Chapter 12

Sidney had spent most of the day finalizing his business affairs. Now that Lord Fairchild would be managing the terrace repairs, he canceled the meeting with the insurance company that was set for Monday. He met with his banker to ensure his finances were in order while he was away in Paris. He changed the travel arrangements to depart for Paris Friday afternoon rather than Tuesday morning. He was somehow able to do all of this while feeling a kind of devastation he didn't know was possible. It wasn't simply the fact that he was marrying a woman he did not like, much less love. It was also the fact that in a few hours, he would be in a room with Charlotte again, the woman he did love. He was not sure how he would endure it.

And then there was the still-smoldering anger towards his brother, Tom. The more he reflected on how his life had been irrevocably altered because of his brother, the more furious he became. Tom had attempted to apologize again after breakfast, but Sidney waved him off and left the house for his appointments. Every misguided decision Tom had made regarding Sanditon had led to Sidney's current predicament. Sidney often wondered what he could have done differently to change the course of things. He had said to Lady Worcester that if he had been there with Tom as Tom was bringing his idea for Sanditon to fruition, perhaps he could have steered Tom in a more sound direction. Instead, Sidney had been abroad, nursing a broken heart, as Tom had said. Sidney did not know what made him angrier: Tom's lack of awareness about his shortcomings as Sanditon's developer and his refusal to take any of the blame for those shortcomings, or his determination to lay his shortcomings at Sidney's feet. Tom knew that Sidney had been adversely affected by Mrs. Campion's rejection and he showed Sidney no kindness about it during their argument. Did Tom think Sidney lacked fortitude? Had Tom been thinking this for ten years and yesterday the truth finally revealed itself?

Sidney's business matters did not require him to be away the entire day, but nevertheless, he did not return to his house until it was time to prepare for Lady Worcester's dinner. He did not wish to be apart from his family. He wanted to entertain Arthur, Diana, Mary, and the children, as they would only be in London for a few more days. But he simply could not bring himself to do so with Tom present, and ignoring Tom in the family's presence would have been impolite.

When Sidney returned, the housekeeper said everyone was upstairs getting dressed. He could hear voices through closed doors as he slipped into his room unnoticed. He began to change into his evening attire and was pulling his shirt on when there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Sidney, it's Tom. The housekeeper said you had returned. May I come in?"

Sidney paused and considered Tom's request. Sidney still wasn't in the mood to talk, but he realized he could only avoid his brother for so long, especially since they were about to attend the dinner together. "Come in," he said.

The door creaked open and Tom entered. He closed the door behind him and approached Sidney carefully, taking small steps towards his brother.

"What is it, Tom?" Sidney continued dressing before the full-length mirror in the corner of his room.

Tom's head was slightly bowed as he spoke. "I...I wanted to see how you were. We haven't seen you all day. I know that you'll be leaving to ride with Mrs. Campion soon and we may not have much chance to talk at the dinner."

Sidney looked at Tom over his shoulder in the mirror. "I am well. And yourself?"

"Well, I must admit, dear brother, I've been better."

"Why is that?"

"Sidney, I said some awful things to you yesterday. You were just trying to help me, and I was less than appreciative. In fact, you've been trying to help me all along and I was blind to the fact."

Sidney reached for his vest and continued to dress without responding.

"Sidney, I told Mary about the Prince Regent's offer. She was delighted, of course, and then I told her about our argument." Tom stepped closer to his brother. "Sidney, I know."

Sidney stopped buttoning his vest and looked at Tom's reflection in the mirror. "You know what?"

"She told me you're only marrying Mrs. Campion to get the eighty thousand pounds for the terrace," Tom said quietly. "She told me you're in love with Charlotte."

Sidney thought his expression could not harden any further. He had not anticipated Mary would tell Tom. He did not fault her, as he imagined she had a good reason for telling Tom. But Sidney did not want to share any more of his vulnerabilities with Tom for fear of how Tom might use them against him later.

"I am nothing if not prideful, dear brother," Tom admitted. "I know that I cannot undo the trouble I have caused, but I am truly sorry. I will do anything I can to make this up to you."

"What I may have felt for Miss Heywood no longer matters," Sidney finally said, turning around and putting on his coat. "And so, there is no need for you to repeat what Mary told you."

"No, no, of course not. I will not breathe a word of it to anyone."

Sidney took one last look in the mirror and walked to the door. "I will see you at the dinner, Tom."

"Sidney," Tom called. "Sidney, I need to know that you forgive me."

"I do not see how that is possible yet." Sidney knew it wasn't what Tom wanted to hear, but he was being as truthful as he could. This conflict had been coming for some time; it was going to be difficult to put the pieces of their relationship back in the same places they had been before.

Sidney left the house and stepped into the waiting carriage. He had to put the conversation with Tom behind him for now. His full attention was needed for what was to come. He had not seen Mrs. Campion since the previous night, and he would be foolish to think she had forgotten about their last exchange. As the carriage traveled to her home, Sidney braced himself. He could no longer predict what she might say or do. He doubted that he had ever known with certainty what she might say or do.

Mrs. Campion's butler answered the door when Sidney arrived. Sidney stepped inside and had only a moment to wait before Mrs. Campion came down the stairs. She was wearing a purple silk dress with ruffles about the shoulders and hem. A matching ostrich feather extended from her hair. Strands of pearls accented her neckline and small pearls dangled from her ears.

"You look lovely," Sidney said, playing the role he was required to play.

She smiled, the rouge highlighting her cheeks. "Thank you. Shall we?"

Sidney offered his arm and she accepted. The butler handed her a rectangular blue velvet box as she left. Sidney assumed it was a gift for Lady Worcester, but he did not ask as he had no interest in it. He wanted to attend the dinner and end the evening as soon as possible.

Mrs. Campion was talkative during the ride to Lady Worcester's home, sharing the details of her very busy day. "I had my final dress fitting and the sleeves were still a bit loose at the wrists," she said. "It all took much longer than I expected. I simply do not understand what the difficulty was. My measurements were taken precisely three weeks ago. Nothing has changed. I was supposed to retrieve my earrings yesterday from the jeweler, but they were not ready, so I retrieved them today, much later than I intended because of the dress fitting. But they are beautiful, Sidney. I cannot wait for you to see them."

"I made the arrangements for us to depart for Paris on Friday afternoon," Sidney replied.

"Wonderful. Oh, Sidney, I am eagerly anticipating our dinner tonight. Aren't you?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Sidney replied dutifully.

"I hear Lady Worcester has a Chinese porcelain dish collection," Mrs. Campion continued. "Over one hundred pieces from the late 1700s. I wonder if our dinner table will be set with them."

Sidney listened as Mrs. Campion enthusiastically told him the history of Chinese porcelain. He was shocked that she mentioned nothing else about the night before, as if it had been completely forgotten. He almost wished that were not the case. He found that he much preferred a tongue-lashing to the tedium of hearing how dinner plates were made. He nodded and interjected questions at the appropriate time to maintain the illusion of interest, all the while knowing that they were nearing Lady Worcester's home. As the carriage entered the gate and rolled around the carriage way, he felt his pulse quicken and his hands begin to sweat. Charlotte was just beyond the front door. He had yearned for this moment more times than he could count. He desperately wished it were under different circumstances.