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Continues immediately after Sidney's conversation with Georgiana.

By the time Sidney left Mrs. Griffith's lodgings, he had a mild headache. But he was reasonably satisfied with his visit with Georgiana. It had not been the most cordial of exchanges with his ward but it had been honest and ultimately fruitful, and while they had not come to any sort of explicit truce, he welcomed what he hoped was a cessation of hostilities.

But his next appointment was at Sanditon House and a conversation with Lady Denham loomed ahead. The great lady of the town made it a point to be difficult, although she should be pleased enough with the news he had to give her. After all, she was getting back the entire amount she had invested in the Sanditon venture, as she had demanded in the Parkers' last meeting with her. Still, one never knew with her unpredictable nature.

Sidney could not help but wish Charlotte was with him. She had a knack for dealing with difficult people — himself included — and her presence at their previous meeting with Lady Denham had been instrumental in keeping her from having Tom immediately thrown into debtors' prison. But he chastised himself that it was unrealistic to want her presence every time he had to have a difficult conversation.

Thinking of Charlotte also reminded him of Georgiana's words — "If her father gives you his blessing" — which made him nervous, not a state he wanted to be in while dealing with the irascible patroness. So he forced all thoughts of his beloved and his upcoming visit to Willingden to the back of his mind.

He was glad to find Babington and Lady Augusta already at Sanditon House when he arrived; they were in. But if he had hoped the news he brought with him would be welcomed by Lady Denham, he was not entirely correct. Far from being pleased that she was receiving her entire investment back in full, Lady Denham perceived it as a way for the Parkers to oust her from the town's development by bringing in outside investors.

"And from where did you manage to find such an amount at such short notice?" She demanded suspiciously when he handed her the packet containing the papers detailing the repayment process and the return instalments.

Sidney explained how, with Lady Worcester's help, they had secured two major investors apart from Lady Worcester herself, Crowe, and Lady Denham's own new nephew-in-law to be. But when she learnt the identities of the two investors, she was incensed.

"Lord Grasmere? That puffed up popinjay! What does he know of investing?"

Sidney cleared his throat. "I believe it is his wife who approved of the investment. Like you, Lady Grasmere is a formidable woman who is most knowledgeable about her finances and manages their fortune herself."

But this information seemed to aggravate Lady Denham even more. "I would thank you not to compare me to an upstart like Althea Grasmere, Mr. Parker!" she barked.

Sidney glanced around; Babington, Miss Denham and Lady Augusta all looked just as surprised as him at her vehement outburst. Clearly, there was some prior enmity between Lady Denham and Lady Grasmere, or the former held some grudge against the latter that none of her relatives knew of. Whatever it was, it was raising her ire by the minute.

"And Lord Melrose?! Whose foreign wife has turned him against his own family and forced him to cut them off?!"

Babington cleared his throat. "I can assure you that story is false, Lady Denham. Lord Melrose is a distant cousin, and–"

"Why must I disbelieve it?" Lady Denham demanded belligerently. "She is clearly yet another headstrong young lady — from the colonies, no less! — who thinks herself better than her social superiors just because she is a minor royal!"

The not-so-veiled dig at Georgiana did not go unnoticed by Sidney, who felt his temper begin to stir at Lady Denham's adamant prejudice. Babington's face too hardened at the insult, not just to himself but to Sidney's ward and his own family members as well. His recent interactions with Lord and Lady Melrose had made him aware of just how much the couple had suffered due to society's prejudiced beliefs, compounded by the actions of Lord Melrose's own family.

But Lady Denham was not done yet. "Why didn't you just marry that rich widow I heard you were squiring about at the regatta?" she demanded of Sidney. "Her fortune is said to put Miss Lambe's to shame, is it not? Or better still, marry your buffoonish younger brother to your ward, since you cannot do so yourself? Miss Lambe has a hundred thousand and since she has rejected my nephew, her insolent nature is not going to help her find another husband. Her fortune might as well be put to some good use!"

She seemed to have either forgotten or chose to ignore that she had disowned said nephew herself and banished him from Sanditon.

Sidney grit his teeth. "Forgive me Lady Denham, but I see no reason why I should seek to sell myself to the highest bidder. Nor to trap my brother and my ward in a loveless marriage neither is suited for. Particularly when there is a perfectly good solution at hand."

"Love!" Lady Denham scoffed. "I do not understand this poppycock notion that has filled the minds of you young nincompoops! What does love have to do with anything?! Marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more! Look at my niece. Esther saw the light and set aside all her ridiculous ideals when she accepted Lord Babington's proposal."

"That is not why I accepted him!" Esther Denham burst out. She had remained a silent spectator so far, observing the conversation between Sidney and her aunt with her customary haughtiness, as if she found it all utterly boring and dreary. But now she looked uncomfortable, strained, and distressed by her aunt's words.

Babington, seated next to her, reached out and squeezed her hand, soothing her, unbothered that his open gesture of affection was not sitting well with his affronted future aunt-in-law.

Sidney wanted to laugh at Lady Denham's absurdity; a nincompoop was not the worst thing he had been called. Besides, it would not help to lose his temper with someone whose own anger was so volatile and who could well make life very miserable for him and the rest of the Parkers. It would only prolong this conversation when all he wanted was to do was end this meeting and move on to his next task. The sooner he tackled his errands in Sanditon, the sooner he could head to Willingden and Charlotte and meet her parents.

"The Parkers are returning your full investment to you, Lady Denham, as you rightfully asked. How does it matter which way we achieve it as long as you get your money back?"

"Because you have the audacity to try to oust me from control of the development of my own town, Mr. Parker! Did you really think I would sit back and let the future of Sanditon be dictated by outsiders?! Let the shades of Sanditon be thus polluted? I think not!"

Every other person present in the room rolled their eyes — inwardly or behind Lady Denham's back — at her dramatic proclamation.

"Aunt, how else–"

"Do not contradict me!"

"Lady Denham." Babington's voice was respectful but firm; he had enough of the lady throwing her weight around and did not like the tone she took with Esther. Besides, Sidney's expression was transforming into an angry glower, which meant he could soon lose his temper if he was pushed further, something that might prove disastrous for him. Babington had more social clout to stand up to Lady Denham than his friend. So, while Lady Denham might not have any compunctions insulting those she considered beneath her social station, she would think twice before doing the same to a peer of the realm, especially an earl who was going to marry her niece.

"No outsider is going to be dictating the progress of the town's development. Parker here will be overseeing the entire venture, including handling all the financial aspects, while Miss Heywood will be managing the day-to-day business of the project herself. And you can rest assured she will do a good and fair job. They both will."

"Miss Heywood?" Lady Denham scoffed incredulously in the same tone she had once used with Esther to scoff at the notion of love. "Miss Heywood? Why should Miss Heywood have anything to do with Sanditon?"

"Those of us who invested unanimously agreed we wished her to be in charge of the development." Babington did not see the harm in embellishing a little. Everyone had unanimously approved the decision, after all. "She is extremely capable and it is an eminently sensible step. She has become a valuable resident of the town, has she not? The idea of the regatta was hers and she organised the entire event almost singlehandedly. It was successful beyond any of our imaginations."

