The doctor, a short, rotund German named Dr. Fuchs, had been found. He was now performing a cursory examination of Charlotte's injuries. Mary Parker knelt next to her, stroking her head gently, trying to keep her as calm as possible as the doctor pushed and prodded.
Alexander stood a few steps away, watching the proceedings. He held a crying Augusta in his arms. Belatedly he realized he had forgotten all about his niece, and asked Georgiana Lambe to find her when Charlotte begged him once again not to leave her. His poor dear girl had been all alone downstairs with no one she knew or recognized. Upon seeing him, Augusta had been so thrilled she flew into his arms. Then she noticed Charlotte lying on the floor and cried out in shock. Now she had her arms about his waist, her head resting against his shoulder. He rested his head against hers and held her tightly.
It felt good and right to hold his niece and offer her comfort. He thought back to the days when her parents had just died. He had not really known Augusta very well but even if he had, he was so stiff and reserved he would not have been able to give her what she needed. Charlotte's influence was the reason he was able to help his niece tonight.
"Will Miss Heywood be all right, Uncle? Who would want to hurt her? I do not understand!"
"We will have to wait for the doctor's assessment, my dear. As for who hurt her, it was Colonel Lennox. Charlotte has not said why. She may not know."
Augusta stopped her sniffling. She lifted her head and looked at him curiously for a moment. "Why did you call her Charlotte? Why do you look so anguished?"
He paused to consider what to answer. Augusta was not of age, but she was not a child. In some cases, she would be a wife already. Indeed her own mother married at an age younger than his niece was now. Taking her hands in his, he gently guided her away from Charlotte and the doctor, so they could speak and not disturb anyone.
"Augusta, did you hear the screams earlier?"
"Yes, it was very unexpected. The room went silent, then people started talking about Charlotte."
"Through no fault of her own, Charlotte's reputation is ruined. The only way a woman survives that ruination is if she hides from the world, or marries. I offered my hand in marriage to Charlotte and she accepted. She could change her mind, a woman can end an engagement. She was in much pain when she agreed, but if she does not rescind her acceptance, she will be my wife."
Honestly, he had no idea how he had even managed to say the words. All he knew was the horror he felt when her sister said their father would take Charlotte away and make her marry this Ralph, whomever he was. Knowing Charlotte was in the world and married to someone other than him scared him far more than his fears of her learning the truth about him, and what she would think of him after that. It was selfish of him to have offered to marry her, knowing he could never make her happy, but he could not help himself.
He was not surprised she had accepted. Charlotte did not have independent funds to support herself if she did not marry. With a ruined reputation, regardless of fault, she would have a hard time finding work of any kind. Her parents would likely ask her to leave her home, she was not the only unmarried daughter. She really had little choice but to accept his proposal.
Did Charlotte care for him at all? He wondered if she even liked him. They had shared a very few moments he could call tender. Most of their interactions he knew had frustrated her. Earlier today he had been particularly rude to her, telling her she had no right to an explanation of his behavior at the garden party. He had stormed out of the schoolroom, angry at Lennox, disgusted with himself for treating Charlotte so poorly. He did not want to hurt her. He did not want to be a cruel, selfish brute. That was his father, not himself. When she came to see him in the afternoon, he took the opportunity for a second, sincere, attempt to express his regrets about his behavior. Thankfully, she had accepted his apology.
"You are in love with Charlotte, aren't you, Uncle?" It was more a statement than a question.
"Augusta, stop," he protested. How could she possibly know all that was in his heart for Charlotte?
"Leo and I have discussed it. It is the only explanation that makes sense. Why else would you do what you are doing? You have been more attentive to us and engaged more in the world than you have done since I came to Heyrick Park. And that all began when Charlotte became our governess."
"Please stop, Augusta, now is not the time."
She sighed, and rested her head against him once more. "You are right, Uncle. For now, I will stop. But I do say that if Charlotte does recover and becomes your wife, Leo and I will be so very, very happy."
Alexander patted his niece on the back, but did not respond. His girls would be happy with Charlotte, she was wonderful with them. As for himself, he could not be truly happy, ever. How could he be, knowing he had failed Lucy, and would likely fail with Charlotte as well?
Perhaps some small measure of contentment might be all he could hope for, if he was very, very lucky.
Mary Parker desperately needed to go somewhere, all by herself, and have a good, long cry.
Then she needed to sleep, for hours and hours and hours.
But she could not do any of that, not yet tonight, and not tomorrow or the following day, either. There was too much that had to be done, too many people to wrangle. Too many things to worry about.
At least they were finally heading home from the ball, so that Dr. Fuchs could continue his examination of Charlotte's injuries.
