Charlotte pulled Alexander's coat around her more tightly as she watched his carriage drive off toward Heyrick Park.
Alexander's coat. Just to be able to say that in her head was such a surprise, as she held the collar up around her face and drank in the now-familiar scent of his soap. Sandalwood? Sage? Something fresh and green and reminiscent of the fields they had walked through on their first search for Leonora. She would have to ask him about his soap – and even that made her smile. The fact that she now had that option, the ability to ask him questions, to talk things over with him, to find out his opinion, was such an improvement over their complete separation and silence.
And the girls! She could know what they were doing and learning, how Augusta had fared in London society, what new discoveries Leonora had made, how Mrs. Wheatley was progressing with her knitting. The anticipation Charlotte was feeling at the prospect of all of this connection nearly drove her to tears again. She was finally allowing herself the freedom to feel how much she had missed them all, and the depth of her happiness reminded her why she had needed so desperately to convince herself it didn't matter. It mattered more than anything could.
Shadows let us see the light, Charlotte thought. One cannot exist without the other. The last four months had been lived in the shadows, not only for her, but for Alexander as well, it appeared. And without those months lived in the absence of light, would everything seem so bright now? She would never choose to relive those long hours of sadness and regret, but as she made her way into town, she could appreciate the changes it seemed to have wrought in both of them. They were the same people, but altered in the fact that she thought they would never take each other for granted again. They would treat this very strong love as if it were also fragile, for it was, and worthy of being surrounded by cotton batting and great care.
Passing by some Sanditon residents she did not know, Charlotte dipped her head slightly, realizing how strange she must look. Wearing a man's coat three sizes too large for her, hair unkempt from the winds, her face likely streaked and blotched from so many tears, all offset by a beatific smile as she remembered his touch, his kiss, his declarations.
I ask only that you give me a chance to make amends, because I will happily spend the rest of my life in the attempt.
He had said it. The rest of his life. Nothing could make her happier than to spend that amount of time in his company, but Charlotte stopped short of considering it a prelude to a marriage proposal. That argument could certainly be made, but she hoped she had made herself clear to Alexander. This would not be a case of him asking and her accepting. They would ask each other and each would consider the answer.
Spinsterhood had never frightened Charlotte, and up until just a few hours ago, it had held a kind of peace for her. What she realized now was that whatever she did, however she lived her life, it must be on her own terms. Even if that meant marriage, it would still be on her own terms.
She and Alexander did indeed have much to discuss. Her first requirement was to determine that this change in him was a solid one, something intrinsic and lasting. Charlotte was rightly somewhat suspicious of sweeping changes in the men she had known. Sidney had given her whiplash with his constant turns, and she would never forget her carriage ride home after he had chased her down on the cliffs. She had vowed then that she would never again let a man determine her fate, because they were quixotic and changeable and had the power to wound her deeply. She had circled back on that resolve with Alexander and where had it left her? In much the same place.
A part of her wished that she were not so maddeningly physically drawn to Alexander, because if there were any way they could go back to her teaching the girls and spending time with all of them at Heyrick Park, she would do it. It would give her the opportunity to not only learn her own mind on the subject of marriage and the possibility of becoming mistress of the house, but she could also find her way to trusting Alexander fully again and determining that these changes in him were deep and lasting. But her rational mind knew that they could never avoid finding corners in that great old house where again, his lips would be on hers and their longing for each other would get the better of them. And Charlotte knew that she would be fully as guilty of crossing that line as he would.
This primal need she felt for him was beyond anything she had been prepared for. Charlotte had had her nose in a book for as long as she could remember, and the central theme of love in almost all of them, apart from textbooks – and even those often concerned biology and the human sciences – had never resolved for her the twin concepts of longing and desire. She realized now that it was simply something that had to be experienced – the tingling extremities, the ringing in the ears, the physical hunger of it, having to touch the lips of the object of your desire or feel you might die in the attempt. It had all seemed so melodramatic and overwrought, but finally she understood.
She was not too naive to admit to herself that marriage was not only a contract and a commitment, but it was also permission. It not only allowed intimacy, it required it of people in love who desired children – and for all her talk of spinsterhood, Charlotte would dearly love a houseful of children. She was also aware that although Alexander was raising two girls, neither of them were his biological children. The thought of him holding a child that they had created together filled her heart almost to bursting.
One foot in front of the other, Charlotte. Her first task was to speak to Ralph. She was trying to determine if the last few hours made it easier or more difficult to now consider the prospect of breaking with Ralph Starling. Her resolve was no less nor greater than it had been. The difference was that now, instead of her future holding only independence and a firm decision to live her life alone, she had the chance of a world of new possibilities.