"It is the most imbecilic thing I have ever heard! She is a headstrong girl with far too many opinions! And whoever has heard of a young unmarried gel doing a man's job! It is inappropriate!"

"Miss Heywood is the reason Sanditon has investors in the first place!" Sidney countered, unable to remain quiet.

"It is true," Lord Babington explained. "It was Miss Heywood who Lady Worcester came to meet when she visited Sanditon for the regatta. Lady Worcester thinks very highly of her and it was her influence that helped us secure our most prominent investors. Lady Worcester's and the other investors' endorsement, both financial and social, will attract more visitors to the town."

"And I suppose Miss Heywood's parents will just permit her to continue living in Sanditon?" Lady Denham asked archly as she turned her gaze, piercing and speculative, upon Sidney. "Will she continue to impose on the Parkers?"

"Appropriate arrangements will be made–," Babington began.

"Miss Heywood has never been an imposition on the Parkers, I assure you," Sidney said. "Quite the opposite, in fact; we are quite beholden to her. But to answer your question, I have asked her to marry me and she has agreed."

It was no use withholding the information from Lady Denham; she would learn of it very soon or figure it out herself. "I intend to go to Willingden once my business here in Sanditon is concluded and ask for her parents' blessings."

"I see," Lady Denham said after a loaded pause. "Well it seems Miss Heywood was speaking the truth after all. If she has agreed to marry into the Parker family, she must truly not have come to Sanditon to find a rich husband. And here I thought she was a sensible girl. Am I to believe she is holding true to her convictions and marrying for mutual love and affection? I do recall she gave her opinions very decidedly on the subject for a young lady such as herself and regarded marriage without these qualities akin to some form of slavery."

"I believe so." Sidney replied, hoping he was not blushing. He did not want to give Lady Denham the satisfaction of seeing him discomposed. A more reassuring thought was that she had not dismissed his hopes outright by telling him Charlotte's parents would surely refuse him. If she thought so, she would not have held back on airing her thoughts loud and clear.

Lady Denham humphed, disgruntled. "It seems you too are touched in the head by this romantic poppycock and nonsense. And here I thought you a sensible businessman, Mr. Parker. It would be more in keeping with your character had you chosen Miss Heywood as your bride based on her usefulness rather than mawkish sentiment."

Anger and astonishment stayed Sidney's tongue. And people thought he was rude and insufferable?

"Although I suppose it says something about Mrs. Campion that even her vast fortune could not induce you to marry her," Lady Denham continued.

He would not have divulged the details of Mrs. Campion's penniless state even had there been no need to keep them confidential. As it was, they had promised Lord Ashbourne their silence while Whitehall carried out their investigation into the business malpractices of Campion Industries.

"And what of Mr. Tom Parker?" Lady Denham suddenly noticed the absence of her former business partner. "Why is he not here with you here today? Does he persist in hiding and ignoring his responsibilities, leaving his brother to deal with them instead?"

"Tom will not be involved in the immediate future of Sanditon," Sidney informed her, relieved to move on from the subject. He did not blame Lady Denham for her derisive words about Tom; if anyone was justified in their reaction towards his brother's shoddy financial management and reckless decision-making, it was her.

Lady Denham's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well, that at least is a sensible decision."

There was a pause.

"Very well. I will retain my investment for the nonce. And it appears I have no choice but to put up with the likes of the Grasmeres and the Melroses. But I warn you, Mr. Parker!" she announced imperiously, her strident tones filling the large drawing room, "While I may not have the final say on the investors or on the venture itself, I will not stand for the development of my town being taken over by a bunch of outsiders. I will make my opinions and my displeasure known!"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Sidney left Babbers to his fiancé and aunt-in-law and left Sanditon House to walk back to town, happy to get away from that miserable mansion whose inhabitants only spread misery and poison between themselves and others. He wished Babbers the joy of Lady Denham and was grateful beyond words that his own in-laws would not be so convoluted, confusing and downright irritating.

His next stop was his future abode with Charlotte, the only part of his visit to Sanditon he truly looked forward to. Instead of cutting across Lady Denham's deer park — a mild shudder rolled through him when he remembered Charlotte's account of what she had witnessed in its grounds — he turned right once outside the gates and took the path leading away from Sanditon. The prospect of a walk on such a lovely summer's day cheered him and not for the first time since that morning, he wished Charlotte was here to enjoy it with him.

Soon, he told himself. Soon.

Hopefully, the voice in his head reminded him very unhelpfully, making him groan.

It was entirely a coincidence that he bumped into Dr. Fuchs, who was also out for a walk, enjoying the sunshine and the cooling breezes blowing in over the cliffs from the open sea.

"Ah Herr Sidney," he said when he spotted him. He took a giant, deep sniff. "Can you smell the sea air? Most refreshing!"

"It certainly is, Dr. Fuchs," Sidney agreed with a smile, causing the doctor to eye him a little curiously. No doubt he was remembering the short-tempered man who had walked out halfway through his demonstration at Lady Denham's house at the start of the summer and wondering why he had changed so much.

His own opinion of Dr. Fuchs had undergone a sea change from that disastrous demonstration after he had successfully saved Old Stringer's limb and life. (Although it would seem Old Stringer's days had certainly been numbered, considering the tragedy that had befallen him just some weeks later.)

Sidney shook off that morbid thought and focused on the good doctor instead. "I am walking to the Old Parker House," he explained. "It is a fair way on."

"Ah yes, delightful looking place!" Dr. Fuchs enthused. "I had a glimpse of it on the way to Sanditon. Well, I shall not be walking quite that far, but perhaps I might walk with you some of the way?"

"Of course."

They fell into step and proceeded for the first few minutes in an amicable silence.

"I have not seen any of the Parkers in Sanditon for the past few days," Dr. Fuchs finally said. "Not even Herr Arthur and Fräulein Parker, who have visited my clinic unfailingly for their daily repairs every single day since I arrived in this town."

He said this with a chuckle, and Sidney could not help but shake his head in amusement at his siblings' antics.

"We have all been in London on some urgent business," he explained. "I trust we did not hold up any matters regarding your practice?"

"Not at all, not at all. Everything is proceeding most smoothly. I have treated everyone from the night of the fire who helped to put it out — most of them had minor scorches and burns, nothing more. And Lady Denham is rallying from her recent illness most well. Er– It is only the news of Herr Stringer's death that was unfortunate."

Dr. Fuchs looked uncomfortable and so did Sidney.

"Yes, it was most unfortunate," he agreed grimly. "I shall be meeting Young Stringer– Mr. James Stringer later today to pay my condolences." If he could find the man, that is.

They walked in silence for a few minutes.

"How fares Herr Tom?"

Sidney was aware it was not an idle question. Tom's disappearance from the burning wreckage of Waterloo Terrace even as the town's inhabitants battled to put out the fire had not gone unnoticed [*]. That the town's great projector had made only a couple of cursory public appearances thereafter had not escaped the townspeople either. Dr. Fuchs was intelligent enough to put two and two together and realise the outcome did not add up. Although, unbeknownst to Sidney, Dr. Fuchs's main clue had come not from his own deductions, but from some of the things Lady Denham had let slip during her tirade against Tom when the doctor had last visited to check on the recovering lady.

