Chapter 15

"This reminds me of the luncheon at Lady Denham's!" Arthur said. He was seated next to Diana, who was seated next to Mrs. Campion. "All we need is a pineapple!"

Charlotte caught Lady Worcester's curious look and explained. "Lady Denham held a luncheon in honor of Miss Georgiana Lambe, the heiress from Antigua. At the luncheon, we were all seated at the table and Lady Denham had a very special pineapple."

"And I carved it!" Arthur continued, mimicking the motion with his hands. "It was so beautiful I just couldn't help myself. But there was a wee problem: it was rotten on the inside!"

Charlotte, Mary, Tom, Arthur, Diana, and Lady Babington began laughing at the memory. They had all been present at the luncheon. Lady Worcester, Lord Babington, and the other guests did as well, if for nothing other than Arthur's gaiety. Even Sidney's lips turned slightly upward at the corners. Only Mrs. Campion remained unmoved.

"Ah, it's lovely to have all of us together again," Arthur said, his cheeks flushed from laughing so heartily. "You have been sorely missed, Miss Heywood. Sanditon just isn't the same without you."

"Thank you, Mr. Parker." Charlotte lowered her eyes, not entirely comfortable with the attention being bestowed upon her.

"Well, I can assure you there will be no rotten pineapples for dinner tonight," Lady Worcester added as pea soup was being served. She was still amused at the story.

"Oh, Miss Heywood, Mr. Stringer has asked about you." Arthur said.

"He has?" Charlotte asked. Luckily, everyone had begun to eat and was paying less attention to Arthur Parker.

"Oh, yes. Diana and I saw him last week and he asked how you were. I said that I had heard you were well from Mary. He agreed that Sanditon was better for you having been there."

"And how is Mr. Stringer faring?" Charlotte's interest was genuine. "I know it has been a few weeks since his father's passing."

"Mr. Stringer is faring well," Tom interjected. "He does miss his father greatly, but he is determined to carry on and honor his father by making Sanditon the grand destination it's meant to be."

"Well, it was very kind of Mr. Stringer to ask about me. Perhaps I shall write him." Charlotte ate a spoonful of soup and reflected on Mr. James Stringer. He had always been so thoughtful and a true friend to her. She almost wished Arthur hadn't mentioned the luncheon at Lady Denham's and Mr. Stringer. She began to miss Sanditon anew.

Sidney listened to the conversation intently. He would not go as far as to say he was jealous of Mr. Stringer, but Mr. Stringer had made it clear to Sidney at the regatta that he wished to be Charlotte's suitor. Sidney observed Charlotte's reaction to hearing Mr. Stringer's name. She had responded with her characteristic kindness, and Sidney could not help but wonder if she had a deeper affection for the man. Mr. Stringer was young, virile, and from everything Sidney had observed, an upstanding person. He would make for a good husband. And even if Charlotte hadn't considered Mr. Stringer before, would she consider him now that Sidney was to be married? The thought made it difficult for Sidney to swallow his soup.

Sidney was also still furious at Tom, and the mention of Mr. Stringer brought forth reminders of Tom's failings in Sanditon. Tom was the reason that Sidney was sitting across from Charlotte and not beside her; the reason he would spend the rest of his life with Mrs. Campion instead.

"So, you've spoken to Mr. Stringer then, Tom?" Sidney asked, unable to control himself.

"Why, yes, of course. We are in contact continually about the terrace repairs. You know that, Sidney."

"I am sure Mr. Stringer will be overjoyed to know that Sanditon has a benefactor in the Prince Regent. He and his workers will finally be paid on time."

Charlotte paused with her spoon suspended just above her bowl and looked around carefully. Mary was staring down at her lap; Arthur and Diana were shellshocked. Lady Worcester surveyed the scene silently, her eyes moving from Sidney to Tom then back to Sidney. Lord and Lady Babington shifted slightly in their seats. Mrs. Campion looked as mortified as Tom. Luckily, again, the guests at the other end of the table were having a lively discussion among themselves.

"Sidney," Mrs. Campion said gently but reproachfully, her high-pitched voice a smidge higher than normal. "Must we talk about business at dinner? Lady Worcester has gone to a great deal of trouble to host us."

