Clifftops

A Sidlotte Story

By Mazjazz1

Pacing. Sidney had told her that he'd spent over a week pacing in his room at the Crown Hotel waiting for the book to arrive.

He had told her how each time there had been a knock at his door, disappointment had flooded through him as he was handed something made of paper that was so flat, so unenticing, so infuriatingly not a volume of works. In one instance, his thunderous face had the delivery boy scuttling to escape him, and in contrition he sought the boy out with a large a bag of goods from the town bakery. He said that the smile on the boy's face had stayed with him all day and he had thought of that incident often as a reminder that this was the exact cloak of unhappiness he'd wanted to shake off once and for all. For himself. And yes, also for her.

He had told Charlotte that he had seen too much of the darkness in this world during his time in Antigua, but as a boy he had been just as happy-go-lucky as both of his brothers. His mother and he had been especially close, and the sound of her laughter tinkling as she surveyed the result of his antics or particularly enjoyed some practical joke or witticism of his, would stay in his heart forever. But he was happy that of all the Parkers, he was the one to bear the burden of first-hand knowledge of the world's darkness. Neither Tom, nor Arthur would've survived the horror and despair in Antigua and yet, he said, it was a place blessed by some of the most spectacular natural beauty that there could surely be on the whole of God's earth.

Charlotte longed to understand the world that had cast its shadow over Sidney, the world in which Georgiana had been raised.

As she and Sidney, drop by drop, and shared intimacy by shared intimacy, became the closest of confidants over the course of their courtship, Charlotte would ask questions about his time there, cautiously digging deeper each time, knowing that his experiences had shaped so much of the aloof man she had first met on the clifftops with Mary.

He had told her since that, despite much evidence to the contrary, her inquisitive nature was one of the first things that drew him to her. And that it was that very part of her character, the very act of forcing him to talk about the horrors that so troubled him, which had allowed him to lay much of that past to rest. She worried that it was part vanity, but she couldn't help the feeling of warmth his declaration caused inside of her.

Because, in truth, this was the very essence of the bond they had forged. The ability to know each other's minds, to instinctively know how to support and fiercely protect one another, even from themselves.

Sidney and Georgiana's father, Mr George Lambe, had proven that a plantation could be just as successful when worked by free men. There was no justification or need for the suffering that many still inflicted. And there was hope in the fact that, very slowly but definitely, the tide was turning. Sufficiently enough, that Sidney had managed to sell the plantation to a man of similar morals after George had passed on. Sidney had been relieved to be able to fulfil the dying wish of the man who had saved him when he first arrived in Antigua as a broken-hearted wreck.

Whenever she could, Charlotte reminded Sidney of his achievements. That he had affected people's lives for the better and that he should take pride being part of real change. And he would reply that she had no less an impact on the world around her. That she was the catalyst that made people strive to do better, to learn about themselves and others. That the whole of Sanditon had been touched in some way by her arrival.

That she would take such credit as her due was against her nature in every way. But sometimes, just sometimes when she saw the pure admiration in Sidney's eyes, or when she received the grateful and sincere thanks of one of the townsfolk, she could allow herself to believe it.

This July morning, Charlotte lay in the bathtub, soaking in soothing lavender and honey. It was a little after six o'clock and the sun was shining brightly in the sky just as she had hoped. Today was their much longed for wedding day. A few minutes earlier, she had shooed her sisters out of the room, desperate for some moments of peace. The constant fussing and excitement were as endearing, as they were exhausting. Her hair had been washed and needed only for her to keep her head just so, leaning on the edge of the tub to dry, whilst she relaxed and indulged herself a little.

She thought about the book. The book which had eventually arrived in time to allow Sidney to present it to her last Christmas as part of a gift giving ritual, an Antiguan tradition that he and Georgiana had decided to introduce into the Parker family that very year. They had warmly recounted the times when, before enjoying a Christmas day meal, the three of them would say grace and then George Lambe would begin the tradition of gift giving. George was so often taken up with plantation business that Georgiana said she had longed for these moments when her father's focus was solely on her. And whilst Sidney initially found the idea a little odd, he had come to understand the value in showing those you cared about how much you understood them, even if it was wrapped in a seemingly superficial ceremony.