Sidney deliberated for a few moments, wondering how much to reveal, then decided it was worth taking the risk. "Now that you ask, Dr. Fuchs, Tom… is not quite alright, I'm afraid."

"Oh! What seems to be the matter?"

Sidney could tell Dr. Fuchs was not feigning his concern. He knew the man thought highly of Tom, who had been the one to push to have him stay in Sanditon by literally going against Lady Denham's objections. Tom had allowed him to start a practice that was gradually becoming increasingly popular amongst the townspeople and even beyond.

He recalled Tom once hoping that a horde of hypochondriacs would descend upon Sanditon, wishing to avail of the good doctor's services and spend money in the seaside spa town. He had scoffed at it back then, but in hindsight, Tom's idea was not without merit.

Perhaps he really should look into asking Arthur and Diana to write to some of the more health-minded acquaintances they had made during their frequent visits to Chichester, Cheltenham, Royal Tunbridge Wells or whichever spa town caught their fancy for its latest cures. Inviting such people to Sanditon might bring some much needed revenue, although it might not bode well for the town to acquire a reputation for catering solely to invalids. That could do more harm rather than help its prospects, for the beau monde would not want to be considered convalescents rather than holiday-goers.

Sidney decided to discuss the perils and advantages of this idea with Charlotte, who might give him another perspective on the matter. But for now–

"We received some… rather disturbing news recently," he said hesitantly. "I'm afraid Tom did not… take very kindly to it."

"News about Sanditon business?" Dr. Fuchs eyed Sidney shrewdly.

"Yes." Sidney paused, not quite sure how to explain without giving away any private Parker affairs. "Dr. Fuchs, may I be assured of your complete confidentiality?"

"Of course, Herr Sidney. You must be aware that I have the highest regard for Herr Tom. And as you are consulting me about his health, I am bound to confidentiality about my patient."

"Very well. Tom has received a rather great disappointment, I'm afraid. He made some… perilous decisions that endangered the standing of the entire Parker family. So, we had to ensure that he would no longer be in charge of the development of Sanditon. His anger was not unexpected, but he has not spoken to anyone since that meeting two mornings ago. He is enraged and resentful and just glares at everyone. It is as if he is throwing a silent but prolonged temper tantrum. I fear it cannot be good for his health."

Dr. Fuchs listened without interrupting and then contemplated in silence as he walked.

"Everyone in Sanditon is aware of Herr Tom's ambitions for the town and his zeal to see it succeed as the finest resort on the south coast," He said finally.

"I'm afraid his ambition has turned into an obsession, Dr. Fuchs," Sidney explained. "He placed the family in circumstances that were quite precarious. We managed to salvage the situation, but it was a narrow escape."

There walked on for a few more minutes in silence as Dr. Fuchs pondered over this information — what Sidney had revealed and, more, what he had left unsaid.

"I think, for Herr Tom, his preoccupation with the development of Sanditon seems to have clouded his sensibilities, affected his thoughts, his entire personality. The only solution, I believe, is to keep him away from the town."

"Surely you are not saying that my brother is mad!?" Sidney asked, alarmed. He was well aware of what happened to people who were considered mad, how those thought have an illness of the mind were treated, even carted off and confined to mental asylums. He might often want to strangle Tom but he had no desire to expose his brother to any such inhumanities or indignities.

"No, no, I am not saying he is mad, Herr Sidney," Dr. Fuchs clucked a tad impatiently. "I believe Herr Tom's obsession with Sanditon is an addiction, much like gambling."

Sidney had used the same word when he had first learnt of the enormity of Tom's mistake, of the extent of the debt.

"As I'm sure you are aware, a seasoned, experienced gambler knows how to calculate his risks and a small loss is not so much of a hindrance if he knows how to recoup it," explained Dr. Fuchs. "But for an inexperienced person or one who takes impulsive, uncalculated risks, I'm afraid that once it turns into an addiction and the gambler starts taking huger risks without a consideration for its consequences, it seldom ends without ruination."

Of this Sidney was well aware; it was why he never gambled unless it was something like just a game of hazard between himself, Babington, and Crowe or a handful of other trusted acquaintances. A player could easily win an entire fortune in a single night. But by the same principle, they could just as easily lose vast sums — even their entire inheritances or their estates — at the gaming tables. They had known it to happen to one of their own when Babington's grandfather and father had depleted the family's wealth and estate due to their reckless gambling habits.

"I believe something similar is the case with Herr Tom, although there might also be other underlying reasons of the mind," Dr. Fuchs continued, "Or even, as some maintain, an imbalance of the humours. I have not personally studied that branch of the medical sciences in much depth. But I could make some enquiries amongst some of my associates in the medical fraternity, if you wish?"

Sidney considered his words, relieved that Tom was not — at least yet — being diagnosed with some form of madness. (Although he did wonder whether, if his brother continued in this way, that day might not be too far away.)

"I do not think it wise for word of this to get out," he said diplomatically. "The potential damage to Tom's reputation and the family's… no, the risk is too high. Not to mention, it might affect the prospects of the town that my brother has worked so hard to develop."

"No matter. I shall not speak of it unless we notice a remarkable deterioration in Herr Tom's condition, if any. But you need not worry, Herr Sidney. I shall be most discreet. No names shall need to be mentioned. I shall only have to describe Herr Tom's behaviours."

"If the need arises, you may be sure we trust you to advice us on the best course of action, Dr. Fuchs. In the meantime, what would you suggest we do?"

"The tranquil atmosphere and refreshing sea air in Sanditon are in fact the best cure," the doctor said, waving his arms to indicate the coastal countryside surrounding them. "I believe Herr Tom would benefit from staying at the seaside. But he must be kept away from the town itself and anything related to the development venture as it will be a constant reminder of his endeavours. Now, if you could persuade him to move his residence to the old Parker House, with its proximity to the sea but its distance from town, I am confident it will work wonders!"

In his enthusiasm to prescribe a cure for Tom, slightly reminiscent of Tom's own zealous promotion of the town, Dr. Fuchs did not notice the fleeting expression of dismay on the middle Parker brother's face.

Sidney looked ahead as the doctor continued to speak, his heart sinking. He had dreamed of raising a family with his wife at the old Parker House long before he had even known Charlotte, even during the time when it had been nothing but a yearning that he believed might never be fulfilled. It was meeting and falling in love with Charlotte that had solidified that yearning, given it shape and meaning. Turned the vague images in his mind of a faceless wife and blurred children into a sharper, clearer picture — a tiny little poppet with curly dark hair and a fearless attitude, a small boy with his mother's inquisitive brown eyes and laughter full of mischief. And of course, Charlotte, dearest Charlotte — the centre, the heart of all his hopes and dreams.

Would he now have to give up the home he had dreamt of for his thankless brother?

"How long would you suggest this mode of treatment for him?" he asked.

"A few months might do the trick but a year or more might be better."

Sidney felt a surge of resentment against his brother. But it was only a momentary stab of emotion. He sighed inwardly, reminding himself Old Parker House was just a building, that he would be happy to live anywhere as long as it was with Charlotte. More, she would chide him for having any reservations at all. She would unhesitatingly and selflessly give up the house if it benefitted Tom's health.