"I just thought Mr. Stringer would welcome the news that he and his workers will now be receiving consistent payments," Sidney persisted. "I'm sure Tom cannot wait to return to Sanditon to inform him."

Tom paused for a moment before responding. "Yes, Mr. Stringer will be one of the first people I see when I return to Sanditon," he said tightly.

Sidney knew he had Tom where he wanted him. "Mr. Stringer is a most forgiving man. It takes a forgiving man to continue working when he hasn't been assured of a paycheck."

"Sidney!" Mrs. Campion said under her breath.

Charlotte slowly put her spoon down and stole a look at Sidney. He was staring at Tom with an inscrutable expression, but the tone in his voice belied hostility. She was not sure what had caused Sidney to speak to Tom in such a manner, especially now at the dinner table.

"He most certainly is," Tom replied. "Being able to forgive is an admirable virtue. Perhaps if we all tried to forgive others more often, we would be better for it."

Sidney inhaled then sighed as he turned to Mrs. Campion. "You are right, Eliza," he said. "It was highly inappropriate to mention Tom's business dealings here. Forgive me, Lady Worcester." He wasn't apologizing with true sincerity, but he hoped it would be enough to ease the tension.

"It is quite all right, Mr. Parker," Lady Worcester said. "I can see how passionate you and your brother are about Sanditon and the men who work there. I would much rather witness a conversation between men who are committed to their entrepreneurial pursuits than not. Business is nothing without passion, as is life. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Walker? You are the philosopher in our midst."

Mr. Walker, a slender man with a sharp nose and a finely trimmed moustache looked up from his soup. "Why, yes, Lady Worcester. Yes, I agree."

What followed was a lively conversation on the merits of passion. There were many different kinds of passion: passion for food and wine, passion for music, passion for money, passion for love. Some guests argued that passion was necessary for an enjoyable life; others argued that passion was something that could be done without. Passion interfered with judgement and caused more harm than good.

"It is always good practice to have a level head in business," Mr. Graham said. He owned a fleet of ships and had made his fortune from transporting goods to Europe. "Otherwise one will make decisions that have a flawed foundation and no forethought will be given to the consequences."

"Can passion and sensibility not co-exist?" Lady Worcester asked. "Charlotte, what do you think?"

Charlotte had been quiet, taking in the conversation. Other than debating whether it was better to marry for love or not at Lady Denham's luncheon, she had never engaged in a philosophical discussion. She found it all so intriguing.

"Well," she said, choosing her words carefully so as to not make a fool of herself in front of Lady Worcester's esteemed guests, "I have no experience with business. But I should think that passion and sensibility can exist concurrently. One can...have a passion for something but also be sensible about it. For example, I spoke with Lord and Lady Sterling earlier. They are quite passionate about their art patronage, but they are very discerning about who they choose to support. They want the best artists, but not just the best artists. They want the best artists who will take their patronage earnestly."

Lady Worcester smiled at Charlotte's articulate response. "Well, Mr. Graham, I believe Miss Heywood has provided a reasoned rebuttal. Have you changed your mind?"

"No," Mr. Graham said firmly and began to laugh. "But Miss Heywood has done an admirable job of illustrating her point."

"Well, I for one believe passion and sensibility can co-exist," Lady Worcester continued. "Shall we take marriage for an example? The prevailing thought is that love and passion do not make for a suitable marriage. It is more acceptable to marry someone with whom you have nothing in common because marriage is a financial arrangement. But several of you would disagree with that sentiment, especially Mrs. Campion and Mr. Parker. Isn't that so, Mrs. Campion?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Mrs. Campion replied, looking at Sidney. "I have a deep and profound affection for Sidney, and he has the same for me."

"And would you prefer to marry for passion, Miss Heywood?" Lady Worcester asked.

Charlotte was unsure where Lady Worcester was going with all of this, but that was nothing new. "Indeed. I intend to marry for passion and be prudent about it. I do not...I do not think I could live without passion." Charlotte's eyes met Sidney's for the briefest of moments and then he looked away. She had not known the definition of passion until she fell in love with him. Having experienced the feeling, the all-consuming nature of wanting to care for him so intensely, she couldn't imagine existing without it. That was why she was here in London, after all.

"Mr. Graham, now do you change your mind?" Lady Worcester teased.

"The answer is still no," Mr. Graham said, seriously but in jest at the same time. "Passion only leads to disaster. That is why I have chosen not to marry."