Starting this shared tradition in England had been an important part of Sidney and Georgiana's reconciliation. Now, seven months had passed since Christmas, and their relationship was sufficiently recovered to enjoy some of the closeness of a brother and sister they had once enjoyed during his time in Antigua. Both insisted that Charlotte was the key. That she had not only smoothed the path to their greater understanding of one another with her encouragement and compassion, but also with their shared and acute awareness that she would never accept any other outcome. The latter was always said with a healthy measure of amusement, but with the absolutely clarity that it was simply the truth. However, it had come about, there was no doubt that all three of them were happier for it.

And so, back to the book. A book which marked an important step on the path to her life now. It had been a book of sonnets by Wordsworth, and Sidney had said he had agonised over it. Not because he hadn't believed that it was the right gift, not at all. But because of what it represented. That he was at liberty to give her such a gift because he was a free man. No longer engaged to another and released from the looming chains of poverty; financially secure after the matter of Sanditon's dire financial situation had been solved by other means.

And, crucially, by the twenty-fifth December, enough time had passed that he could formally request of her, and her father, that they began a courtship. It was too soon for the prospect of marriage, the dust needed to settle further from the social rumble that arose out of Eliza breaking her engagement to him for a second time, over three months earlier.

Mary had been able to invite Charlotte to stay at Trafalgar House for the Christmas festivities in the full knowledge of what this invitation represented. She had said it was a new beginning, an end to the soul-destroying guilt that, she had confided to Charlotte, had been tearing her apart.

Sidney had asked her to read the first page of the book in private. She had waited until she retired that Christmas evening, after a day of joy and light, and curled up to open the book in bed. The words, written in beautifully sloped yet purposeful handwriting, were brief, but no less meaningful for it.

Dearest Charlotte,

I love you.

Yours always, Sidney.

She and Sidney had discussed the sonnets on windswept walks along the cliffs with whichever designated chaperone trailing sensitively behind, far enough away so that they could indulge themselves in a feeling of privacy. Their family knew what this time meant to them after the unimaginable heartache and pain; who could begrudge their need for intimacy?

Even Tom, Tom who had been so blind to their love was now a champion of their time together, often appearing to absentmindedly leave them in peace in the study at Trafalgar House, but entirely unable to leave the room without a touch of a theatrical flourish, immediately laying his motives bare.

On their walks, she noticed how Sidney listened to her intently, almost making an art of taking all of her in. It was as purposeful as any physical exertion, as deliberate as any speech. He said that listening to her was like drinking water after wandering alone in the desert. That he didn't know how he would have been able to live his life without hearing her voice, her thoughts, her feelings. That he would've been a ghost.

Charlotte had first heard of the broken engagement courtesy of a letter from Mary, swiftly confirmed by a missive from her dear friend, Lady Susan Worcester, the very next day.

Charlotte hadn't known what to think. Even having been back in Willingden for such a short time, she had thrown herself headlong into the business of the Estate. Anything to keep busy. If she idled too long, her mind or body, or both, would betray her. The spontaneous tears, the fidgeting as if she could no longer bear to be inside her own skin. Night-time was a particular torture, her dreams frantic, always chasing something just out of reach.

She had felt broken yet determined to show as little of her pain to her family as possible. Thus, she avoided them, keeping to her father's study when he was absent if she could, or leaving the farmhouse altogether to go out touring their lands, citing her time in Sanditon as the inspiration for her nervous energy and desire to push ahead with any and every idea she had for the estate. As Sidney had once expressed about himself, she believed she was now destined to be alone, and she must forge her path to independence in any way she could.

Charlotte did not dwell on that time. It had shaped her in ways that she couldn't yet fully fathom, but it was the past. She and Sidney both keenly felt the importance of the present moment, holding fast to what was close to you. And she had moved forward from those difficult days. But she could recognise this consequence; she now knew she did have the ability to exercise patience if she really tried. Hard.

She had waited for word from Sidney, whilst at the same time vehemently admonishing herself for doing so. She had, at times, been plagued by doubts. Perhaps he hadn't felt as she did after all? Perhaps time had diminished his ardour? Perhaps for him their connection hadn't been the meeting and meshing of souls she so strongly felt in the very core of her being?

The agony.

But she knew, deep down she knew she wasn't wrong.

And then finally, a reward for her gruelling lesson in forbearance. A note from Sidney had arrived after two months, encased in a letter from Mary.

Charlotte,

I hope this note finds you in good health.

For sake of propriety, I have held back from writing to you, but I can no longer bear it. Forgive me for my weakness.

I know you are aware of my current circumstances.

