I did NOT mean to leave you on such a cliffhanger! Without further ado, let's see what Mrs. Campion wants with Charlotte.

As always, loved each and every one of your comments, including the guest reviewers Claire, Isa, and the one who hasn't left their name, as well as laurarenea, who I can't seem to reply to directly - thank you so much! It makes me so happy that people are invested in this fic :)


Charlotte wordlessly climbed into Eliza Campion's carriage. The door shut behind her with a thud, and the carriage started moving before she was even in her seat, causing her to stumble backwards and almost sprawl ungainly on the bench opposite to the one on which Mrs. Campion sat. She righted herself before taking a quick look around, ignoring the other lady's smirk.

The carriage was obviously expensive. It was well sprung and comfortable, its interiors lushly done up. The seats, of expensive white leather, were soft as butter while the walls were upholstered in fabric of a beautiful floral design. It was a bit ostentatious for Charlotte's tastes, but she could not deny its elegance.

But in the presence of Mrs. Campion, it felt like a prison cell, and she sat as far away as possible from her as she could in the restricted space.

She tried to keep her face impassive, but at least some of her discomfort must have been apparent because the other lady let out a grating little laugh.

"Oh, come now, Miss Heywood," she tittered, setting Charlotte's teeth on edge, "There's no need to look so alarmed. I am not abducting you, after all. I know you arrived in London three days ago and I merely wanted to see how you were settling in."

In her irritation and the trepidation of unexpectedly having to deal with Eliza Campion, the possibility of an abduction had not even occurred to her even though she'd been instrumental in rescuing her friend from one mere days ago. Despite the hostility Charlotte had experienced from Mrs. Campion a week ago at the regatta, she would not have been able to stretch it to associating her with truly nefarious deeds like kidnapping. But now, she eyed the other woman warily; from her tone, it sounded as though she was fully capable of arranging for one, but was just choosing not to — yet.

"I thought we could take a walk in this… er… lovely park," Mrs. Campion continued, her lip curling in obvious disdain as they pulled up before the gates of Bedford Park barely two minutes later, "while we bring each other up on our news."

The carriage door opened once again, and the footman's hand thrust inside imperiously, almost commanding Charlotte to step out. This time, she felt no hesitation in taking it and got out of the carriage as fast as she could.

Mrs. Campion exited more gracefully but equally swiftly. Once she had stepped out, she slid her arm through Charlotte's and directed them through the park gates, the footman following several paces behind them. Charlotte tried to remove her hand but the woman's grip was tight and her nails were sharp as claws when she pressed them against her skin.

"It would hardly be wise to make a scene, don't you think, Miss Heywood?" She turned her wide-eyed, seemingly guileless gaze on her as they strolled into the park.

There weren't too many people there at the time, and whatever Mrs. Campion decided to say to her, there was no one in the immediate vicinity to hear; that was clearly why she had chosen this park in the first place. That did not mean they would not have an audience if there was a scene. But Charlotte knew she would be the one to come off badly in such an instance, and not Mrs. Campion. She had no choice but to keep moving with her unwanted companion.

They walked on silence down the path, heading deeper into the park, but after a few moments, Charlotte could not stand the suspense any longer. "Is there a reason you wished to talk to me alone, Mrs. Campion?"

"My, my, impatient aren't you, Miss Heywood? But that is to be expected, I suppose. A farmer's daughter such as yourself cannot be expected to possess the refinement of someone from fashionable society." She gave her a pitying glance. "Very well, let us speak plainly."

There was something about the way she said Charlotte's very name that made it sound like an insult, and it made Charlotte grit her teeth. "I cannot see what possible reason you might have to seek my company. You made your opinion of me quite clear at the regatta."

"And yet you persist in overreaching and insinuating yourself into situations above your station, where you clearly do not belong."

"I was — and still am — a guest of the Parkers," Charlotte reminded her.

"Guest!" Mrs. Campion scoffed. "Sidney told me Mary and Tom Parker brought you from your village to help with the children. You are nothing more than a glorified childminder. Do not delude yourself into thinking you are anything more."

The swiftness with which Mrs. Campion dropped all pretence at politeness was something to behold. At least in the refreshments tent at the regatta, she had come up with weak reasons to pretend to mitigate her insults. But that was in the presence of other people like Sidney and Lady Susan — people she considered important and wanted to impress, and in whose good books she wanted to remain. Clearly she did not see the need to restrain herself now.

Charlotte sighed inwardly. They had barely spoken for a few minutes and her patience with Mrs. Campion was already beginning to dissolve. It felt as if she were talking to one of her recalcitrant younger siblings when they were in a particularly bad mood and angling for a fight. In such an instance, she usually set them some task to work off their pique, and they would find her later and either apologise or talk it out when they were calmer.

