes of course. Why should you ask?" she she started back down the hill, into the basin where Trafalgar House sat.

"You're behaving in a peculiar manner…" he caught her up. "What is the book, Miss Heywood?"

She started to run. "Nothing!" and though it was mostly a game now, she honestly did not want him to know what she was reading. Or not reading. What would he think of her!

Sidney followed suit, then grabbed her elbow. He pulled her against him. They were both in a pant. He looked down at her. Careful, Sidney. You forget yourself…for he was staring at her mouth. He swallowed, catching his breath. He noticed that she, too, was looking at his mouth. "Charlotte," he breathed.

But she backed away. "Excuse me, Mr Parker."

He watched as she walked into the house.


Supper was a bit more quiet than usual. John seemed to be completely preoccupied. Allison was taciturn. And Charlotte was attempting to avoid eye contact with Sidney. She was a bit embarrassed by her display that afternoon.

Sidney, for his part, was overwrought. He thought that he had made Charlotte so uncomfortable that she would likely ignore him until he left. And this, he could not bear. He wanted desperately to go to her and ask to speak with her alone, but he knew she would only despise him further.

Tom and Mary chatted away about things. About the new construction happening with Sanditon, about the estimates he had received, about the children…they almost seemed oblivious to the disconcerted nature of their guests.

Dinner was through, and Tom asked if Sidney would join him for a cigar.

And Charlotte watched as they went out to the side veranda. "John, Allison, will you both not care to have a turn in the garden?"

Neither of them made much of a fuss, but stood. "Mrs Parker?" John asked.

"No thank you, Mr Heywood. I need to see to some business. And we need an after dinner port," she smiled, standing.

The three Heywood's walked out into the falling twilight. Torches had been lit, and the stars were just starting to bloom in the sky. "We are a miserable lot," said Charlotte after a fashion.

"True," said John.

"Why, John? What's the matter with you?" asked Allison.

"I'm afraid that Miss Lambe has taken a fancy to me."

Charlotte looked at him. "But why should that be cause for concern?"

"Well, though I like her very much, she is desirous to move back to Antigua. Permanently. And I do not know that I would be willing to engage myself thusly."

"Do you love her, John?" Allison stopped walking.

"I …" he swallowed. "I believe so."

"You believe so?" asked Charlotte. "Don't you know?"

"How does one know, Charlotte?"

She smiled. "If you need to ask, you aren't."

"Better without it, I say," said Allison hotly.

"Now sister. That reeks of bitterness and resentment," said Charlotte.

"Well. How would you feel if Sidney Parker were in love with me?" she spat.

"Allison! Are you in love with Mr Stringer?" John gasped.

And Allison burst into tears. "Oh, John!" she cried. "Ever so much."

"Dearest," John went to her. "Love is truly awful," he put his arm around her.

"Yes it is," said Charlotte. "But it is also wonderful…" and she touched Allison's hand as she held fiercely to her brother. "I'm so sorry, Allison."

She pulled away. "It's not your fault."

"Nor is it yours. Oh! I wish there was a happy ending to this for all of us," she despaired. "Perhaps we should all just go home and see to our wounds."

"That I should not wish to happen," said a voice from behind them. Sidney Parker stepped out of the shadow.

"Mr Parker. How long were you there?" asked Charlotte.

"Only a minute or so."

"Come, Allison. Let me get you some port," John led her inside.

Charlotte watched as her siblings left her alone with Sidney. He stepped toward her. "You'll forgive my behavior this afternoon, Miss Heywood. I often seem to forget myself around you."

She cleared her throat. "Do not trouble yourself. It was my fault for escalating the situation unnecessarily."

"It was not your fault. You were being playful…it's one of the things I so love about you."

"Please don't Mr Parker."

"Apologies," he took another step toward her. "I'm being selfish. But then, it's what I do best, is it not?"

"No," she looked at him. "No. I don't believe that to be true."

"You are too generous."

"You are a good man, Mr Parker. I would not care about you as I do if you were not."

"I can well believe it."

She smiled. "Shall we go in for some port?"

"Only after you answer a question for me."

Charlotte canted her head.

"What was the book you had?"

"Oh…" she blushed and dropped her gaze. "Must you know that?"

"With that response, yes I must."

She sighed. "The Monk."

"The…?"

Charlotte looked at him. "The Monk? Matthew Lewis?"

"Oh…" he smiled at her. "You're familiar with it, then?"

"Only incidentally. I've never read it. And I hadn't read a word when you happened upon me."

He laughed. "Never mind then, Miss Heywood. You are untarnished," he offered her his arm.

And she took it.

At that, they heard a horse approaching, with a rider atop it. He galloped up to the pair. "I'm looking for a Mr Sidney Parker."

"I'm Sidney Parker."

"A letter, sir," and he handed him a note.

Sidney took it, tipped the man, then looked at the letter.

It was from Eliza.


A/N: I hope to finish this this coming weekend. Probably just three more chapters!