And Sidney knew he would do it, too. While it stung that, yet again, he had to let Tom's needs take precedence over his own, Tom was after all his brother.

Besides, if there was one thing he had learnt from Charlotte, and especially from the events of the past few days, it was that a solution might be found in the most unexpected time and manner and from the unlikeliest of sources. So, he added this to his list of matters upon which to consult Charlotte when he met her.

He felt an unexpected peace and happiness in the knowledge that he truly was not alone anymore, that he did not have to make decisions about matters on his own. That he would soon have a partner now to consult and guide, to share the responsibilities as well as the joys and delights that came with it.

All he had to do was convince her parents that he was worthy of their daughter's hand and heart.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Sidney parted from Dr. Fuchs at the spot where the road split in two, the wider path leading on away from Sanditon while the narrower, less used track turned towards the direction of Old Parker House. The good doctor, having walked far enough, waved and turned to take the road back to the town.

It was not long before the house that Sidney had grown up in came into view as he moved past a small copse of trees, revealing the little hollow it was built in. It was a lovely, large stone cottage perched prettily amidst a beautiful, if slightly wildly growing garden.

Mr. and Mrs. Hillier were delighted as always to have him back. Ever since he returned from Antigua, he tried to see them at last once on every visit to Sanditon. As Mrs. Mullins, the housekeeper at Bedford Place, was Mrs. Hiller's sister, he usually had letters to ferry between them. And despite Sidney not living at Old Parker House, he regularly checked it after buying the house from Tom to see if any major repairs were required because he did not intend for his childhood home to fall into disrepair.

He had already visited the Hilliers earlier this summer when he first arrived in Sanditon, on the very first day, in fact. It was why he had been delayed while driving in; he had sent Babington and Crowe ahead to the Crown hotel while he stopped off at Old Parker House. That had been just before he met Charlotte for the first time, walking on the cliffs with Mary.

This time too, he had letters from Mrs. Mullins to pass on, as well as news of his own to share. Mr. and Mrs. Hillier were thrilled to know he was to (hopefully!) marry soon, and even more overjoyed when they learnt the identity of his intended. They had met Charlotte at church and, like most people in Sanditon, had been charmed by the delightful young woman staying with the Parkers at Trafalgar House.

"Did I not say so, Mr. Hillier?" Mrs. Hillier turned to her husband, overjoyed, "Did I not say that Miss Heywood would make a fine match for our Mr. Sidney?"

"So you did, my dear, so you did." Mr. Hillier smiled indulgently at his wife as Sidney tried to hide his astonishment. He wondered if the whole town had been privy to his and Charlotte's tempestuous 'courtship' while they had been blissfully (or not so blissfully in his case) unaware of the eyes observing them.

Regardless, when Sidney mentioned moving to Sanditon after he and Charlotte wed, Mr. and Mrs. Hillier naturally assumed, given his presence here, that they intended to live at Old Parker House.

Sidney did not have the heart to tell them that there was a chance they might be getting their old landlord back, at least for a few months. Instead, he spent a good part of the rest of his visit going around the house with Mrs. Hillier. He outlined his and Charlotte's requirements and discussed any changes he wanted done. Even if the house was to be given to Tom for his use, he and Charlotte would (hopefully) eventually live here. So, it made sense to renovate it soonest according to his and her needs.

For the main part, he was happy with the house as it was. The Hilliers had maintained it in a fine condition over the past few years since Tom and his family had moved to Trafalgar House. It had retained much of the warmth and atmosphere from his own childhood.

All the furniture was under Holland covers, most of it from his childhood, bought and installed by his parents and grandparents. Tom had commissioned entirely new furnishings for Trafalgar House but Sidney found comfort in the belongings of his family, which neither looked old nor unfashionable but classic and timeless, for his mother and grandmother had both had good taste.

Whenever they finally moved in, Charlotte would have free rein to make any significant changes as she wished. He wanted her to feel comfortable and knew she would do everything to make their house a loving home. He trusted that her tastes matched his and that any changes she made would only enhance their abode.

The bedrooms, dining rooms, parlours, the study and the library were all in mostly excellent condition, evidence of how well the Hilliers had cared for the property. Only some of the furniture needed replacing and re-upholstering. The library, of course, would have to be updated with new books, a task Sidney most eagerly looked forward to undertaking with Charlotte.

He and Mrs. Hillier carefully inspected everything and noted what needed repairing, cleaning or replacing. He suggested that she borrow some of the staff from Trafalgar House to help with the cleaning, now that they were freer without Tom and Mary living there for the time being.

Some areas of the house, however, did require modernisation, such as the kitchen, which needed to be updated with better and safer equipment. Sidney also wanted one of the rooms attached to the master suite to be converted into a special bathing chamber, which would house a bathtub and have other modern plumbing and fittings as well.

He decided that when he met Charlotte in Willingden, he would ask her if there were any specific changes she might like to have made. He would then speak to James Stringer (or the new architect, should they need to employ one) about getting started on the necessary renovations.

Over lunch, Mrs. Hillier promised to start looking for household staff and shortlisting candidates — discreetly, Sidney reminded her, as he had yet to obtain Charlotte's parents' blessings. But Mrs. Hillier brushed that aside; she was completely confident of a favourable outcome of his talk with Mr. and Mrs. Heywood, which quite bolstered him.

It was nearly four o'clock by the time he could leave and he set off back to Sanditon, promising Mrs. Hillier he would check in on the progress whenever he was back next in town again.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Sidney's mood had completely transformed when he left Old Parker House, to the extent that he found himself whistling as he walked back to town. The sun was still high in the sky and cool breezes swept in from the sea, with the cries of seagulls and other birds filling the air as they winged and wheeled far above. He stopped for a moment on the cliffs at the spot where he had first encountered Charlotte — and laughed softly to himself.

Such a pompous fool he had been that day when he had spotted Mary walking on the cliff path with an attractive young lady. Her dancing eyes, curious smile, and unusual beauty had immediately ensnared his attention… causing him to behave like a dismissive brute because he did not want to appear interested, did not want to be interested.

He'd learnt the true meaning of divine retribution over the next few days when he had tried to deny his strong feelings for her. He had ended up tormented as she plagued him and thrilled him equally by popping up most unexpectedly everywhere he went. He had not lost sleep or his mind over a young lady in this fashion in… ever.

Now, he could not imagine not knowing Charlotte — not knowing her opinions, not having her counsel, not being the recipient of her beautiful smiles or her witty banter and playful teasing, not kissing her sweet lips. He really had struck gold in the matter of his life partner — not because she was perfect, for she was not, but because she was perfectly suited for him. As he hoped he was for her.

He decided to take a little detour and climbed up the trail that he and Charlotte had taken on the morning of the midsummer ball, when they had ended up on the clifftops instead of going into town for her dress fitting. Even now, he could not explain how they had come to end up in the complete opposite direction to which they had started. And when he reached the spot where he had kissed her for the first time, he found himself grinning like an exuberant schoolboy at the memory.