Please know that you are always in my thoughts, and I only wish for your happiness above anything else in this world.

Mary will invite you back to Sanditon soon. My dearest hope is that you feel able to accept her invitation, and that you will come if you wish it. I know I speak for all of The Parkers when I say we long to have the pleasure of your company once more.

I understand if you feel you cannot. But please know, if I can be of service to you at any time, now or in the future, and of course within in the limits of propriety, you need only ask.

I fear I cannot adequately convey my respect and admiration for you in these few short words.

With warmest regards and in hope, Sidney.

How her heart had soared. How her emotions had threatened treacherously to overtake her. Happiness, joy, lingering doubts, and fear that something could yet prevent their reunion. It was all too much, until she had returned in December and then, to her surprise, it wasn't. It was simple. That is not to say that the same emotions were not present and correct, not at all. Only that they were eclipsed by her focus and determination to strive for the future she wanted with Sidney.

A future which involved the development of Sanditon, where Sidney had taken on a more active role in its leadership. In truth, he was now the gatekeeper, with Tom neatly boxed into a corner where he could do little damage. It was ideas and marketing only for Tom, none of which he could turn into a reality without Sidney's express permission.

The big surprise was Arthur, who had started to work alongside Sidney, demonstrating both an uncanny ability to diffuse any potential discord between the two elder brothers, and a generous amount of common sense, the exact quality Tom so lacked.

Charlotte had been surprised by her feelings for Tom when she had returned. His recklessness had caused such damage to The Parkers as a family and had so nearly brought the town to its knees. Not to mention her own heartbreak. Yes, she could not deny that initially, deep down, she felt something akin to resentment. But she knew she had a forgiving heart and with time she let go of that little piece of darkness inside of her.

After Sidney had written to her father to request a formal courtship, she had extended her stay in Sanditon and gradually began to become involved in its business once again. After the success of the regatta the prior summer, she found could recognise her talent for organising events without feeling too self-aggrandising. Well, most of the time.

She had presented Sidney, Arthur and Tom with the idea of a full summer programme; one they could adapt and change as finances allowed. Some of her plans were simple, based on traditional games or small events that they held in Willingden. Some were far grander, such as a Sanditon Theatre, that brilliant idea coming into being after a conversation over tea with the delightful Arthur Parker.

They had both grown from the challenges they had faced last summer and from their painful separation.

Sidney had said that he'd learned he was not alone. That it was perfectly just to lean on others when you were in need. Since George Lambe had passed away and he was thrust back into the role of sensible brother, he had felt the weight of it dreadfully. Surrounded by dreamers, by those who could manipulate his dedication to his family. But he was not alone, there were others who had been ready to support him in anything and he had failed to understand the lengths to which they would go to bear him up, to fight for his happiness. He had not realised he was deserving of such devotion.

And for herself, though she was aware she had much to learn, she knew it was possible to be loved for exactly who she was. To be encouraged and accepted in her quest for agency. She knew she need not be so fiercely guarded of her independence, or perhaps it was rather that she had an ally in Sidney, who guarded it just as vehemently alongside her.

That is not to say there was never any need for heated discussions; more, that she wasn't threatened by them. They performed a dance there also. A series of choreographed movements on both sides that lead to eventual compromise.

She remembers, during the first few weeks of their official courtship, musing on the earliest months of their acquaintance and marvelling at how things had changed so quickly between them.

On one of their walks, down by the river, since the wind was determined to blow wildly on the clifftops that day, Alicia and Jenny running ahead of them, excited by their role as chaperones, she had said, "Sidney, I wish to say something, but I don't want to upset you."

He had replied "Well, I hope you will always feel able to share anything you wish to speak of Charlotte. I'm ashamed that I ever made you feel otherwise. I'm ashamed that I ever spoke to you in a way that might have made you feel anything less than full respected and appreciated. It is a regret I must learn to live with." He paused, and with his left hand covered the hand that was threaded through his right arm, as if to protect her in any way he could.

"And you, you helped me see what I brute I could be at times. I never wish to return to being that man."

"Please do not forget what I said, Sidney. I still mean every word. You're the same man you always were. I will always believe you credit me with too much; any improvement has been of your own making."

It was true. Yes, he had listened to her, taken her words to heart, but he had opened himself of his own volition. She knew what that had that had cost him. The years he had spent guarding his heart. He had told her that, almost from the beginning, meeting her had created sensations akin to panic, that he had lost control of his iron will, and been left flailing. He had fought against it with every fibre of his being, not knowing if he could bear to leave himself so vulnerable once again.

