Their day was spent lazing on the grassy ground speaking of their future and all the things they wished for themselves and their children. They talked of their own childhoods and memories of all the adventures the had had with their friends and siblings; they spoke of life and love and loss and, when it occurred to him, George spoke of the day they met, it having been a year ago that day, which led them to speak of Russia.
They had eaten after their love making and, when the talking petered out, they walked among the trees and read to themselves and to each other and played games of cards with rules remade to better suit a pair than a group of four. It was nearing the that time when daylight would begin to leave them as they placed all those things that had been brought with them back into the baskets which, in the absence of food, were now sufficiently spacious to hold the blanket within and make the carrying of it a lesser burden for George as they made their way back to Sanditon.
Their time that evening would be engaged at a dinner party held by Tom and Mary and though Charlotte had considered, earlier in the day, crying off, she had subsequently decided against it. The departure from rigorous activity had been exactly what she needed and now she felt quite equal to the prospect of rejoining it.
They arrived home to discover that notes from Mary and Esther had been delivered in their absence. The note from Esther divulged the decision that, in order to affect some level of control over the damage caused to Miss Entworth's reputation following the events of the previous day, that young lady and Mr Crowe must be seen as being in the midst of courtship and the local society made to believe it was a connection of some duration. It was along this vein that Esther sought Charlotte's aid in convincing others thus.
Those who knew the truth, that there was no courtship, would need to subtly but publicly acknowledge prior knowledge of the false relationship or at the very least appear unsurprised by the news of it at that evenings dinner party. Charlotte, Esther and Mary, as suitably sensible and respectable matronly chaperones would be tasked with accompanying the pair over the next few weeks and revealing their like purpose in being seen in company with them previously. Mary's note served to inform them similarly.
Charlotte wondered at Eliza's not being included in the charade but, as she read what remained of Mary's missive, it was revealed that the other Mrs Parker's widely known dislike of Mr Crowe and unfamiliarity with the lady would lead people to assume it unlikely she would serve as chaperone for them. She would, however, have all the appearance of knowing of it despite confessing very little personal involvement in it.
Naturally, all those whom were fully informed were present at Trafalgar House that evening. In addition to the Parkers, Babingtons, Howards, Lady Denham, Mr Crowe and Miss Entworth, were the town's magistrate, a Mr Morton, and his wife, the reverend, Mr Hankins, a local Squire and few of the more successful local merchants. The wives of these merchants, to their benefit, were known to be officious gossips and it could be certain that every occurrence of the evening would be fodder for the conversations of all the other gossips come calling hours the next day if not sooner.
Tom and Mary's guests, those that were already present, were gathered in the drawing room when George and Charlotte arrived. They were greeted by Tom with his usual cheer and with more refinement by Mary but were granted only a very short while to engage pleasantries with the other couples before their attention was claimed by Georgiana who had approached with an overset Charity though her disquiet was not easily discerned. Georgiana spared no time in sharing the discussion that had been had the previous afternoon in more detail. Had the Ladies had the fortune to witness it, they would have been gratified at the exercising of tact and discretion shown then by the young woman.
Charlotte, who had determined very soon after making her acquaintance that she quite liked the younger girl, being a delightful mixture of good sense and amiability and liveliness, was pleased to hear that some conclusion had been made and action well under way. She only hoped it would be enough to prevent anything truly salacious being bandied about and negating all their efforts to the contrary.
Mr Crowe made his entrance just as Georgiana finished relating the particulars of the situation and, with a casual sort of resolve, was induced to join them. Charity quite visible became more unsettled at his approach and familiar manner of greeting her and her participation in their discussion, which could already be considered reserved, was quite abandoned in favour of a terse silence. Though it must be said that Mr Crowe was no more forthcoming with conversation than she was. He seemed to content himself with standing about sullenly, having achieved his object of seeking out the woman he would soon be publicly viewed as attached to as he had been advised to do by Parker and Babington and following only the most cursory of greetings to the other ladies.
"I cannot imagine either of you think yourselves very pleased with this business you have found yourselves in," Charlotte, who was herself hardly the very spirit of decorum, murmured lowly to the deject pair. One did not have to be very well informed on what was expected behaviour on the part of courting couples to know that the lack of solicitous consideration being displayed by Mr Crowe and Miss Entworth was not counted among them. "But you must at least convey the appearance of being pleased with one another when there are others who would observe you closely." She advised and then presented a lighter alternative for discussion before them.
George, who had been waylaid by the magistrate's wife; she had professed to recognise him and asked if he was not one of the Howards of Carlisle and when it was confirmed that he was, revealed she had grown up in Terrington which was but three miles from Castle Howard and descended into raptures on the delights of the area; had eventually found some success in excusing himself as the object of her attention and resolutely strode in his wife's direction.
He had caught the end of Charlotte's warning and could only agree. For a couple should, to outside spectators, be viewed as romantically attached, they looked to be in great need of cheering. So George resolved to aid his wife in achieving her purpose by providing some hearty humour and set to enthusing over his appreciation for fine horses and country sports. His attempts to lighten the gloomy atmosphere around the group proved reasonably successful as Mr Crowe ventured his own thoughts on the matter and even Miss Entworth could not deny the enjoyment she found in a ride across the fields or following the cliffs when an opportunity was to be had.