Since none of these steps were an option right now, Charlotte decided it was best to end the conversation before it went any further. She did not see anything fruitful coming from it. She stopped walking, forcing the other woman to halt too, and rather forcibly removed her hand from hers. "Regardless, I do not see how my relationship with the Parkers is any of your concern. Good day, Mrs.–"

"I'm afraid I do not share that sentiment." Eliza Campion's eyes glittered coldly. "It is very much my concern when you persist in throwing yourself at Sidney when you are well aware he is spoken for."

The irony of the situation was not lost on Charlotte. Sidney was indeed spoken for, but Mrs. Campion could not know that. Charlotte had no intention of telling her; she and Sidney could not make their betrothal public until they spoke to her parents, and her relationship with Sidney and the rest of the Parkers was really none of Mrs. Campion's business. But it left Charlotte in the absurd position of having to defend herself when she shouldn't have to, to a woman who did not seem to be prepared to let her go without some kind of confrontation.

This combined with her rapidly depleting patience for the other woman goaded her to ask, "Is he?"

"Is he what?"

"Spoken for? By you?"

"We might have been engaged at the regatta were it not for your theatrics and tantrums!" Mrs. Campion snapped.

"Surely Mr. Parker is able to make up his own mind about where to engage his affections?"

The genuine surprise in Mrs. Campion's laughter was entirely insulting. "Oh you naïve child, do you really think Sidney's affections lie with you?" She chuckled gaily, as if it was some great joke. "Such delusions of grandeur you have! Did you think a puerile miss such as yourself would be able to ensnare him after knowing him barely a few weeks when he has loved me for a decade?"

They faced each other, standing under one of the large sycamore trees just off the path. Charlotte said nothing and Mrs. Campion continued.

"Oh, I dare say you are cunning enough, despite your ignorant provincial upbringing, to know how to entice him. Men are weak creatures, easily seduced by a woman's... charms." Mrs. Campion pointedly raked an insolent glance up and down Charlotte's figure. "All that pretence at virginal innocence, and… well, Sidney always has been the protective sort. But for how long do you imagine you will be able to hold his attention with your inexperience? What do you know of his appetites, his dark desires?"

At first, all Charlotte felt was confusion. Appetites, dark desires — it sounded positively Gothic, and for a moment, she could not even begin to fathom what Mrs. Campion was talking about. But from the conversation she'd had with Susan mere hours ago — and the sudden memory of being with Sidney inside Beecroft's 'boarding' house — she quickly realised Mrs. Campion was referring to the intimacies between men and women. And remembering her own scandalous thoughts just a few minutes ago, she coloured, trying not to appear discomfited.

But of course, Mrs. Campion's sharp eyes missed nothing. "Just as I thought!" she crowed. "Not as innocent as you pretend, are you Miss Heywood?" Then her eyes narrowed with anger. "Did you think spreading your legs for him would be enough to sway him away from me?"

Charlotte was so shocked at the crassness of the accusation that the denial rose swiftly and hotly to her lips. "You are greatly mistaken about my character and his if you believe either of us would engage in any sort of impropriety!"

Her reply was so vehement, it could not be anything but the truth. Mrs. Campion smiled, satisfied. "He has not succumbed to your wiles, then. Not for lack of trying on your part, I'm certain. But he would not, would he? No, he is devoted to me and has stayed constant to me."

Her smile turned cruel. "He certainly did not withhold his attentions towards me when he was last in London."

Though she was standing outdoors in an open park, Charlotte suddenly felt like she was trapped in an airless room. She looked at Mrs. Campion, wondering if she had misheard, or misunderstood her meaning. But there was no mistaking the expression of smug victory of her face.

"Between you and I," said Mrs. Campion, leaning forward conspiratorially, as if she was sharing something with her closest friend, "he was accomplished enough ten years ago, but I must say he has now surpassed all my expectations beyond my imagination."

Charlotte was unprepared for the stab of acute hurt this piece of information brought. Her heart pounded painfully, and her stomach churned and twisted, making it ache.

She was transported back to the night of Mrs. Maudsley's rout, to the moment Tom had destroyed her illusions by pointing out Sidney speaking with the most elegant looking woman she had ever seen, telling her it was his long-lost love. She remembered what it had felt like to see them together — Mrs. Campion pretty and poised, Sidney dark and handsome, a striking couple that was already drawing the eyes of people in the room. The familiar way in which Mrs. Campion had put her hand on Sidney's arm, and the way he had allowed it. The way they had smiled and talked with each other.

After that mesmerising dance, and the growing realisation that she was indeed in love with him, watching him completely forget her existence because of another woman — Charlotte had been… shattered. And humiliated. While she had been enthralled by the look in his dark eyes, his unwavering gaze, imagining that he too felt that mesmerising connection, it had been just another dance with just another woman to him. He had not felt anything, or if he had, it had been weak and vanished like a wisp at the reappearance of his long-lost love.