She and Tom and Arthur had been standing in silence out of the way of the dancing, mulling over what was to be done with the debts to the shopkeepers Colonel Lennox was refusing to pay. Tom owed Lennox one hundred pounds. What was due to the merchants was well over five hundred pounds! She did not want to take the money from the children's accounts, but what else could be done if the military refused to pay? They needed cash quickly – in two days - so they could not wait to sell any possessions in Trafalgar House. The businesses could not be ruined, the community would suffer greatly if the merchants had to close their doors.
Then they, along with everyone else on the dance floor, heard the screaming, even over the orchestra and the buzz of many conversations.
"Tom, that was Alison calling for Charlotte! Where are they?" she had asked, terrified. What was happening?
"I thought I saw Charlotte go upstairs earlier," Arthur replied, looking grim. "We must find them quickly."
She had bullishly pushed through the startled crowd to get to the stairs, Tom and Arthur in tow. Then Georgiana had appeared, running, almost tripping in her haste to get to them.
Mary could hardly believe the evidence of her own eyes when she stepped onto the balcony and saw her dear friend, her sister of the heart, sprawled on the cold marble floor, with blood on her face. She had wanted to collapse and sob, but she could not. "Charlotte," she had cried, rushing to her.
The presence of Mr. Colbourne was very unexpected, the look of anguish on his face was extremely confusing and disturbing. He was Charlotte's employer! He should not have any kind of feelings for her! But Mr. Colbourne was not the villain of the piece.
No indeed, Colonel Lennox had that distinct honor.
Why? What had occurred to make him such a monster? It was awful enough the way he had manipulated and trapped Tom with a game of dice, the way he had, according to Tom, so casually dismissed the need to pay for what he had purchased from the merchants. Now he had beaten Charlotte! If the army ignored the entreaties from the merchants in Ramsgate, would they also ignore this assault on a young gentlewoman? Were there other women who had suffered injury similar to Charlotte's at the hands of Colonel Lennox? Could they ever get justice for what Charlotte was suffering?
Tom and Arthur left to find Dr. Fuchs, but not before distressing Alison with the knowledge that Charlotte's reputation was ruined.
Then the second most surprising, and distressing event of the night occurred.
Mr. Alexander Colbourne offered Charlotte his hand in marriage – and she accepted!
Mary had knelt next to Charlotte's head, stroking her head to help calm her while the doctor had made a cursory examination. She tried to focus on what was occurring with Dr. Fuchs, but more thoughts and worries intruded, this time about the intentions of a man who had been a recluse on his estate for several years, about whom much was speculated but very little actually known.
She wondered why he had offered his hand, what his intentions were. Mary knew from Charlotte's comments that Mr. Colbourne was a difficult man to know, frustrating, sometimes cold and arrogant, sometimes kind and warm to his girls. Mary had hoped to have some conversation with the man at Lady Denham's garden party, in order to get to know him a bit, but that had not been possible. From the look of pain and despair on his face, she did not think it was only gallantry that motivated his offer.
Was it lust? Was it love? What was it?
She was not surprised that Charlotte accepted the offer, but the girl was in serious pain at the time. Had she been in her right mind? Would she, when her pain was managed and she had begun to heal, rescind her acceptance? If she did, what would Charlotte do then?
Now Mary sat in the Parker carriage, next to Charlotte, with Dr. Fuchs and Mr. Colbourne across from them, on their way to Trafalgar House so the doctor could continue his exam. Alison, Georgiana, and Miss Markham were following in the Colbourne carriage with Arthur, who would return to the ball to help Tom host.
The ball must go on, for the sake of Sanditon's fortunes, and their own.
"Charlotte," she said softly, touching the young woman's hand. "Did Colonel Lennox say anything to you? Do you know why he did what he did?" She winced, watching as Charlotte grimaced in pain.
"He proposed," Charlotte whispered hoarsely, her eyes closed. "I said no. He – he called me a servant. Then he started hitting me."
"Charlotte, I am so very very sorry." She could barely speak, her words choked by grief. "I promoted him to you for weeks, and all this time he - he was - a brute! A demon!"
"Mrs. Parker, it is not your fault," Mr. Colbourne spoke up gently. "You must not blame yourself. You are a good, kind woman. You could not have known Colonel Lennox's true nature." Mary saw his face soften, looking at Charlotte with what she could only describe as longing and tenderness. "You must not worry about him, Charlotte. He will be found, and he will face justice. I will never allow him to hurt you or anyone ever again. You have my word."
With those words, Mary realized it was more than gallantry that motivated Mr. Colbourne to offer his hand to Charlotte. There was no mistaking that he cared for her, deeply. He may very well be in love with her.
She would not press her friend, not now or anytime soon, but Mary could not help wondering if Charlotte felt for this man what he apparently felt for her.