With a mutually agreeable vein of conversation embarked upon, George and Charlotte relinquished the task of carrying their friends' interaction into calmer waters and migrated to speak with the other people gathered in the room which was becoming a little crowded with the announcement of the final party to arrive.
They sought out Tom and Mary's company once more and were engaged in lighter interactions while the other couple maintained a watchful eye on their guests and any courting couples. Or, rather, Mary was attentively watchful even as her husband was inattentively flitting between being engaged by his wife, importuning his guests and making hearty declarations of his enjoyment, agreement or disagreement with; any opinion he had that he thought worthy of being shared was and these were plentiful if not always sensible.
They did not dally long with their host and their attention was subsequently reclaimed by Mrs Morton and that time which remained until dinner was announced was spent enduring her continued raptures over the Yorkshire country and society and asking after their mutual acquaintance with her own circle of friends from before her marriage.
Tom and Mary had chosen to observe the order of precedence set by their guests respective ranks and circumstance and so Esther, as the lady of greatest elevation, was escorted in by Tom and Mary entered the dining room last on Lord Babington's arm. Following them were George and Charlotte with Lady Denham attached to the squire and succeeded in like order by Sidney and Eliza, Mr and Mrs Morton, Mr Crowe leading in Charity, Georgiana, much to her displeasure, on the arm of the Reverend and with the remaining couples taking up the penultimate positions of the procession.
They were seated around the large table in the formal dining room of Trafalgar House thusly and Charlotte and George found their dinner partners to be excellent conversationalists. Charlotte was seated to the left of Mr Parker with Ester across from her; to George's left was sat Georgiana and across from them, Charity and Mr Crowe. The reverend Hankins, Mr Morton and a local tradesman with his wife, daughter and the young woman's betrothed formed the middle of the table while Mary, who was sat beside Lord Babington and Lady Denham formed the head of the table in company with Sidney, Eliza, the Squire and Mrs Morton.
George considered himself quite pleased with the great separation between himself and the magistrate's wife; he could not have happily tolerated the excess of pleasure she took in waxing lyrical over the hills and dales of Yorkshire and might have rapidly resolved to deny the woman any of his attention at all. No, he was far better pleased with keeping his wife's company throughout the meal of several courses and could not find the will within himself to think ill of Miss Lambe's indecorous observations of the gathered company, so astute and drily delivered were they.
Both Viscount and Viscountess were most contented with their hosts doing away with the custom of preventing married couples being seated together and, though Esther and Charles were to be pitied for being denied that same happiness, took great comfort in their mutual proximity.
The same could not be said for Sidney and Eliza Parker. Though Eliza was content enough to be partnered with her husband and Lord Babington, Sidney's broodish temperament of the morning have proven itself persistent as it stretched into the evening leaving him in little mood to make conversation; and Lord Babington's conversation was as much claimed by her sister in law and her querying after his wellbeing and family and interests as it was by herself. Eliza found herself left to silence and the company of her own thoughts and observations as often as not throughout the meal.
Sidney was, as his wife had long since taken note, disinclined to engage in the gaiety of the conversations that sprung up around him and so quite abandoned Eliza and the lady to his other side to directed the entirety of their attentions to their other partners to have what they may of some communication or other. Indeed, his mind had been less agreeably engaged for no small number of hours in consideration of the words spoken to him by Charlotte two days previously.
He had been examining that interaction and all its nuances and revelations and come to inevitable and unsettling conclusion that, when viewing her words in the same light as that which he had witnessed of her marriage with his own eyes, Charlotte could have little else than entirely honest in her confessions of hopes that had been both broken and healed and feeling that were no longer what they once were. It was disheartening, but the truth could not be denied and truth it certainly was.
To say that much food for thought had arisen from it was a most accurate determination. It seemed, to Sidney, that he had done little else but think since her return. He had thought on his love for her which ran as deep as ever it had. He had thought on how he might win back her heart when it seemed lost to him and considered a great many foolish ideas. And now he thought on her loss and her growth and the wishes she had shared with him: her wishes that he would make his peace with his own choices and find what happiness he could in the life he had.
It was this he considered now. What did he have that brought him happiness even in his self-imposed misery? His son was an obviously apparent answer to that question. Thomas had brought light to his days and the childish wonder the boy embodied could do naught but chase away dark thoughts when he was so determined to smile at every little joyful thing.
But what of Eliza? What had it been, all those years ago when he was first enamoured of her, that had him to her? They were both very different people now than they had once been and it was, perhaps a change that had not been made for the better. They had gained material things to be sure; but both had become jaded and bitter and disillusioned with the world they lived in.
When first they had met, Eliza had been a vibrant flame, teeming with energy and life and dreams for her future and, as moths were want to do, had been attracted to that light but found himself burnt when he came too close. Even now more than ten years after that painful parting he did not know what had caused her to turn her back on him, when she had given every appearance of desiring his suit, to marry another older man with whom she was only barely acquainted and young enough to be his granddaughter besides.
Sidney supposed that was a conversation that would need be had between them. But not that day; it was a discussion for another time, for another place. He was resolved for the moment to think no further on these matters then. His attention had, at last, caught the ire directed at him by his wife and sister and recognised that he must have appeared quite rude and sullen and neglectful throughout the evening as he was locked away within his own mind.
His attention was then bestowed upon his dinner partners as was expected of him, to their relief, and what remained of the evening, both the dinner itself and the subsequent separating and reuniting of the sexes, was spent in conversation and debate that was variably pleasing.