She felt him take a deep breath inwards as if struggling for air. As if her understanding and forgiveness was too much for him to bear.

"And I hope you can see that I'm changed too Sidney. I know I was too quick in my assumptions. Too sure in my assessment of you and others."

"And I was guilty of the same towards you. And at times, I very much deserved your approbation, Charlotte. No matter how much I'm enjoying hearing your good opinion of me, I will not deny my part in some of our… shall we say… less than civil exchanges."

They both chuckled; the tension of re-visiting the past, broken. For a moment she gloried in how often and how thoroughly they made each other laugh. How joyful it felt for to be so in tune.

"But Sidney…." she paused. What was it that she wished to say exactly?

"Do go on, my love. We are officially courting, and you know my sincere intentions beyond that. And I am led to understand that our wishes align?" A moment of insecurity in his eyes, as though he was embarrassed to have been so forward in his assertions. It was not the first time they had spoken of their planned future, but she knew he needed occasional reassurance, that he could not yet bring himself to fully believe that it was within their grasp. She suspected that it came back to the same thing; that he struggled to accept her forgiveness for something he had yet to forgive himself for. For almost breaking her heart.

She nodded. "Of course, Sidney. You know that is the case. If it were not for proprietary's sake…" she trailed off.

"Yes, if it were not for proprietary's sake, my dearest hope is that we would have been married already." He stopped walking, turned to face her, and looked at her intently.

"Dearest Charlotte. You can tell me anything."

It was her turn to take deep, steadying breath. "Well, my thoughts are that I think I quite like sparring with you." She had smiled cautiously, feeling a little embarrassed. Would he understand her meaning?

He had smiled, a slow smile that grew as he took her in.

"And that is no doubt because you know that I am in entirely in your power and when it really matters you are sure to always win!" They could not help but laugh, both acknowledging the likely truth in this.

She looked into the distance where Alicia and Jenny were now excitedly picking snowdrops, though it was unclear how many might survive under their enthusiastic plucking. For a brief moment, a memory surfaced of Reverend Hankins and his unusual sermons.

"No, it's not that, though I agree with you wholeheartedly." Her smile brightened, then faded, for what she had to say wasn't in jest. She keenly felt the sentiment she wanted to convey, deep in her soul.

"It is just...during our heated exchanges we have been honest, haven't we? Letting out our frustrations, each challenging the other to think differently, think more honestly, think...I don't know...it's just one way we weave our way to our true selves. Perhaps it isn't the most conventional way of being close with someone, of truly knowing them, but I don't regret any one of our battles now because I know you better for it. And…," she turned looked up into his dear eyes, "...knowing you is the greatest joy of my life."

Sidney looked as though he was facing an onslaught of emotion and took a moment to look away and compose himself, but after a moment she gently cupped his face and brought his eyes back to hers. "I love you Sidney Parker, so very dearly."

There was one red line and it pertained to her personal safety. They both tried not to dwell on the painful parts of their shared history, but on occasion they both still endured flashbacks to the incident in the alleyway close to Honey Lane.

Charlotte would shake her head when she thought of the bravado with which she spoke to Sidney after he had saved her. Had she really been so naive? How could she think she had any modicum of control over a knife-wielding assailant? No, she was compelled to recognise that things could've ended very differently if Sidney had arrived even seconds later. She was ashamed, although Sidney would try to distract her with gentle words of admiration for her overwhelming desire to rescue her friend.

As for the red line, Sidney said it was simple; he could not bear the thought of any harm coming to any part of her being.

So, in this matter she indulged his protectiveness, even revelled in the feeling, though it may be the case that she would never admit this to a person alive on this earth.

She had returned to Willingden two days prior to their wedding, and it had been a whirlwind ever since. It was true she had felt guilty not to return sooner to help her mama with the last of the preparations, but somewhat selfishly she has insisted on attending the midsummer ball; an event she had put so much of her efforts into. She must own that leaving Sidney for any length of time did not appeal either. It surprised her sometimes how much she depended on his presence. How much a look or a word from him meant to her, how it grounded her. She had not realised that with such intense feelings of love, came something else; a feeling of loss when they were not near.