Despite everything that had occurred since that ball, despite that Sidney had told Charlotte he loved her and they were now betrothed, the thought that he had kissed Mrs. Campion — or worse, been intimate with her — made Charlotte's gorge rise.

She knew she had no claim on him at that time. She had left London after Georgiana's rescue believing Sidney still had a poor opinion of her and still regarded her as a naïve, outspoken country girl who was nothing to him other than his brother's houseguest. And he had stayed back in the capital that week, and no doubt met and spent time alone with Mrs. Campion.

Charlotte and Sidney had not been together then; they had not even known of one another's feelings. She could not be surprised when she all but knew Sidney had tried to rekindle things between himself and his former love. She could not object to his actions from before there was any understanding between herself and him, before they had become engaged. But it did not make the thought of him and Eliza Campion together in any way any less painful — and repulsive.

Mrs. Campion saw her opponent's ashen face, and rejoiced to see that her barb had hit home, just as she had intended. And struck once again while the iron was still hot.

"Why do you think he did not marry all these years? No other woman has been good enough for him. The man Sidney is today is because of me! The pain of losing me drove him to the West Indies, and he returned successful and wealthy, did he not?" She asked proudly, as if she was personally responsible for Sidney's success. "And you thought you could compete with his devotion for me? Did you believe he would set me aside for you? Especially now that fate has gifted us a second chance and we are both free to marry?"

Charlotte had never actually hated anyone in her life so far — she had not met anyone who merited such intense negative feelings. But Mrs. Campion did not seem to care how badly she had hurt Sidney when she had thrown him over for a richer prospect; in fact, she seemed to take a certain pleasure in knowing he had suffered so because of her. That alone was enough to make Charlotte loathe her.

"Oh, I know Sidney is being difficult right now, pretending to still be upset with me over what happened ten years ago. I imagine he thinks it's a way of punishing me. It is why he is enacting this ridiculous charade of being taken with you. But you have nothing to offer him — no wealth, no connections, no breeding, and no beauty. You are a person of no consequence."

Charlotte had heard worse criticism of herself, her large family, and her background — most notably from society betters like Lady Denham — without it bothering her much. She was a sensible young woman who was well aware of her intelligence, her worth, and her capabilities. She knew she was not considered a beauty, but knew also that she was not unattractive. At any rate, such things mattered little to her. She did not lack confidence in herself, or not very much. She was a gentleman's daughter and conducted herself as such.

Yet, to hear this succinct, brutal assessment of what society deemed as her shortcomings, coming from the elegant Mrs. Campion, who Sidney had until very recently been in love with — and who was beautiful and sophisticated and charming and everything Charlotte wasn't — coming now, given what she had just learnt about her and Sidney — Charlotte, who could normally hold her own in any conversation, had to steel herself not to let Mrs. Campion's words batter away at her self-confidence any more than she already had.

She stood quietly, fuming inside yet unable to stoop to the woman's level, nor, in all honesty, able to think of a single suitable response. Her emotions were a complete maelstrom inside her.

"A man like him might be inclined to consider you for a dalliance, but he would never regard you as a matrimonial prospect unless he was looking to do something foolishly noble — like helping a pitiful girl of low birth by pulling her and her large family out of poverty."

Mrs. Campion rolled her eyes and Charlotte frowned inwardly, trying to understand what she might mean by that.

"He always was soft-hearted, always looking to help people, rescue them. That's why he is in London now, is he not? To keep his brother out of debtors' prison?"

Charlotte stilled. How did Mrs. Campion know about the debt?

"Oh, I know all about Tom Parker's circumstances," the other lady said, as if she'd read Charlotte's mind. "Not buying insurance, such a careless gamble," she tutted. "And if he cannot repay the debt, both he and Sanditon are doomed. That is why Sidney has been running from pillar to post, has he not? Begging someone to loan them the funds?"

There almost seemed to be a hint of satisfaction in her tone at Sidney's lack of success on that front and the Parkers' impending doom.

"The banks will not help. They are aware Tom is a fool when it comes to money. He never did have any sense for business. And while Sidney is astute enough in his financial dealings, he will find that not a single moneylender or investor in this city will lift a finger to help him. Nobody but I."

Charlotte blinked. "You– You would invest in Sanditon?"

Mrs. Campion let out that irritating trill of laughter again. "After a fashion. As Sidney's wife, my fortune would be at his disposal, of course."

Wife, Charlotte thought. Of course. She wanted to tie Sidney to her forever in whichever way she could, uncaring for what his wishes might be or what his heart might want. The Parkers' predicament was to her just a means to an end.