"You have chosen not to marry because you would be forced to spend your fortune on your wife," Lord Sterling said, and the table erupted in laughter. "I have known you for years and spending money on dresses and jewels is most unpalatable to you."

Sidney even smiled at the retort, something he had done rarely throughout the dinner. Lady Worcester's guests were an interesting lot. Lady Worcester herself became more interesting by the second. She was pretending as if they had not spoken the day before. She knew he was not marrying Mrs. Campion because he loved her. Perhaps she planned to keep that secret to herself because it was of no consequence to her. Perhaps her assistance with the Prince Regent was just as she said: she wished to help Sanditon because of Charlotte.

Charlotte. He was looking straight at her when she said she did not think she could live without passion. He thought he could have lived without passion before he met her. In truth, he did not know what passion was until he met her. He wondered if she knew that. Did he make it clear, on the balcony as he began to propose, that what he had felt for Mrs. Campion was nothing compared to what he felt for Charlotte? He was being honest when he said he had never wanted to be under another's power before. He would have walked through fire for Charlotte. Now, she must think it was all a lie. That was what had caused him the most heartache: the fear that she thought he had been untruthful with her. The fear that she believed her efforts to unlock his heart were all for naught because he was nothing more than a scoundrel.

The dinner continued without additional controversy. It was a sumptuous meal; Sidney counted twenty dishes including pigeons, roast chicken, and venison; asparagus, beetroot, watercress, potato croquettes, and more wine. He was filled from the main courses and the wine and only ate a small slice of a fruit tart for dessert. He knew there was more drinking to be had, as the women headed for the drawing room and the men remained in the dining room, and he was glad of it. His mood had improved slightly with the consumption of wine. He was still sour over the situation he found himself in, but he was beginning to resign himself to the fact that there was nothing to be done about it. Friday was nearing with each passing minute.

Mrs. Campion pulled Sidney to the side of the dining room before leaving to join the other women. "What was the meaning of your earlier conversation with your brother?" she asked, her tone sharp.

"It was nothing," Sidney said. Her question was threatening to ruin his improving outlook.

"I disagree. It was embarrassing. Lady Worcester may have been impressed with your passion, but I am not. Do try to control yourself for the remainder of the evening." She fixed him with a glare, then walked across the hall to the drawing room.

Sidney watched her leave and the evening's previous events came flooding back. He began to fume all over again.

"You look as though you're having a difficult night," Lord Babington said. "Why don't you go outside? The fresh air will help."

Sidney heaved a sigh. "Yes. You're probably right."

"And when you come back, I want to hear all about the Prince Regent's investment in Sanditon. In addition to Miss Heywood being here, I assume that is what you meant when you said the past few days have been strange?"

"Yes. Exactly." Sidney stopped there; he valued Lord Babington's friendship but the full story of how the Prince Regent came to invest in Sanditon would remain hidden. Sidney would tell Lord Babington what he could when he returned. He walked to a set of French doors and opened one of them, then closed it quietly behind him. The night air and the grass beneath his feet calmed him, and for the first time in the longest time, he looked up at the stars. He stared at the stars and the crescent moon for a few moments. Then his concentration was broken at the sound of another door closing.

Charlotte stepped outside, welcoming the cool air. She had been talking with the other women in the drawing room and trying her best to avoid Mrs. Campion without making it seem obvious, but the effort was wearing on her. She thought the air would do her some good. She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly in relief; the evening was almost over. Another hour or two and she would have survived. She still had no definitive answer as to whether Sidney was truly happy with Mrs. Campion. She simply could not tell by observing their interactions. Sidney had become unknowable again. His expression gave no hints as to his feelings. He talked with Mrs. Campion throughout the dinner and barely smiled. According to Mrs. Campion, of course, all was well. Charlotte wondered if she should leave well enough alone. Lady Worcester's plan had changed nothing. All evening, Charlotte kept waiting for something to happen; she wasn't sure exactly what. They were all here together—Charlotte, Sidney, Mrs. Campion—and yet nothing had happened to change the circumstances. Perhaps Lady Worcester had changed her mind about the plan and neglected to tell Charlotte. Charlotte decided she would ask Lady Worcester in the morning; she knew she would be too exhausted to do so after all the guests had departed. She was too exhausted now. Pretending to support Sidney and Mrs. Campion's engagement had taken an extraordinary toll on her. She thought back to the discussion about passion and sensibility. Is there a point when passion becomes at odds with reason? When the thing pursued out of passion is no longer worth pursuing? Up until tonight, Charlotte would have said no. Sidney was everything she had dreamt of. She would have done anything to spend the rest of her days with him. But now, she simply wished the anguish she felt would disappear. She was beginning to finally resign herself to the fact that perhaps the river was too wide to cross.