She looked out at the setting sun and could see that she was late. And when she peered down the road, her heart sank at the sight of her father's carriage sitting in front of Georgiana's apartments. So he was there already and waiting for her, and she would enter the rooms looking like an unmade bed and wearing a man's coat. Gratefully, Charlotte remembered the service entry to the apartments and made her way quietly around the back.
Feeling for all the world as if she were performing in a Moliere farce, she climbed the back stairs, went through the kitchen and slid along the hallway, thankfully without detection. They were all in the living room and before silently opening the door to her bedroom, she heard her name and listened.
"I'm certain Charlotte will be along presently," Georgiana said. "She was going for a walk on the cliffs, and we all know how one can lose track of time while taking in the pleasing prospect of the ocean."
Ralph Starling didn't know at all, as he had never walked on the cliffs. "To my view, why a young woman would want to venture into the elements alone is beyond my understanding. We saw those cliffs on our journey in, and the howling gale outside caused Declan to close the windows on the carriage." Ralph raised his teacup in salute to Fraser and added, "He even felt it wise to pull the curtains for our safety."
Declan Fraser nodded and took another long sip of his tea. He looked over at his wife and smiled, because both of them knew that he had closed the window and the curtains for a very different reason. Their aspect from the seats facing the ocean had allowed them to see something that Ralph had not.
In the distance, a very familiar green carriage. And just a bit beyond, two solitary figures in an embrace, buffeted by the wind but holding tightly to each other as if for dear life.
Alexander was quite the sight. In full formal dress and bent over a ragged, paper-thin snakeskin while peering through a magnifying glass.
"Natrix helvetica," he said softly, as Leonora leaned over his desk to look at her treasure with her head nearly touching his. "The common grass snake." He took her finger and gently placed it on the head area of the sloughed skin. "You feel those large scales there? They have a ridge that is rough to the touch. Probably a female. They shed only once a year, just before laying eggs, which means this is a very rare find, Leonora. Well done!"
His daughter took a quick breath and beamed at Alexander. "Thank you, Father! I carried it very carefully so as not to break it."
Alexander put down the magnifying glass and ruffled her hair with a smile. "You did very well." He stood and went to his bookshelf and pulled down an old cigar box that held used quills and ink pots. After taking them out and settling them back on the shelf, he brought the box over to Leonora. "Now, place the skin in the box and it will keep longer." He watched as she lifted the nearly transparent tube gently to put it in the box, and his heart pulled in his chest. He couldn't believe he had nearly missed all this. As it was, she was growing up so fast.
"I think Miss Heywood would like this one," she said softly as she peered into the box.
"I'm certain she would," Alexander said. He sat back down and looked across his desk at his daughter. "You miss her very much, don't you?"
Leonora nodded. "Yes. And I don't understand why she left us." Her bright eyes fixed on his and narrowed slightly. "Do you understand, Father? Why she left us?"
Alexander had avoided all of these questions for months. He thought that Leonora would soon forget Charlotte, but it was becoming increasingly clear that she never would. Now, with Charlotte's kiss still fresh in his mind, he felt he might be able to answer without giving false hope.
"She didn't leave you, my darling girl, I sent her away. It was a very bad mistake and I would do anything to make it better." He reached out and took Leonora's hand and brought her around his desk. Things he had never done in the past, touching her, drawing her up into his lap as he did now, came so easily to Alexander that he wondered why it had been so very difficult before.
"Can you make it better?" she asked, laying her head lightly on his shoulder.
"I will do everything in my power, and I have a surprise for you. Miss Heywood is back in Sanditon, and I know she would love to see you. Shall we ask her to tea tomorrow or the next day?"
Leonora nearly jumped out of his lap. "She's here? In Sanditon? Yes, Father, yes, please! Can she come tomorrow? I want to show her my snake-skin. Natrix hel… helv…."
"Helvetica. Natrix Helvetica," Alexander said, laughing softly. "We will ask her. Miss Heywood is loved by a great many people and she may be busy tomorrow or the next day, but I know she would like to see you, so we will be patient and hope for the best."
Leonora wrapped her arms around Alexander's neck and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Father! She will be so pleased about the snails, too."
Alexander kissed her on the cheek, again in wonder at how impossibly soft her skin was. "You are a true malacologist, Leo. She will see that in an instant."
"Uncle?" Augusta's voice came from the hallway before she reached the door to his office, which was now nearly always open. "We will be late, and I don't wish to be rude to Miss Lambe."