He recalled those long lovely moments when they'd been so lost in each other, lips caught in a kiss that he — and hopefully she too — had dreamt of for days. His heart, his entire body ached as a mix of love and longing flooded him.

He remembered other things from that morning — small things he and Charlotte would talk about later that would make them laugh. He had realised only after they'd finally stopped kissing and begun the return walk back to town that he'd dropped his hat somewhere. He had to go back to look for it and found that it had rolled off and was bowling its way gaily down the cliff path. He had chased after it to catch it, making Charlotte giggle adorably.

Joy from the memory flooded him as he started walking again. He had just managed to stop grinning giddily when he reached the spot where the trail rejoined the main path. Only to see James Stringer walking up from another direction, clearly also headed back towards town. His smile vanished.

The two men paused when they saw one another. Both realised at the same time that they were headed in the same direction and could not avoid walking back together unless one of them came up with a believable excuse.

"Mr. Stringer."

"Mr. Parker."

They eyed each other for a moment. Then Sidney gestured him to proceed; with a resigned look and a nod, Stringer did, and Sidney fell into step beside him. The two men walked in silence for a few minutes.

Sidney noticed that Stringer's normally hearty face was drawn and grim, his eyes shuttered, his expression hard. He remembered what Arthur had written to him in his letters: that after his father's death, Stringer often spent his time walking the countryside around Sanditon. He recalled Fred Robinson's words from earlier that morning, confirming much the same.

In the week since that tragic event, Stringer's grief appeared to have hardened him. Sidney could not blame him. Old Stringer had died a terrible death and the Parkers, especially Tom, whom James probably — understandably — held responsible for the tragedy, had decamped to London. More, James had lost the woman he loved to the middle Parker brother, a man he surely deemed unworthy of such a gem of a woman. Add to that the fact that the workers had for many weeks struggled to make ends meet while their employer callously turned a blind eye to their plight. If they were to step into a boxing ring right now, training or no training, Sidney would not fancy his chances against James Stringer, who had every right to hold a grudge against the world, and certainly against the Parkers.

After a few minutes of walking, Sidney could take the silence no longer and the words burned on his tongue. "Mr. Stringer, please allow me to convey mine and the Parker family's deepest condolences for your loss."

Stringer stiffened, then offered him a curt nod but gave no verbal response at first as they continued to walk down the path.

"I was surprised to hear Miss Heywood accompanied you to London," he finally said. "I hoped — expected — she would attend father's funeral."

His voice caught on the words "father" and "funeral".

"Miss Heywood is not to blame for not being present" Sidney hastened to defend her. "She came with the Parkers to London to assist with an urgent matter."

"What possible help could she offer you in London?" There was as much belligerence as there was curiosity in the young foreman's voice. "To my knowledge, she has no love of the place, nor knows anyone there."

"Lady Susan Worcester, who was present at the regatta and presented you with the winner's trophy of the boat race, is a particular friend of Miss Heywood. It was her help we needed with an important matter and Charl– er… Miss Heywood was required to facilitate it."

Stringer's sideways glance was enough to confirm that Sidney's slip up with Charlotte's name had not gone unnoticed.

"I see," he said. "Is Miss Heywood back at Trafalgar House? I should like to pay my respects."

Sidney cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the first buildings that began to appear up ahead as they neared the town. "I'm afraid she had to return to Willingden directly from London."

"Ah. And will she be returning to Sanditon?"

There was a wealth of meaning laced in the question, and Sidney squirmed a little. Damn it, the man was younger than him and yet it was he who felt like a young whelp!

"That would be up to Miss Heywood's parents. But we hope, of course, seeing how fond she is of the town and the people here, that she will be allowed to return for a… longer stay."

This was as explicitly as Sidney could allude to the current state of affairs and nor did he wish to say anything more. It felt too much like rubbing salt into Stringer's wounds, coming so soon after the terrible blow from which he had just suffered. Especially since it had been Stringer who had given him hope that Charlotte returned his feelings when was sure he had lost her for good.

And it was clear that Stringer understood perfectly well what Sidney was trying to convey. He said nothing, but Sidney detected a resignation in his eyes and he did not look surprised at what he had just learnt.

There was an awkward pause before Sidney remembered why he wanted to talk to Stringer that morning in the first place. Extracting a packet from the pocket of his greatcoat, he handed it to the young foreman.

"Your wages, Mr. Stringer."

Several emotions flashed crossed Stringer's face in quick succession — anger, hurt, distaste, ending with a bleakness that made Sidney's gut churn with guilt and anger at his brother's behaviour. Had Tom been more organised, had he paid his workers sufficiently and on time, Old Stringer would have never felt the need to work late and alone that night at the terrace, and would not have died such a horrible death, taking the entire building with him. Tom had orchestrated his own downfall through his carelessness and callous disregard of anything and anyone that he deemed unimportant in his vision of Sanditon. But the price paid by innocent others had been much higher.

"Once again, I am truly sorry for your loss."

"What happened, happened, Mr. Parker," Stringer said dully, taking the packet and stowing it away inside his jacket. "There is no undoing it now."

Sidney hesitated. "I learnt from Miss Heywood that you have received an offer from an architectural firm in London for an apprenticeship? One that you plan to accept?"

Stringer eyed him curiously. "I did," he confirmed. "It had been my intention to accept, but I am not so certain now. I feel I owe it to my father's memory to stay here… at least until the new works are completed."

Sidney nodded, surprised at the man's unexpected forthrightness. "Whatever you decide, I hope you know you can count on the Parkers' support. Here in Sanditon as well as in London. And if you decide to stay on here, I should be glad to work with you on the development project."

"You, sir?"

"Yes." Sidney cleared his throat. "My brother is no longer in charge of the venture. I will be overseeing it along with a manager for its day-to-day business. You can be assured," he added, "that the workers will never again have cause to worry about not receiving their wages."

James Stringer mulled over this piece of news as the two men entered the town and walked down the main street. Sidney Parker taking over the venture from his brother was truly fortuitous news, especially for the workers. He might be many things but the workers in Sanditon had only heard good things about him as a businessman. Servants talked, and on Sidney Parker's many visits to Sanditon, his coach driver had shared how the middle Parker brother was a considerate employer who looked out for the welfare of everyone who worked for him.

There were also the other aspects of their conversation to consider. Despite Mr. Sidney's evasive answers, James suspected he clearly understood the state of affairs between him and Miss Heywood. If she married him and they stayed in Sanditon — which they would have to do if Mr. Sidney was to oversee the development — then Miss Heywood would certainly have a part to play in it. Mr. Sidney was a clever and canny businessman as well as a man of modern thinking; he would not let his wife's obvious talents and capabilities go unused. She would be an asset to the venture. But that would mean James would have to work with her every day too, something he was not sure he was prepared to do. He found he did not exactly mind the prospect, but felt it would be prudent for his peace of mind and still-bruised heart to keep some distance between them.

As they walked down the main street of the town, James averted his eyes from the burnt terrace, unable to face the building. The past week had done nothing to ease his anger and grief about his father's death. The manner in which he died was horrifying enough — the thought of his father's agony as he was burnt alive brought on a fresh wave of pain and horror. But the guilt he felt at leaving his father while he had gone off to a ball and the regret that their very last conversation had been an angry quarrel was worse. He would carry these emotions with him for a long time and it would be many years before he would be able to forgive himself or even accept that he had truly played no role in his father's death.