Alison had been all too happy to be by their mother's side seeing to every last detail and had shyly posited that it was all good practice for when her time came. No one needed to add that they expected that time to be soon, with her calm presence, practical mind, and homely beauty, she had a number of suitors who were expected to declare their hand imminently.

She and Sidney would be married this morning in the Willindgen parish church by Vicar Lindsay, who had known Charlotte her whole life. Charlotte smiled wryly, as she recalled Sidney's last visit to Willingden when they had met the vicar for a talk. A talk Mr Lindsay had insisted upon once they had asked for banns to be read. He explained that felt it was his duty to ensure that the couple understood the seriousness of God's expectations for their married life together.

It was a testament to the development of Sidney's patience over the period of knowing one another, that they had emerged unscathed, with the Vicar still willing to perform the ceremony.

However, it must be noted that Mr Linsday speaking solemnly of a wife's duty to obey her husband in all matters, had the effect of shocking Charlotte into complete silence, a silence which was entirely seconded by a complete blankness of thought. A rare occurrence indeed. But it had been unimaginable from to think back on Mr Lindsay knowing her as a slight, but determined child, to a strong-minded girl, to addressing her now as a soon-to-be married woman, and so urging her to give up every ounce of her own will.

Charlotte did not speak again until she and Sidney were walking back to the Heywood Estate, with Alison doing a poor job of chaperoning by remaining at least a hundred paces behind. It was the shaking of Sidney's shoulders and his eventual outburst of laughter than had brought her round from her stupor.

"I'm not sure what is quite so amusing, Sidney Parker!" she had said indignantly, the flush on her cheeks rising most unbecomingly, she imagined.

To his credit, he had looked suitably chastened and did his best to draw his laughter to a close, with somewhat mixed results which, as a result, had little effect on Charlotte's mood.

She had huffed in frustration and stomped off ahead until he caught up with her to apologise, halting her progress by stepping in front her and gently taking her hands into his own. She looked up at his sparkling chocolate eyes and lopsided smile and to her later annoyance, immediately felt her ire begin to subside.

"Forgive me, Charlotte. I must own that whilst I was indeed wary, I was entirely unprepared for the vehemence of Mr Linday's notions. I'm so sorry if he shocked you. You know that is not kind of marriage we foresee for ourselves. Good grief, the very idea!"

And that was the rub. Charlotte was indeed shocked, but not because she had believed Sidney's expectations to be at all in accordance with Vicar Lindsay's. Not at all. It was only that the vicar had implied that her full and total submission to her husband would include the marriage bed, as if she was a purely a vessel and not a fully-fledged human being of her own.

It didn't help that, naturally, she and Sidney had yet to discuss such concerns and she hadn't wanted there to be a third party involved when they had. She was so confused! How did such relations between a man and a woman proceed? Was she to merely absent her own feelings from that side of their marriage? Was she not supposed to enjoy their most intimate physical touches? She had an entirely different idea from the pieces of information she had gleaned over the years from conversations she hadn't been meant to hear.

She had assured Sidney of her foolishness and as swiftly as possible changed the subject, but she resolved in that moment to be braver, to use the time until her wedding to become less naïve in these matters.

Back in Sanditon, she had approached Esther, who was staying with her aunt for the foreseeable future. She was with child and Lord Babington would need to travel on and off until the baby's arrival. Lady Denham had insisted on being in Esther's presence, not trusting anyone else to oversee her care.

Esther had typically arched her eyebrows and coolly smirked.

"Charlotte, I am your friend first, but a responsible married woman also. It would be a dereliction of my duty to talk to you of these matters too far in advance of your wedding."

Charlotte's face had fallen.

"No, no. Please don't look like that. I promise I will fulfil my obligations to you, but it shall be at a time of my choosing and much closer to your wedding day. You must trust me, Charlotte."

Esther had been so sincere that Charlotte had been left with no choice.

She knew her mama would also speak to her before the wedding day, but she wasn't entirely sure how open she would be. Whilst, they were close, she didn't doubt that her warm, but reserved mother would yet find it troublesome to talk easily about such matters. As a consequence, Charlotte felt she must spare her from the awkwardness of the questions she so desperately wanted to know the answers to.

In the end it hadn't mattered. Despite her intentions to leave the midsummer ball with Mary and Georgiana, instead, Esther and Lady Susan had found a way to whisk Charlotte away back to Lady Susan's apartment. It had been late, but not so late to warrant Mary's objection. Sidney had seemed perplexed by the plan but had smiled wryly and said he knew better than to interfere with the plans of such a determined group of ladies.