Charlotte inhaled again and exhaled. The sound was loud enough for Sidney to hear.

"Is someone there?" he asked. It was completely dark, but he could see a shadow nearby.

"Mr. Parker?" Charlotte asked, squinting to make him visible.

"Yes, it is me." Sidney instinctively walked toward the sound of her voice. He stopped when he could see her clearly, leaving a few feet between them.

Charlotte was flustered. How long had he been standing there? "Oh, Mr. Parker. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were outside. I shall go back in—"

"Nonsense. There is enough room out here for the both of us."

Charlotte could see him now and she wanted to move even closer to him, but she stayed where she was. "Are you...are you enjoying the evening?"

Sidney hesitated before responding. He was delighted that she wanted to have a conversation with him. "Uh, yes. Lady Worcester is renowned for her dinner parties, so I am told. She certainly has not disappointed. This is the finest I've attended."

"Well, I've had little to compare it to. Lady Denham's luncheon would be the most comparable gathering. But I agree that it is the finest I've attended as well."

"Good. Then I presume you are enjoying your second visit to London more than your first?"

"My first visit wasn't completely terrible," Charlotte said. "There were delightful aspects about it. The ball, for example." She knew she was probably admitting more than she should. What good would come of remembering moments they had shared?

"Ah, yes. The ball." Sidney's stomach twisted at the thought of their magical dance.

Charlotte thought it best to change the subject. "Anyway, it's wonderful news that the Prince Regent is investing in Sanditon."

"Yes, it is."

"I do hope I'll see the terrace someday when it is repaired." Charlotte paused, knowing she probably shouldn't broach the subject of Sidney's exchange with Tom. But she decided to forge ahead regardless. The acrimony between the brothers had been weighing on her since it happened. "Mr. Parker, may I ask you something?"

Sidney was uncertain of what she would ask but he said yes so that their conversation would continue. He wished to do nothing more than talk with her. Though he did not show it, he was invigorated by the intellectual conversation at dinner. It was the kind of conversation he knew he could have with Charlotte because she was so clever, but they had never truly had the chance.

"I am sure it is none of my concern, but...is there something amiss between you and your brother? At dinner, there seemed to be...well, you seemed to be...angry with him."

Sidney wanted to say: Yes, I am angry at Tom because he has made it so I cannot be with you. But instead he offered, "Tom and I do not always see things in the same manner. It is nothing to be concerned about."

"Well, I hope that is the case. I have been thinking a great deal about Mr. Stringer lately."

Sidney felt a stab of jealousy at the sound of James Stringer's name. "Why is that?" he questioned, his voice strained.

"I think about him and how his father passed away in the terrace fire. The last words he spoke to his father were in anger. I know disagreements occur amongst family. But Mr. Parker, I would ask that you consider how much you love your brother and how much he loves you. Whatever it is that you do not see in the same manner, it is not worth the ruin of your relationship."

Sidney was listening to her, but he was not yet ready to forgive Tom. "Some deeds are too egregious to forget so easily, Miss Heywood," he said softly.

Charlotte suddenly understood that Sidney was angry with Tom for Tom's mismanagement of Sanditon. The mismanagement that had led Sidney to propose to Mrs. Campion. Charlotte's heart went to him in that moment. He still did not love Mrs. Campion. He still did not wish to marry her.

She felt tears begin to swell behind her eyelids and willed them to stop. Sidney had been in as much anguish as she had been all this time. Perhaps even more so. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Well, I encourage you to try. Mr. Stringer cannot have another conversation with his father."

Sidney's eyes flickered over her as he considered what she said. Deep inside, he knew she was right. He should forgive Tom. "You always have a way of illuminating a situation, Miss Heywood."

Charlotte smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Parker. I should...I should go inside now."