Not far from the Crown hotel, James and Sidney Parker were joined by Lord Babington, Miss Denham, and a young lady he had never seen before who turned out to be Lord Babington's sister, Lady Augusta Babington. Mr. Parker made the introductions and James bowed to them politely.

James had been present at the midsummer ball when Sir Edward Denham had caused that reprehensible scene humiliating his step-sister in public. In the week since that eventful night, the entire town had been abuzz with speculation. However, most of the scandalous rumours and stories had been overshadowed by the fire, the burning down of the terrace and the news of his own father's death.

He observed Miss Esther Denham now, her arm threaded through Lord Babington's. She seemed as haughty and disdainful as ever, but he detected a sense of unease in her as her eyes darted around the street and the people milling around. She was evidently not as impervious to society's opinion as she portrayed herself to be even if the news of her engagement to Lord Babington had spread during the past week.

Despite being a peer of the realm, Lord Babington had a far easier and more jovial demeanour with people across social stations than his intended. He exhibited none of the reserve of the upper class as he conversed with James, expressing his condolences on his father's death and asking about his plans for the future.

James watched and listened, bemused, as Mr. Parker informed Lord Babington about James's situation, showing himself to be far less taciturn than he had behaved so far. It was clear there was a very deep friendship and respect between the two men. Along with Miss Heywood's affection and regard for the man, it spoke highly of Mr. Parker's true character.

James was even more surprised when Lord Babington voiced his support for his future endeavours and endorsed Burton & Hardwick, the London architecture firm that had offered him the apprenticeship.

"My family has used their services for many years. My grandfather once employed them to carry out extensive renovations at Babington House in London," he said.

James's head was swimming. He could understand Mr. Sidney Parker offering help out of guilt (not only about his father's death but also about Miss Heywood because he evidently knew James had feelings for her). But he could not understand why Lord Babington would do the same. It was a very powerful connection to have and he was not sure what he had done to deserve it, nor did he know if it came with any expectations or conditions attached. Nevertheless, a man like him could not — dare not — rebuff such a generous gesture from a peer of the realm and James thanked him sincerely.

All things considered, it felt as if the decision about his future was being made for him…

Meanwhile, Lady Augusta Babington was trying very hard not to stare at the young man to whom she had just been introduced. It was not just that he was the handsomest young man she had met. Despite being a foreman, he was impeccably well spoken and well mannered, and nothing like any of the men with whom she was forced to interact as part of the beau monde. The men she was acquainted with — with the exception of a very few — were only interested in frivolous pursuits like dalliances, parties, balls, horses, and in spending time at their clubs. And for some of them, in trying to court her with the hope of marrying her to gain access to the Babington wealth and influence.

Augusta had no interest in shallow, vain men who often behaved as though they possessed just a single brain among a dozen of them. It was why she had dozens of gowns she had never worn to parties and balls she never attended (much to her mother's exasperation), preferring instead to spend her time at home in London or at Beaulieu Park, buried in a book in the extensive Babington libraries.

But Mr. Stringer conversed with her brother and Sidney with ease, answering their questions and displaying an ambition, sincerity, and work ethic she had not seen in anyone other than these two men, which intrigued her.

Even more distracting was the way the two halves of Mr. Stringer's coat jacket had slid open. As Augusta tried not to stare at the way his waistcoat stretched across his broad chest, she caught a glimpse of a small book tucked away in his inner pocket, which intrigued her even further.

Augusta had to force herself to look away and averted her gaze, only to catch Sidney watching her. His eyes flicked from her to Mr. Stringer and back, a frown creasing his forehead.

She raised her eyebrows and stared right back. Sidney was one of the best men she knew, and truly like an older brother to her along with her own and Crowe. But she did not need him to act like a protective and meddling older sibling, or to set off the same reaction in her own brother. Both men had enough to deal with as it is and besides, she had no intention of letting them dictate her thoughts and actions.

Sidney sighed and shot a look skyward. He had noticed Augusta's fascination with James Stringer the minute they were introduced. It was an unexpected development, especially considering that Babbers had recently told him that she had not shown interest in any gentleman so far. He wondered if he needed to warn Babbers, but common sense — and the thought of what Charlotte would have to say if he acted like an overbearing brute — made him decide otherwise.

Just a couple of nights ago, Charlotte had explained to him how women had little power when it came to their life's decisions, being at the mercy of their husbands, fathers, brothers, or guardians. He had agreed wholeheartedly with her view and promised himself that she would never be deprived of the right to make her own choices.

It would then be hypocritical of him to interfere in Augusta's matters, especially as her decisions were none of his business anyway.

He would let the Babington siblings deal with the matter between themselves.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Sidney parted from Babington, Ms. Denham, Lady Augusta, and James Stringer and made his way back to Trafalgar House. He returned to find that Arthur and Matthew Abbott had made good progress with Tom's papers; another day or so and the papers would be sorted, and Mr. Abbott would have everything he needed to take back with him to London.

Sidney and Arthur left him alone in Tom's study and retired to the living room. After his long, exhausting, and oft-times exasperating day, Sidney practically fell into a chair, eagerly accepting the brimming glass of drink that his younger brother brought him. For once, he had no complaint about Arthur's excessive fondness for wine.

After Arthur seated himself with his own generously filled glass, Sidney recounted the events of the day, especially the living arrangements Dr. Fuchs had recommended with regards to Tom.

"I have asked Mrs. Hillier to borrow staff from Trafalgar House to finish setting up our old home." Sidney downed a huge gulp of his drink. "It should not take her more than a couple of days to have the place ready for Tom to move in. That is, if Mary and yourself and Diana approve of this course of action. Once I receive Mary's approval, I shall head straight to London from Willingden and bring Tom back and settle him in."

He looked up from where he had been staring into his glass of dark red liquid as he spoke, only to find his younger brother observing him with an entirely too knowing a look. "What?"

"You don't want Tom to move into Parker House," Arthur said shrewdly.

"Do not be absurd. Of course I have no objection to him living there."

"But you'd rather he did not. In fact, I'd wager you've long known exactly what you want to do with Parker House. Until Dr. Fuchs' recommendation put a spoke in your plans."

Sidney wondered when he had become utterly transparent to his brother. Or when his brother had become so wise. Still, the fact remained: "Tom needs the house."

"Tom needs a house, Sidney. A suitably positioned house that fulfils Dr. Fuchs' requirements for his health. It does not have to be the very one you were planning to make your home with Miss Heywood. It is as you said, remember? None of us needs to be sacrificed at the altar of Tom's ambitions."

"Well then. You're a veritable fount of wisdom, brother," Sidney muttered a moment later, only half sardonically. He finished his drink and set the glass down on the side table. "So, what do you suggest we do with Tom? Moving him to Brighton is out of the question; it would only give him more wild and untenable ideas that he would want to implement in Sanditon. And I'm afraid even the suggestion of Brinshore — with its "insalubrious air" and "brackish water" — might cause him to have a fit of hysterics. Or erupt into hives."