Leonora jumped down from Alexander's lap and ran to Augusta. "You'll never guess who's returned to Sanditon!" Augusta held out an arm quickly to prevent Leonora from hugging her around her freshly pressed gown. Leonora's hugs were frequent and legendary in their strength, and although Augusta loved her enthusiasm dearly, she also never had any idea what small and slimy creatures might be held in her cousin's hands.
"Careful, please, Leonora! I am dressed for the party!" Alexander gazed again in awe at Augusta, who was resplendent in a steel-blue gown with a lovely white feather in her hair. He couldn't get over how she had transformed in London. He suddenly wondered how long it would be before there was a nervous young man on his doorstep asking for her hand. That thought caused him to shake his head slightly and push it from his mind. Too soon. It was all happening far too fast.
"Guess, Augusta! Guess who has come back!" Leonora would not be silenced, although she did take a step back in deference to Augusta's silk gown.
Laughing, Augusta said, "Oh, I don't know, that terrible man, the artist who tried to steal Miss Lambe's money? Lockhart was his name?"
"MISS HEYWOOD!" Leonora finally screamed, in a voice that might have actually been heard in the town of Sanditon. Her excitement would not be contained and she ran past Augusta. "I must tell Mrs. Wheatley!" and with that, she was already halfway down the hall.
Augusta's eyes went wide, and she looked at Alexander. "Is it true, uncle? Has she come back?"
Alexander smiled and nodded.
"That is wonderful news!" Augusta said. She tilted her head and looked carefully at her uncle. "Is she here… alone? Did you ask her here?"
In the last four months much had changed in the way Alexander and Augusta related to each other. Early on in their time in London, during a particularly long carriage ride to a country party, she had made her feelings known about how difficult it was to live in a house with secrets. She had asked him to trust her to handle information well and she had promised that she would hold his confidence, but she could not bear being told she wasn't old enough to understand. She had reminded him that he was preparing her for marriage, and if she was mature enough for that, she was certainly mature enough to know what was going on in her own home.
Alexander had been so impressed with her eloquence and her clear statement of her position – thank you again, Miss Heywood – that he had agreed. And he had never been sorry, because she had done exactly as she promised. So Augusta knew of Charlotte's fiance, and she knew also from Mrs. Wheatley that there was some question about whether it was duty or love that had compelled her engagement to Ralph Starling.
More importantly, Augusta was convinced that not only did her uncle love Miss Heywood deeply, but that his love was returned in kind. Until it was proven otherwise, that would be her belief.
There was a curious look on her uncle's face, and Augusta moved closer. He hadn't yet answered her questions, and if she wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "You saw her," she said, raising an eyebrow. Alexander suddenly found something of particular interest on his desk, and he remained silent. "Where? In town?"
Alexander looked up and he couldn't contain himself any longer. "On the cliffs, driving in."
"Was she… with him?" Augusta asked, screwing her face into a look she might wear if she had smelled something unpleasant.
"No," he said simply. "She was alone."
Augusta had a talent for asking the most important questions, so Alexander simply waited.
"Does she forgive you?"
He narrowed his eyes, thinking. "I believe we are on the road to forgiveness."
"And what of him? Mr. Starling? Is she still committed to marrying him?"
Alexander paused, wondering just how far his trust could extend. He and Augusta had grown very close and although he sometimes was at a loss at how to counsel her, she had been forthright in her hopes and fears, her worries about joining society, her nervousness about the possibility of marriage and a great number of other things. He had often wished that Charlotte was by his side during these discussions, but he felt he managed to comport himself reasonably well and offered helpful advice where he could.
He looked up at her. "I want to be honest with you, but I do not want to betray Charlotte's confidence." Augusta nodded, but the use of Charlotte in place of the usual Miss Heywood was not lost on her. "Let us speak of this tomorrow, and my answer may be different."
Smiling, Augusta sat down in the chair opposite him, careful not to wrinkle her gown. It was all perfectly clear to her. Her uncle and Miss Heywood had met on the cliffs, alone, and he had apologized – and done it well, obviously, if she was considering forgiving him. The smile that he was currently having a great deal of difficulty keeping from his countenance suggested that they might have done more than just talk. And it felt as if Miss Heywood might be planning on breaking off her engagement, either as a result of their meeting, or due to some previous decision.
Whatever was going on, Augusta could not wait to see how Miss Heywood and her uncle related to each other at the party. And she wondered if Ralph Starling would be attending.
"We should go, uncle," she said, finding it nearly as difficult to remove the grin from her own face as Alexander was with his.