Lady Susan Worcester was a distant relative of Lord Babington and in the absence of Esther having any fashionable relations of her own, had stepped in and taken Esther under her wing during her courtship with Lord Babington, even assisting her with her trousseau.

Since their meeting at Mr Maudesley's rout, Lady Susan had shown an entirely unexpected degree of interest in Charlotte. She had said she found both her and Esther a refreshing diversion from the tedium of the simpering and vapid young ladies she was so often introduced to by society mamas trying to gain her grace and favour. She insisted on attending any events in Sanditon that Charlotte organised, bringing her social circle scampering after her.

Charlotte observed that Susan had made her own way in the world, and she could not help but ardently admire it. She had married young, had been widowed young, her children were settled abroad, and she now had freedom to live her life for herself and the social standing to be decidedly above any kind of scandal. And she used her liberty for the good but ever discreetly.

Only a handful of people knew that Susan was instrumental in saving the financial situation of The Parkers and, Charlotte suspected, had a hand in Eliza's decision to end her engagement, though she would only smile enigmatically and say "I am never wrong about matters of the heart" whenever Charlotte tried to enquire directly into the matter.

Back at Susan's sea-view apartment, Esther had stayed for some refreshment but then, to Charlotte's surprise, had swiftly made to depart.

"I promised I would fulfil my duty to you Charlotte, and from experience I know it is Susan, not I, who is the right person to guide you. I will only say that Lord Babington and I are very happy and that is in no small part down to Susan. And I suspect from the way that Sidney Parker looks at you, that you will soon feel just the same as I do."

With a slight smirk and a wave of her hand, she left the apartment to be escorted to her waiting carriage.

Charlotte felt a rush of nerves as Esther departed, followed instantly by a flash of irritation at herself for those very nerves. She didn't want to be seen as an ignorant girl, so why was she behaving in such a gauche manner?

"Now, now Charlotte. I can see your discomfort, my dear but there really is no reason for worry. We shall discuss only what you wish to discuss." Susan smiled softly and reached over to pat Charlotte's hand reassuringly, which had the desired effect. Charlotte felt her determination return.

What followed had been in turns revelatory, unsurprising, shocking and amusing, as Susan answered all of Charlotte's questions with kindness, candour and, occasionally, some much needed humour.

Some of the most valuable discussion was in putting order to Charlotte's most intimate thoughts and feelings concerning her husband-to-be. It had been troubling her how, week by week, and then day by day, she felt as though she was in a growing state of agitation around Sidney. She had wondered how natural it was to constantly dream about the day Sidney would be able to touch her, and in turn, she, him.

At one point, Susan had said "I have no wish to embarrass you any more than is necessary Charlotte, but I must say Esther was correct in her assessment of Sidney Parker's feelings towards you. If I can flatter myself a little, I can always tell when a man is truly in love, and I have never seen a man more in love than he with you. Although please do not mention this to Esther, or even Lord Babington directly, as he would take it as the most dreadful affront!" This statement being closely followed by Susan's melodic tinkling laughter.

Charlotte had realised in hindsight of course that she had always been drawn to Sidney, no matter how much their early clashes would suggest otherwise.

She now recognised her deep feelings of discomfort over their shattering argument in the streets of Sanditon, after Sidney's unexpected return from London found her mimicking him most wretchedly; then her rebellious response in encouraging Georgiana's deception, were both signs of an attachment already made.

After they had rescued Georgiana, she had put her distress down to the self-inflicted injury to her innate sense of right and wrong, knowing that she had acted grievously against him. She had felt physically unbalanced until she met Susan, who calmly and easily revealed her true feelings.

She also cannot say exactly when she was sure of the change in his regard for her. Their dance at the rout had awakened feelings inside of her that she hadn't known existed. Just as her entire being was beguiled by him, she felt him draw into her. His declaration after the regatta at Trafalgar House had made her heart soar and yet left her doubtful, did she understand him truly? Her confidence in own ability to read another person, to understand their true motives had been dealt a severe blow by the horror of Georgiana's kidnapping.

Perhaps she hadn't been sure at all until he had declared himself, sweetly yet nervously, on that sunny, yet windswept and bracing, clifftop walk, before he had kissed her for the first time; though hope had embedded itself treacherously in her heart for a short, but agonising time before then.