"Yes, of course." Sidney watched her turn and head into the drawing room. He wondered if that would be the last conversation they ever have.

Charlotte began looking frantically for Lady Worcester as she closed the door. She needed to know what Lady Worcester was planning and she needed to know immediately. All was not lost with Sidney, but she feared if he left, it would be. But before she could go any further, Mrs. Campion impeded her path.

"Did you enjoy your conversation with Mr. Parker?" Mrs. Campion asked.

Charlotte was startled; she had not seen Mrs. Campion in the urgency to find Lady Worcester. "I...I stepped outside for air. I was unaware Mr. Parker was there."

"I do not believe you," Mrs. Campion said. She was composed but her voice cut through the air like a newly sharpened knife.

"Well, that is the truth." Charlotte attempted to move past Mrs. Campion and Mrs. Campion moved in the same direction to impede her again.

"Well, since it seems the truth is of utmost importance to you, I will share what I know to be true. Sidney does not love you. He has never loved you. Whatever infatuation you have with him is simply that. He and I will be married on Friday and your presence here will do nothing to stop it. Furthermore, it would behoove you to leave London as soon as possible. You are nothing but a farm girl from Willingden; you do not belong here. You are not wanted here. You should return home. Or back to that travesty of a resort, Sanditon. It really is no concern of mine where you go, as long as you leave."

Charlotte was shaking at the viciousness of Mrs. Campion's words. She was unable to utter a word in response.

"It truly will be better for you, being with your own kind," Mrs. Campion continued. "I know it does not seem that way now. I know you had dreams of a reunion with Sidney and of taking your place in proper society. But some things simply are not meant to be."

Mrs. Campion then turned and left to join the other women as if she had said nothing hurtful to Charlotte. Charlotte was still frozen by the French doors, attempting to understand what had just happened. She had never experienced such cruelty. She did not know people were even capable of such cruelty. Her search for Lady Worcester was forgotten. She only wanted to go to her room and forget that this night happened. She made her way quickly through the room, ignoring the calls from Mary and Lady Babington, and made it to the doorway before Lady Worcester intercepted her.

"Charlotte, where are you going?" Lady Worcester asked. Genevieve was with her, carrying a tray of velvet boxes.

"I...I'm not feeling well," Charlotte said. She could feel tears on the verge of falling again and blinked rapidly to ward them off.

"What is it? Did you eat something that is not agreeing with you? Did you have too much wine?" Lady Worcester smiled, teasing Charlotte.

"I—"

"Come, I don't want you to miss the best part of the evening. Presents!" Lady Worcester linked arms with Charlotte and urged her back into the room. "Ladies, as a show of my appreciation for your attendance tonight, I have chosen presents for each of you. The men have received cigars from Cuba; for you, jewelry." Lady Worcester began removing velvet boxes from the tray with a flourish. "If you are not aware of Mr. Nigel Collins' work, let this be your first introduction. He is a master jeweler; I have been to many places in Europe and he is one of the best craftsman I have seen. I have selected a piece that I believe each of you will cherish."

Lady Worcester gave each woman a box. Some were square, some were oblong. Some were small, some were large. As the boxes were opened, each woman expressed her delight and excitedly displayed their gifts. There were ruby brooches, sapphire necklaces, and pearl bracelets. Genevieve moved about the room, assisting each woman with adding the jewelry to her person. She had placed the tray on a side table and two boxes remained.

"Charlotte, my dear, this is for you." Lady Worcester smiled and handed Charlotte a large, blue, square-shaped box. Then she took the final box, a smaller black box, and crossed the room, giving it to Mrs. Campion. "And as my special guest for tonight, Mrs. Campion, this is for you."

Charlotte still only wanted to go upstairs to her room. She looked at all the women enjoying their presents and struggled to find joy in the exercise. But she did not wish to be rude. She could hear Mrs. Campion's exclamation of surprise at her gift, a diamond, floral-shaped brooch with three pear-shaped diamonds dangling like tassels and watched as she held it up for everyone to see.

"Charlotte, what did you receive?" Mary said, noticing that Charlotte had not yet opened her box. Mary had observed Mrs. Campion talking with Charlotte and wondered if something was wrong. Charlotte did not seem to be herself.

Charlotte gave Mary a small smile and slowly opened her box. The scream that left her mouth was blood-curdling.