Charlotte took one last look at herself in the mirror. She adjusted a curl over the modest tiara that Georgiana had lent her for the evening and checked that her pearl drop earrings and necklace were in order.
She smiled and shook her head at the events that had already transpired on this most surprising of days. After sneaking into her room, she had arranged herself properly and then snuck back downstairs to arrive at the front door looking much more collected, of course remembering to put Ralph's engagement ring on her third finger, left hand. For some reason, Alison was looking at her like the cat that had swallowed the canary, and Charlotte wanted to get back to her room to see if she had neglected to replace some essential article of clothing or something equally horrifying. She apologized for her lateness, excused herself from the group, and came back to her room to dress quickly for the party.
After another long moment holding Alexander's coat to her face, lest it lose some of its aroma before she got to it again, she had folded it carefully and placed it in the trunk at the foot of her bed. A short time later, there was a knock, and her door opened to reveal Alison with wide eyes and full of excitement, saying, "You must tell me everything, sister!"
After solving the mystery of how Alison was even aware of her meeting with Alexander on the cliffs, Charlotte gave her sister an abbreviated version of events, omitting the kiss. She and Declan had already seen the embrace, and that felt like quite enough transparency for one day.
"What did Declan say?" Charlotte asked, wondering if she had scandalized her brother-in-law beyond repair.
"Charlotte, you must remember that Declan saw you and Mr. Colbourne at the Army camp that day. He saw him take your hand and he said that was no ordinary look that an employer gives to one of his staff. He knew Mr. Colbourne loved you from that day forward. And he can see beyond doubt that you do not love Ralph. My Declan may be quiet, but his still waters run deep, sister, believe me!" On this last admission, Alison had the good graces to blush a little.
Charlotte gave her sister a genuine smile. "You found yourself a very good man. I'm so happy for you."
"So what will you do?" Alison asked breathlessly.
"I am going to break my engagement with Ralph before we arrive at the party," Charlotte said, her voice catching. "I feel as if I'm going to the gallows, Alison. I have no idea how I will do it."
Alison stepped behind Charlotte and gave her a hug, resting her chin on her sister's shoulder as they gazed at each other in the mirror. "You will know what to say. You always do."
Charlotte laughed ruefully. "That's exactly what Alexander said."
"Might we walk to the party, rather than taking the carriage?" Charlotte asked Ralph as they stepped outside.
He adjusted her cloak around her shoulders. "Will you be warm enough? After your long walk on the cliffs, I'm surprised you wish for more."
"I can never get enough of the sea air," Charlotte said as they started walking. She looked sideways at him and said pointedly, "I do love Sanditon."
Ralph nodded without much conviction. "It has its fine points, to be sure, but I find myself missing the farm. The sea air reminds me of nothing so much as biting into a lemon with every breath. The farm is all green grass and animal sounds, which give me peace."
"And you would miss your farm if you had to be away from it for any length of time, wouldn't you?" Charlotte was beginning to see a way into this conversation. "I've come to realize that is exactly how I feel about this place."
Ralph turned to her, finally hearing what she was saying. "Well, then, once a year, if the duties of the farm allow, you might return for a day or two?"
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte said, "I want more than that, Ralph."
"More than a day? Well, after a year or so, once you get into the routine, perhaps that can be arranged," he said. Charlotte could see that he was tiring of this line of discourse, so she would need to be more direct.
She stopped at the gazebo on the edge of the sand, and turned toward the sea. The wind had calmed, and she felt the light breeze off the ocean that she loved so much. Fresh, full of salt and the merest hint of fish and seaweed. The moon was nearly full tonight and it drew a silver stripe across the water and illuminated the long sandy beach in front of her. Charlotte steeled herself by hanging on to the wooden railing and waited until he joined her there.
She spoke firmly to be heard over the distant sound of the waves. "Ralph, I have no desire to hurt you, but I cannot marry you."
She could see his furrowed brow in the light of the moon, but he stayed silent.
Charlotte looked back at the sea and said softly, "I am so sorry. My heart is here and yours is on the farm. I cannot find the middle ground. And you are such a good man and you deserve to be loved, which I cannot do. You deserve a wife who loves the land as you do and wants to stand by your side to work it. I want the sea, and the cliffs and the wind, and…"
"And Mr. Colbourne?"
In shock, she turned to him, speechless.
Ralph surprised her by smiling. "Charlotte, you told me that the two of you shared a kiss, and I know you well enough to understand that you wouldn't take an action such as that lightly. He lives here in Sanditon. I know that the two of you had a disagreement, but from the little you told me, it seemed a passionate one. I've watched you grieve something for four months. I can only assume that he is that something."
