Georgiana and Charity Entworth arrived to take tea the following afternoon and were quite overtaken with the humour of the gossip being spread about town. It would seem the someone who had spied their swimming earlier that week had thought fit to share it with all and sundry.
Charlotte was mortified, George was torn between amusement and horror, the combination of which resulted in a rather constipated expression, and Georgiana delighted in increasing their discomfort, declaring that not even she would dare to take to the seas entirely unclothed.
"We were not naked! Please stop speaking as though we were!" Charlotte begged of her friend several times before Georgiana was satisfied with the extent of her needling.
"Oh, all right! All right, Charlotte, I'll stop." she ceded. "For now." Charlotte groaned and knew it would be a long time before her friend would forget the incident. She could only hope some other terribly scandalising tidbit made itself known soon that would overshadow her own.
George choked on his tea as he sipped it when the girl turned to him and boldly declared that the general consensus was that Charlotte was very lucky to have such a well-proportioned husband, and that she had overheard one of the more lewd of her acquaintances, who had been the very one to spy them, remark most favourably on… well she would not repeat what was said for it was not for the ears of innocents such as her two friends.
The expanse of Charlotte's vision grew and she felt her jaw drop. "Georgiana!"
Miss Entworth discreetly covered a snicker at Lady Morpeth's outcry but thought it prudent to persuade Georgiana to find another topic to speak of and whispered in her ear something to that effect. Georgiana capitulated and diverged into the safer pastures of the plans for that summer's Regatta.
"There has never been quite the same flood of people as there was that first summer, but the event itself grows larger and more spectacular with every year that passes." she said. "The boat race has become quite the tamest of all the activities."
"Oh, I'm so looking forward to it, my Lady! I've never seen a boat race before and it sounds very thrilling. It is not often we get to see our local gentleman in only their shirtsleeves and trousers. Was is not very shocking the first time?" Charity's word overflowed in a rapid tumble and Charlotte had a little trouble making sense of them.
"I… I can't say that it was, no. The only shocking thing, I think, was Mr Crowe's awful skills at the rudder. But then he was… imbibing while Lord Babington and Mr Parker were rowing and caused them to drive themselves and the other boat into the riverbank!" Charlotte laughed as she remembered the man's inebriation.
The rest of the party laughed as Georgiana recounted other instances of Mr Crowe's drunkenness and its results. Given the gentleman's appearance for the Regatta every summer since, the young woman had built a wealth of tales that were varyingly alarming and ridiculous.
George, having little experience of Sanditon, was not able to truly appreciate the stories told for a lack of understanding of the reactions of the individuals involved. However, being acquainted with Mr Crowe's younger brother and they both having been in their first year at Eton as he was in his last, he could relate some of his misadventures in Town and during his schooling. The women had laughed uproariously at hearing of his numerous escapades and quite struggled to breathe during the telling of a time when Mr Crowe had been so lost to sobriety and his brothers had persuaded him that a goat was actually a girl who wanted to kiss him. Lout that the man was, he had been all too happy to comply and enjoyed a rather rude awakening to the animal's bleating the next morning.
Conversation eventually returned to the topic of the Regatta and the events to be had that year. The cricket match now always occurred the day before and was considered as the beginning of the event which now spanned a full week. The boat race and sandcastle competition continued to be held on the first full day of activities while a large garden party on the last day marked its end. The Midsummer ball always occurred on the last evening. Other attractions had come to include treasure hunts and picnics and other little competitions for the children and card parties, musicales and readings for the men and women.
Charlotte gave her guests her whole attention as they described the growth of the event and could hardly contain her excitement to see it for herself. George, who was less invested in the affair than she, listened avidly all the same and contented himself with his wife's happiness and the knowledge that he would see it all for himself the following week.
The girls had remained for almost a full two hours before deciding it was time to take their leave and, with promises to find themselves in each other's company again the very next day, leisurely meandered through the streets back to Mrs Griffiths attentive care.
While George and Charlotte spent what remained of the time until Lady Denham's dinner party engaged in pursuits to be found only the nation's spa towns and in company with the colourful denizens of Sanditon, Sidney and Eliza were in the throws of yet another lengthy argument on their favourite point of contention. Charlotte Heywood.
Sidney walked haltingly, mired in self-doubt and conflict, as he approached the door to his wife's bedchamber. She had been stonily silent since their return home from Tom and Mary's home the previous day. He new all too well that her displeasure did not bode for an easy interaction. The conversation they were about to have, if indeed it could be termed a conversation, was not going to be pleasant.
As he knocked at the door and let himself into the room he could only be glad that he had delivered Thomas into the care of his brother's wife once more that morning. The mistress' chamber was a riot of cushions and clothes strung about the floor and dangling from furniture with shattered pieces of porcelain by the fire. Her anger was worse than he thought, he realised as he observed her glaring at her own reflection.
He approached slowly, arms held slightly before him, submissive in position, as one would a cornered, wild animal. Her temper snapped as he drew closer, turning sharply to face him and levelling him with one of her coldest looks. He waited for her to speak first; let her lose some of the wind from her sails before he broached the sensitive subject they needed to speak on.