Lady Susan had helped her understand that her feelings towards Sidney were natural. It was in fact preferable to have such a desperate need to be close to Sidney. That, as his wife, he would more than welcome these feelings.

After she had been safely escorted back to Trafalgar House, she had felt in a state of agitation through the night until the next morning.

She and Sidney had gone for a walk along the beach, unchaperoned, but really with their wedding imminent who could truly object as long as they adhered to the expected decorum? To be doubly sure, they walked side by side without Charotte putting her arm through his as she normally would.

She knew she must appear unusually quiet, but he knew her well enough now to know she would speak her mind when the moment was right for her.

It was early yet, and many were still abed recovering from the night before, which for some would've lasted into dawn. They walked on towards his cove.

"Charlotte, I can almost hear your mind working, whatever it is you wish to say, my love, I would be honoured if you would share it with me."

They had reached the cove and she took a few steps away from him to gaze at the sea. Her curls blowing in the breeze around her bonnet and not a moment later, as was her wont, she moved to remove it. Freedom.

She had placed it on the sand and turned to him then, saying carefully, "Sidney, there is something I wish to discuss with you but I…" she paused and took a few steps closer, "I don't know if I have the words." She looked down then and he took a breath. There was a flash, a moment of alarm that leapt to the surface as she looked up in to his eyes once more. One step forward, and she was in his arms.

"No, please do not worry." She looked at him intensely, then she had kissed him. Most ardently. He seemed powerless to resist. Hadn't he already told her he was in her power the night he had proposed? At times like this, she could truly understand his meaning. And so, they danced. His lips and hers, telling the story of their love.

After some time, as Sidney gently broke away, he said, "is that what you wished to discuss?" He held her close.

"Yes." She knew he could feel her smile against his chest.

"In that case Mrs Parker-to-be, feel free to initiate an untold number of such discussions from the moment we are wed."

She shook with laughter.

He held her away from him slightly so he could see her face. "I very much look forward to it."

Her laughter stilled and she moved her hand to cup his cheek. As if he almost couldn't stand up to the look of tenderness she gave him, his eye betrayed a moment of insecurity. She knew instinctively that he had let his doubt creep in for a moment, the nagging suspicion he had that he did not deserve her after all the heartache.

"No, Mr Parker." She whispered.

"No?"

"No. I can see exactly what you're thinking. I love you. You make me happy, so happy, Sidney."

A slight blush graced his cheeks. She had reached up and kissed him gently, briefly, realising herself that anything more was dangerous in that moment.

"And", she continued, "I can't wait for it just to be the two of us."

She stretched out in her bath now and chuckled. Esther had indeed been right to delay such conversations until closer to the wedding, they only led the mind – and body - in one direction.

Sidney, of course, had been most welcoming of her topic of "discussion". She had in fact intended to talk to him, though she knew not how. But she had ever been a person of action, so perhaps it was inevitable that her plans had turned out somewhat more physical, and less cerebral, in that moment. In her defence, she had yet been thinking. She had been thinking vividly about what it would be like touch his bare skin and for him to touch hers.

And today, this very day, she would at last find out. She sighed contentedly and smiled. It was most fortunate that they both wished for children. The idea of growing a brood together was a source of many a joyful conversation.

Family. It meant the world to them both, but she was confident that they would always put each other first. Hadn't they made this very promise a thousand times on their walks along the cliffs? Hadn't they made peace with the past they shared in this very place?

Sometimes she felt as if the clifftops were part of them, and they a part of the ancient stone, rooted in the land, the strength they gave each other. The hard-earned climb to the top. The freshness of the breeze that spoke to their spirits, and the surrounding green and blue hues symbolising their natural connection and vivacity. They were all entwined within him and her, bound together for the rest of their lives.

The unmistakeable sounds of her sisters' impatience began to seep through the thick oak door. The indulgence of her time alone was over, but she couldn't mind one bit. Sidney would soon be waiting for her.

Notes:

Thanks to #FriendsofFanFic for creating this Anthology, what a lovely idea!

This Sidlotte story is based on an ongoing story I have on Ao3 titled "A New Ritual". I decided to create a slightly different version for the Anthology and this version follows canon right up to the end of Season 1. The way I've taken the theme is to hopefully provide a glimpse into the qualities that I love that I believe exist within Charlotte Heywood; how these qualities play out in how she tackles life; and how they bring out the best in, and work harmoniously with, Sidney Parker. Only happy endings here!

Thanks for reading x