Charlotte was astonished into silence. Was it so clear? Did everyone know? Georgiana had told her that her dance with Alexander at the Ball was all the proof anyone needed to know that they were in love, and Charlotte had scoffed at her. If Ralph knew, just from a few conversations…
"Do you love him, Charlotte?"
She was physically unable to speak. In her ears still was Alexander asking if she loved Ralph, and now Ralph was asking the same about Alexander. It was almost too much to conceive. But her silence told Ralph all he needed to know, and he pulled himself up to his full height and took a deep breath.
"I'm glad we are talking about this, Charlotte. There are things I need to say to you as well. I was going to wait until we traveled back home to Willingden, but it feels that this may be the right moment."
Ralph looked down at his shoes, and began slowly. "I have vowed to do my duty and follow my father's wishes, and I have been determined to make the best of it. You and I have known each other for so long and so well that this could be a pleasing match, but you might notice that since you came here to Sanditon the second time, I have not confessed my love for you."
Charlotte hadn't noticed, but she had been admittedly distracted.
"I went to my father many months ago requesting permission to ask for the hand of one of the Heywood sisters in marriage, but this time it was not your hand I was requesting. It was Catherine's."
As her mouth dropped open, Charlotte realized this conversation had just taken a very sharp turn. Catherine? Her little sister, who was not so little anymore. Seventeen and grown into a beautiful and accomplished young woman.
"When I heard you were spending this second season here in Sanditon working as a governess, I assumed – as many did – that you would never accept an offer of marriage and that you had chosen spinsterhood for your future. Catherine was a comfort to me in those times, and well, one thing led to another, and we fell in love. When I revealed the attachment to my father, he told me that under no circumstances would a second younger Heywood daughter marry before you did, and that he and your father had already arranged that you and I should wed. When I protested, he said I would adapt, and that one Heywood daughter would likely be as good as the next."
Charlotte went from amazement to annoyance at the speed of light. "Oh, he did, did he?"
Ralph laughed, "Yes, that was also my feeling and I did tell him so, but he would not be moved. He told me it was my duty as the oldest and that we all had to make sacrifices…"
Now Charlotte laughed. "My father's words exactly! They clearly coordinated their attack!"
After Charlotte had caught her breath, she said softly, "So you love Catherine? And she loves you?"
Ralph sighed. "Yes, so dearly. And I can't tell you what a relief it is to be saying all this to you. It has been like a sword over my head for months, but I had to assure myself that I would not be dealing your heart yet another blow. Now that I am certain you love another I can be honest. I am determined to let my father, and yours, know that Catherine and I will not be parted."
Charlotte was reeling a bit, but the relief engendered by this most astounding conversation was so welcome that she managed to find her footing enough to move to Ralph and give him the type of sisterly embrace she had been giving for years before everything had become so complicated. "I am so happy for you both!"
Stepping back, Charlotte laughed. "Catherine! How could she not tell me?"
Ralph nodded. "She wanted to, so badly. The time since you were back in Willingden has been all manner of torture for her. Contemplating a life ahead with me married to her beloved sister was almost more than she could bear." Ralph smiled. "I cannot tell you how happy this news will make her."
For a moment they stood in silence, absorbing this news and their good fortune.
Ralph's brow furrowed again. "And what of your Mr. Colbourne? Does he love you as well? Is there hope for you to make a reconciliation?"
"I feel there may be," Charlotte said, unable to believe she was having this conversation.
"Then you must do what you can to make that happen," he said, taking her hand gently. "I know now what happiness is, and I can feel it in my grasp as well. We must not give up on it."
Charlotte felt the prick of tears behind her eyes. "Ralph, you are such a good man. My sister is very fortunate."
Raising her wrist so that she could get to the clasp on her purse, Charlotte retrieved a small velvet pouch. She removed the long glove on her left hand and took Ralph's engagement ring off of her finger. Depositing it safely in the pouch, she pressed it into Ralph's palm.
"Catherine will love having this."
"Thank you." He smiled, this time the broad grin she remembered from their childhood together. "We will still have to tell our fathers," he said, looking skyward and laughing. "But not tonight. Tonight we are going to a party. Will he be there?"
"Yes," Charlotte said shyly. Her heart was suddenly racing with the prospect of seeing Alexander again.
Ralph offered her his arm. "Then we had better get you there immediately."
Charlotte put her arm through his, and she could only shake her head and think that this had been the most bewildering, wonderful, brilliant and perfect day in her recollection.