"You want to talk about the little mouse." She said with a cruel upward tilt of her chin.
Oh. Oh, well that didn't go to plan, did it? That was unfortunate. For him. The harpy he was married to probably cared very little for his feelings about how their confrontation went. How to respond without making things worse?
"Are you going to speak or shall I."
Evidently silence didn't work. He swallowed attempting to offset the dryness that had lodged in his throat. "Eliza, you… you, ah…" He swallowed again. "You should not have spoken as you did." There. That was better. Or at least, it was something.
"I should not have spoken as I did?" she repeated flatly. "I spoke exactly as I should! Who does the girl think she is, to gad about in such a way as she does? To speak to me the ways she did. And you only sat there and let her continue!" Her voice rose in volume and pitch as she spoke and stood from the stool she was sat on part way through the bile that spilled from her mouth.
"It does not matter how she gads about! It should be no concern of yours!" he shot back straightening and glaring down at her.
"I will determine what should and should not be my concern." she said. "And anyone who our son may be exposed to is of concern to me. I would prefer she be kept from him entirely but I know that is not like to happen so long as your brother calls her friend! I do not want Thomas being influenced by the manners of a country nobody."
"She may have been a country nobody once, Eliza, but not any longer. You insulted a person who is not your inferior or your equal but your social superior."
"The little mouse is not my social superior." Eliza hissed.
"You may choose not to recognise it but it cannot be denied. In fact, Lady Morpeth was your social superior even before her marriage. She was always a gentleman's daughter. You, however, were born to cits and have married cits, for did not both I and the late Mr Campion make our fortunes in trade, Wife?" Sidney knew it was a mistake to have raised that particular fact to her awareness at that particular moment.
The room was silent as their argument rose to a crescendo and halted, teetering on a brink. Eliza's lips were pressed into a line so firmly that all colour had been wiped from them, her bearing still and tightly coiled. Sidney could feel the heat of a vein throbbing at his temple and his heart hammering as he struggled to maintain the tight hold on his own temper.
Perhaps it would be better to continue this at another time? Sidney thought when faced with his wife's growing fury. But Eliza would not have that and spoke again as her husband moved to leave. They would have this conversation and they would have it now. It was long overdue.
She let the tension within uncoil and said, more softly but still harshly, "I am not a fool, Sidney Parker."
Sidney froze with his hand resting upon the doorknob. He recognised that tone; was intimately familiar with it. Had he not spoken with it himself when told Charlotte… Lady Morpeth that he had intended to offer for her and then disappointed both their hopes? When he had said that final goodbye on the clifftop road that took her away from them?
"We had not been married for very long when I realised you had not really wanted to offer for me. I knew you wanted her but I deluded myself into not seeing it. I still wanted you then, Sidney, and I was not prepared to let our choices separate us again. I hate her. I hate her because I know that, given even half an opportunity, you would choose her and I would lose you." Eliza had been approaching him slowly as she spoke and reached out to him as she finished speaking.
Sidney jerked away from her touch and turned his head in her direction; not so far as to risk meeting her gaze but enough for her to see the profile of his face and the clenching of the muscles long his jawline.
"Your choices, Eliza. They were your choices." He reminded her and pulled the door open then, striding out into the hallway and shutting it harshly behind him.
He had to get out of that house.
The end of the week saw the arrival of high society en masse, spearheaded by the sudden appearance of Lady Susan. The Marchioness, having arrived late the evening before, had been met with Sidney Parker who was out on yet another deeply brooding walk in the fading light of the day. It had been a rather uncomfortable encounter as the lady had no great fondness for the gentleman and the gentleman had barely managed an acknowledging nod before moodily stomping on his way.
It had quickly come to the attention of Sanditon's residents that the bitterness shrouding Mr and Mrs Parker's marriage had seemingly come to a head and the domestics, who enjoyed a surge in number during the week of the Regatta, were only too happy to impart on their temporary masters and mistresses the knowledge of his general incivility and boorishness and her unusually withdrawn temperament.
So, it came as no real surprise to Lady Susan to learn the next day, upon calling unannounced and asking after Lady Morpeth, that Charlotte and George's arrival had likely been the instigating incident of that choice piece of gossip. Though she was disappointed to learn that she had missed the opportunity to witness her first encounters with both halves of the unfortunate pair.
"Oh. Well, then I shall simply content myself with espying what altercations yet remain." She… well, she didn't quite shrug, that would be unbecoming of a lady, but the blasé little moue she made with her shoulders had a similar effect.
Charlotte had responded to this comment with a rare look of irritation and expressed her wish that people would find something else to fixate on than her history with the Parkers. She did not understand the appeal of it and confessed the attention only made for more embarrassment. Lady Susan laughed at her friend's naiveté and confided that she still had a great deal to learn about the ways of the Ton.
Lady Susan was very much looking forward to seeing what the week of the Regatta would bring. She was certain there would be altercations aplenty to be entertained by. She certainly knew of some who would delight in the opportunity to flaunt their good fortune, and if their flaunting also happened to have the effect of tormenting a certain Sidney Parker then all the better.