Arthur let out a belly laugh at that. "One is almost tempted to do it," he jested, making Sidney laugh out loud as well.

"I believe I may well have a solution after all." At Sidney's raised eyebrow, Arthur explained, "When Diana was looking for lodgings for us earlier this summer, she came across Coral Cottage, the place owned by the Bartons up the coast."

He went on to describe the cottage Diana had seen but quickly concluded was unsuitable for her and Arthur's requirements. It was secluded and at a fair distance from town, far away enough that one would have to take a carriage to travel to and from there. This put it well away from the immediate hustle and bustle of all the activity in the town centre and its environs. However, it was too far away for Diana and Arthur to walk, and anyone who knew them knew they viewed any form of physical exertion as anathema, and preferred to be within ten paces of a doctor. Yet, located just off the beach, Coral Cottage was perfectly placed to suit Tom's requirements of bracing sea air and a certain degree of isolation.

"I shall visit the Bartons tomorrow and secure the cottage for Tom," he assured Sidney.

"Thank you, Arthur." There was a wealth of relief and gratitude in Sidney's voice.

"You should focus on your visit to Willingden. After all, you have over a dozen Heywoods to impress!"

Sidney groaned. "Don't remind me!" He hunched forward in his chair and covered his face with his hands as all the nervousness he had pushed away all day came flooding right back. "What if her father refuses my suit?"

That was something Arthur had not considered and he floundered for a moment. "Uhh… Scotland?"

It was a solution Sidney had mulled himself. On the one hand, it would be wildly romantic. He pictured himself riding into Willingden on his horse, sweeping up Charlotte in front of him, and racing away to Gretna Green. On the other hand, Charlotte might perceive eloping with him as a ridiculous and scandalous idea and refuse to marry him because he was a dunderhead.

"Miss Heywood is of age," his brother reminded him, breaking into his thoughts. "Technically, she would not require her parents' consent."

"I know. But I should like to know I have it all the same. As would Charlotte." Sidney knew how important it was to her.

Nothing Arthur said worked to diminish Sidney's trepidation. So, he did the only thing that he knew might take his mind off it: he went off to the cove for some fresh air and bracing exercise.

After a refreshing tussle against the waves and immersing himself underwater to empty his mind of his clamorous thoughts, he dragged himself out of the water and dried off. As he pulled on his clothes, he spotted a small, round piece of sea glass glinting under the sand. It was the exact colour of Charlotte's eyes and he immediately reached for it, examining it for a moment, fascinated by the beauty in its frosted depths. He looked around and spotted a second identical one and a third. He pocketed them all and then spent the next half hour combing the small curve of sand, looking for more pretty stones and seashells for Charlotte's siblings.

Charlotte had once mentioned that none of her family had ever been to the seaside, and her sudden departure from Sanditon meant she had not had the time to collect any souvenirs to give to them either. Sidney would take some for her, and it would be like giving her siblings a little piece of their own of the seaside until they could see it for themselves when they visited Sanditon.

The time spent in solitude at the beach calmed him even more than his swim and he returned to Trafalgar House with some measure of peace, more hopeful of tackling that most herculean of tasks the next day.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Dinner that night was a lively affair, with Babington and his sister, who were staying at Trafalgar House, joining Sidney, Arthur, and Matthew Abbott. Georgiana was present too, having moved in for the night with a small trunk of her belongings to take to Willingden the next day.

Sidney watched, a little nervous as Lady Augusta quickly made friends with his ward. If the combination of Charlotte and Georgiana was troublesome enough, Georgiana and Augusta together were guaranteed to cause a healthy degree of havoc.

But they did not seem to be plotting anything against him, which was a relief since he knew they were well inclined to do so. In fact, from the snippets of their conversation that Sidney overheard from his seat two places away from them at the table, Augusta seemed to be telling Georgiana that her brother had been present when they had learnt of the threat against her and certainly thought it should be taken seriously.

When Sidney caught Augusta's eye, he shot her a grateful glance, silently thanking her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The next morning, Sidney and Georgiana left for Willingden after a quick breakfast. While Charlotte's village was nearer to Sanditon than London, it would still be a long journey. They made only a couple of short stops to change horses and a slightly longer one for lunch at a roadside inn near, but were on the road for a good portion of the day. Neither ward nor guardian were very inclined to converse and so left each other to their thoughts during the journey.

Sidney distracted himself by making tentative plans and mental lists of all the tasks that would need to be done over the upcoming days. Everything depended on how Charlotte's parents received him and how long he would stay in Willingden. If things went well, he would have several tasks to accomplish when he proceeded thence to London. The most fraught of which would be bringing Tom back to Sanditon and installing him in Coral Cottage while explaining to him that he was banned from the town itself.

Just the mere thought of it threatened to bring on a headache, so Sidney chose not to dwell on it further. He was thankful Arthur had volunteered to deal with the matter of procuring the cottage for Tom, a matter his brother foresaw no problems with since he knew the Bartons had not let it out to any other visitors in Sanditon this summer.

Thinking of Arthur brought to mind the affinity Sidney had noticed between him and Mr. Matthew Abbott. They were very friendly and comfortable with each other, which he had marked after they had been introduced at the meeting at Babbers' house in London. But he had observed the way they behaved with each other at Trafalgar House, and ascertained that there was an undercurrent of something else too. Something more than just friendship.

Sidney had never been particularly close to his younger brother, not even when they were children. The nearly six years' age difference between them meant Arthur had simply been too young to do anything more than reluctantly tag after his nearest older sibling. Even as a small child, before he allowed Diana to coddle and cosset him into believing he was of delicate health and indulge his various imaginary maladies, he had been more inclined to stay indoors by the fire. While Sidney had ever been a boy's boy who loved spending time outdoors and enjoyed nothing so much as a dip in the sea or in the river that flowed at the bottom of the garden of Parker House.

In fact, this summer might be the longest the two brothers were spending time together since they were boys.

Arthur had been just shy of fourteen when Sidney had left for Antigua and they had corresponded only sporadically during his years abroad. Which meant that by the time Sidney returned to England nearly eight years later, the two younger Parker brothers hardly knew each other.

The hours passed and the countryside continued to roll by outside Sidney's window as he mulled over the subject of his younger brother.

In the two years since his return, Sidney had not seen Arthur in the company of many women, never mind any particular woman unless one counted Diana — and she did not count. Neither had he known Mary to try and set Arthur up with any young lady like she had tried to do with Sidney.

Some of the comments Arthur had made gave pause too — about marriage not being his style of things because he wouldn't have the faintest idea how to go about it, and how he did not really know how ladies worked and so had proclaimed himself a lifelong bachelor.

Sidney was, of course, well aware that there were men who preferred the company of other men in the way a man usually preferred the charms of a woman. Just as there were women who similarly preferred other women instead of men. But he did not judge them. He had never subscribed to society's decree that such inclinations were sinful and wrong in the eyes of god. After the horrors he had witnessed and experienced in Antigua, he felt that if there was a god who allowed such atrocities to exist, then surely he could not object to two people finding love even if they were of the same sex.

But if such were Arthur's proclivities, he had to be very careful. Buggery was considered criminal and the laws in Britain were severe for men of such sexual leanings.