"Come now, Miss Heywood, there's no need to be so surprised. I thought we were speaking plainly. Did we not just decide Sidney would never see you as a suitable wife?"

It was astounding how sincere and sympathetic Mrs. Campion could look and sound when her words were anything but. It occurred to Charlotte that if this was what polite society raised a woman to be, she was thankful she had never been a part of it and nor did she ever want to.

"Surely you don't think he is going stand by and watch as his brother is sent to prison, and his sister-in-law and her children end up on the streets?" There was a trace of mockery in Mrs. Campion's words. "He has just a week to repay the debt, does he not? His time is almost up and he cannot afford to wait any longer. His friends cannot help him. Crowe does not have the money, Babington is in straitened circumstances, and I cannot imagine why he thought Martin Blake might be able to help him. Sidney has no one else to turn to. He will realise there is no door open for him save mine."

How did Mrs. Campion know about or Lady Denham's one-week deadline and what did she mean by that comment about Lord Babington's finances? Charlotte was sure something was going on here that she did not understand.

"If you think running to Lady Worcester would do you any good, let me assure you it will not. Her only claim to influence is her connection to the Prince Regent, and he will most certainly not invest in Sanditon. He will never back any venture that might be a direct competition to Brighton and besides, he is in far too much debt himself."

The quieter Charlotte stayed, the more emphatic Eliza Campion's arguments had become. But it was clearly time to bring this conversation to an end. "What is it you want from me, Mrs. Campion?"

"Why, for you to enlighten Sidney on his best option, of course. The only course of action he can take, in truth." She paused and her tone hardened. "And to tell you to go back to your village. You have imposed on the Parkers' hospitality long enough. I will not have you take advantage of them anymore. I want you gone."

Charlotte did not know whether to laugh or to be outraged. "I can assure you, if Mrs. Parker felt I was outstaying my welcome, she would have–"

"If you claim to care for them," Mrs. Campion interrupted, "you would not stand in the way of their rescue from ruination. Would you be able to live with yourself if they ended up in the poorhouse because of you? I don't imagine Sidney will want anything to do with you when he learns he had the chance to save his family, but you did not see fit to let him take it. If you hold any regard for him at all, you would step aside and let him be happy with the woman he loves. You have kept him from doing the right thing for himself and his family long enough."

What Mrs. Campion hoped to achieve by trying to guilt her into action, Charlotte had no idea. But she'd had enough of this conversation. She lifted her chin and looked the other woman square in the eye. "If you are so assured about Mr. Parker's affections, Mrs. Campion, then you have no cause to worry about my presence or absence," she said firmly. "If you know him well, you know he is a loyal man who will do whatever is needed to ensure the happiness of those he loves. If you believe his affections to be firmly fixed on you, then you have no reason to fear a young, inexperienced girl from the country."

"Fear?" Eliza Campion's mouth curled into a sneer. "You think I am afraid of you? You cannot touch me, foolish girl! I decided to give you this warning as a favour to the Parkers. I have no reason to be afraid of you. You, on the other hand, have no idea how thoroughly I can ruin you and your family."

There was something in Mrs. Campion's eyes that for the first time made Charlotte feel true alarm.

"It would be a pity wouldn't it, if Charles Heywood was to have some sort of accident back in Willingden? Or if one of the little ones disappeared, and no one knew what happened to them? Ben perhaps, or little Emma?"

Charlotte froze at the mention of her father and her two youngest siblings, fear filling her heart.

Mrs. Campion smiled to see her arrow had struck home. "Don't be so surprised. I make it my business to know such things."

When Charlotte said nothing, Mrs. Campion couldn't help but twist the knife further. "But perhaps that is too tame. After all, what scandal can a maimed old farmer be? As for missing children, your family has so many, Miss Heywood, your parents might actually be glad to be rid of a few." She laughed as if she had said something very witty. "No, perhaps it is Alison who might be abducted and ruined… how would your family ever recover from that?"

Terror clogged Charlotte's throat as Mrs. Campion's eyes glittered with cold malice.

"If you wish to ensure that your family stays safe, you will go back to your village, and stay away from Sidney."

Charlotte found her voice. "Are you threatening me?"

"Threatening? Oh no, no. That is such a crass word, don't you think? I'm merely cautioning you, Miss Heywood. I'm even offering to sweeten the deal. I will give you five hundred pounds to go back to Willingden. There!" Mrs. Campion gave her a self-satisfied smile. "That should be more than enough to make some hay-faced simpleton farm boy happy when you marry him!"

A wave of nausea welled up in Charlotte and for a moment she was afraid she would be violently sick right there in the park. Fortunately, anger came to her rescue, allowing her to hold her emotions in check. She steeled her spine. She would not give Mrs. Campion the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart.

Without a single word more, she turned and walked away.


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