No one would be happier than Sidney if Arthur found happiness with someone who loved and valued him for who he was. It would be good for him to have a life of his own, away from Diana's smothering affection. And Matthew Abbott certainly seemed to be a good and sensible sort of man. But he appeared to be far more experienced than Arthur and while Sidney did not want to make assumptions, he was not sure his brother even understood his own inclinations. He did not want Arthur to get hurt and vowed to keep an eye on Matthew Abbott until he was sure the man had his brother's best interests at heart.

Sidney was brought out of his musings when the carriage slowed on the road and took a turn south into a narrow lane. His heart quickened as his mind seemed to instinctively know that Willingden and his beloved were not far now.

A cooling breeze rippled through the fields of corn and barley behind the thick hedges that bordered both sides of the lane as the carriage rumbled on through it. It wound on for two or three miles, taking them deeper and deeper into the rural heartland before it rounded the curve, revealing the tiny village of Willingden. They passed a couple of small cottages as they approached the little village square. The church, the vicarage, a row of shops — the general store, the butcher's, the bakery — and an inn and a small pub occupied three sides of the square, while a common lined the fourth. Small cottages dotted the land surrounding the central space, set in neat gardens that gave way to fields.

It was a typical quiet rural English backwater, except Sidney's eyes devoured every aspect of it, agog with curiosity. This was where Charlotte was born and had grown up, where she spent her entire life. This was her world before she came to Sanditon and he wanted to see the place that had shaped the woman he was going to marry.

Narrower lanes branched off from the corners of the square; a quick hail of enquiry by his driver towards the men lounging outside the farrier's gave them the direction of Heywood Hall. About a quarter of an hour later, after driving through yet another country lane, they were rolling over a stone bridge across a small river that tumbled and burbled away. They finally arrived in a large courtyard and the carriage rumbled to a stop, gravel crunching under the wheels and the horses' hooves.

As Sidney disembarked from the carriage, adjusting his top hat on his head and helping Georgiana out, he was confronted by a small mob of dark haired children of assorted ages and sizes who bore a startling degree of resemblance to Charlotte.

A small child of about five years old — the likeness to Charlotte so stark that he was certain this was what Charlotte must have looked like as a child — eyed Georgiana in fascination, but seemed to set it aside for the present in favour of interrogating him.

His enchantment was complete when she marched up to him and demanded: "Are you Mr. Sidney Pawker?", saying his name exactly as Charlotte had done when she had imitated him on the main street in Sanditon the day she had spent chaperoning Georgiana and Otis's unauthorised picnic.

Georgiana, clearly remembering the same moment and seeing the child's resemblance to Charlotte, tried to smother a smile and looked like Christmas had come early.

Just then, three little blonde heads shot around the corner of the house and headed towards him like bullets, screaming "Uncle Sidney!" "Uncle Sinney!"

They slammed into him, hugging him at the same time and almost tackling him to the ground with their little arms around his knees and thighs. He managed to keep his balance and bent down to hug them as the little Charlotte-lookalike watched on, an adorably suspicious frown on her little round face.

"I am," he answered her question as he extricated himself from his nephew and nieces' embrace and bowed to her. "Mr. Sidney Pawker at your service, ma'am."

Alicia, Jenny, and Henry giggled at his formal declaration while the child pouted even more, unsure if she was being mocked.

"Emma."

A deep, firm voice made the little poppet turn and Sidney straightened to find more people had appeared in the front courtyard. A couple of strapping young men with Charlotte's signature chestnut curls flanked the mob of siblings, eyeing him with fascination and amusement. Crowe appeared from around the same corner of the house that his nephew and nieces had run around, sporting a white bandage around his forehead which made Sidney raise a brow.

But his attention was mostly taken up by the distinguished looking older man and handsome looking older woman standing along with Mary. Charlotte's parents.

Sidney swallowed hard and bowed, hoping desperately to make a good impression. His insides were writhing like he had swallowed a basket of eels. He hoped his smile was not a grimace. He could not tell because her parents watched him inscrutably, giving nothing away.

He did not know what made him look up but he did, to the second floor of the house, and saw Charlotte leaning out of the window, a delighted and dazzling full smile lighting up her gorgeous face. His heart leapt in his chest and everything else around him faded. He found himself smiling back, uncaring that he might be grinning like a fool in love. He was united with his beloved Charlotte once more and nothing else mattered.


[*] A reference to an incident in the prequel fic "A midsummer night's proposal". Upon seeing the terrace up in flames on the night of the Midsummer ball, a distraught and guilty Tom disappears from the scene even as Sidney and Charlotte lead the rest of the townspeople in putting out the fire.


Thank you for reading! Leave a review, let me know what you think!


An updated list of minor original characters that have made an appearance so far, or will do so soon (including the names of all of Charlotte's siblings):

(I've tried to list them in the order in which they appear. If you do see a name I have missed out, do let me know!)

• Mrs. Mullins – housekeeper at No. 7 Bedford Place

• Mr. Cartwright – Sidney's man of business

• Mr. Wetherby – Sidney's accountant

• Merridew – butler at No. 7 Bedford Place

• Martin Blake – Mary's younger brother

• Lady Harper – Lady Susan attended a ball given by her the evening before she met Charlotte in London

• Eliza Campion's burly footman (Scroggs)

• Morgan – Sidney's valet and general manservant

• Lady Wortley – a member of London society

• Bertram Chudleigh – a member of London society

• Miss Althea Fowler – attended the Sanditon regatta

• Miss Alice Donwell – attended the Sanditon regatta; Mrs Campion was rude to her for wearing a pelisse similar to her own

• Lady Celia Babington – Lord Babington's mother

• Mr. Matthew and his sister Miss Penelope Abbott – Lady Susan and Lord Babington's financial advisors

• Mr. Robert White – Mr Campion's nephew, died unexpectedly

• Mrs. Isabella Huxley – Mr Campion's niece

• Mr. Richard Huxley – Mrs. Isabella Huxley's husband, current president of Campion Industries

• Welham – butler at Lord Babington's London house

• Lady Hammond – a member of London society whose dinner party Mrs. Campion was supposed to attend but had to cancel

• Hughes – footman at Lord Babington's London house

• Lord Rupert Melrose – Lord Babington's distant, very rich cousin

• Lady Grasmere – Lord Grasmere's wife, aunt of Lady Susan's late husband

• Lord Ashbourne – works at Whitehall, investigates sensitive financial matters for the Crown

• Miss Cassandra Reynolds – governess who works at Mrs. Isabella Huxley's house, is assisting Lord Ashbourne and Martin Blake in the investigation into Campion Industries' business malpractices

• Lady Melrose – Lord Melrose's wife, mentioned in Ch. 14

• Mr. and Mrs. Hillier – caretaker and housekeeper respectively at Parker House in Sanditon; Mrs. Mullins and Mrs. Hillier are sisters

• Charlotte's siblings: Alison (nearly 20 years old), Marcus (nearly 18), William (16), Anne & Jane (twins - 14), Harry (13), Nicholas & Lucas (twins - 11), Sophia (8), Ben & Emma (twins - 5 years old)