Perhaps it is fitting that our story should begin with a carriage ride, as did our last. This time, all was safely traveled. Charlotte sat opposite her three daughters in the coach, her son sleeping beside her. The sun had not yet risen, and she was determined to make it to Sanditon by midday or sooner. They had spent the last two days traveling from their ancestral seat in Yorkshire to their London townhome, Leyburn House, where they spent a day with cousins and other friends who lived in town. Charlotte liked Leyburn House, but vastly preferred their medieval country estate, Middlesmoor Abbey. But both felt equally empty without James. He'd only been gone a year, but she felt the loss keenly every day. Though her children were rather brave, she knew they missed their father as well. Junia was constantly sketching his likeness from portraits, and Theresa was constantly in their little chapel on the estate, lighting candles and praying for her dear Papa.
Charlotte felt Anthony slump against the puffed sleeve of her traveling habit, and moved her arm to allow her first born to snuggle in close to her. Though many boys his age were testing their wings, she was grateful her little "Anty" was still a little boy in this respect. Theresa looked over and rolled her eyes at the sight and Charlotte gave her a wink. Having grown up with brothers who were the apple of their mother's eye herself, Charlotte knew what Theresa was thinking: Mama's favorite. But Theresa had her favorite too, and that was little eight year old Helen who's small curly head rested upon her sister's lap and she dozed. On the other side of Helen, Junia stared out the window as the streets of London gave way to country lanes. Her daughters had never been further south than London before, and even then they made but two or three visits a year. Leyburn House was the full time residence of Charlotte's mother-in-law, who detested the countryside. Therefore, the Earl and Countess only visited London at holidays or for a few weeks of the social season, which was an arrangement that suited everyone. Charlotte loved living in Yorkshire, as did James. They often went to the coast at Scarborough, where they owned a small cottage in the dunes, and lived like they weren't nobility. Her children had been educated by her and her husband, and she'd never employed a governess. Though she and her brood were as close as could be, she was nervous about this trip to Sanditon. James had known of her first love, Sidney Parker, but the children did not completely understand why they must travel so far south to see old friends of their Mama's they had never met. Junia reminded her mother of this fact about an hour into the carriage ride.
"I simply don't understand why we have to go all this way to spend a few weeks with strangers. I'd rather be in London with my cousins, or at Scarborough." She pouted.
"Junia, I've told you that the Denhams will be there. You remember them from our Christmas party a few years ago? The lovely lady with the red hair who sang to you?"
"Mama you can hardly expect four children to be excited at that." Theresa replied, with a pointed look that was so like Charlotte at that age.
"Perhaps. But Lady Esther has boys and girls around your ages, and I know lots of my old friends there will have children too. And we have one another."
Theresa smiled, the knowledge of her siblings and mother was comforting to her. There was no family in the world so agreeable, she thought.
"Who is getting married again?" Junia asked.
"Miss Jenny Parker, her parents were the ones I lived with at Sanditon when I was but twenty years of age. She was younger than Helen then. To be honest, I'm not quite sure why Mrs. Parker invited me, but I'm delighted to see such old friends." Charlotte stopped herself when she noticed her voice went into a markedly wistful tone. It didn't escape Theresa or Junia's notice, and both cocked an eyebrow at their mother.
"I sense a story there Mama. What else happened in Sanditon all those years ago?" Her eldest daughter asked.
"Never you mind, Tere." Charlotte gave her daughter a look that told her to drop the subject. Of course, she knew this would only heighten her daughters' curiosity.
Theresa and Junia were Heywood all over; inquisitive and perceptive. They often said exactly what they were thinking, to a fault. Helen and Anthony were more like their father, quiet and reserved, but the funniest and most loving people in the room. Charlotte felt a pang in her chest when she thought of James. But after a year of mourning, she knew she must begin to find joy again. Which is why on the day Mary's invitation, shortly followed by Esther's letter, came to Middlesmoor, Charlotte had immediately set her maid to packing her summer things, and set about the childrens' herself.
Attending a summer wedding, followed by a fortnight's stay at Sanditon House was precisely the sort of occasion to boost her spirits. But there was one thing she was worried about: what she would do when she saw Sidney Parker. It had been many years since they last met, and Charlotte had loved her husband James with her whole heart. But old wounds had a way of stinging when one least expected it, and Charlotte's tender heart was all too aware of the gravity of her feelings.
Miles away, Sidney Parker sat in a rowboat, completely unaware of Charlotte's impending arrival. It had been his idea to take the Parker family on a rowing outing the day before Jenny's wedding, and as his own daughters were bridesmaids, everyone was having a good laugh. Tom and Diana had been knocked overboard at least twice, but thankfully all Parkers could swim, and they were all good sports. At some point, the rowing turned into a water fight between the cousins, after which Sidney and Mary, as the only dry adults in attendance, stole away in their own boat.
"Marianne! I mean Annabella! Don't do that to your cousin's petticoat. I owe Tom a fortune for the bonnets you two lit on fire last month." Sidney shouted at his daughters a few yards away, who were attempting to make a sail out of Jenny's petticoat. It was highly unladylike, and he knew his brother would send him a bill for the garment.
"I wonder how you ever keep their names straight when both of them have "Anne" in them. Not to mention your own sister-in-law is named Mary. Doesn't it get confusing Sidney?" Mary asked him.
Sidney laughed, "You have no idea how many times that argument was had when they were babies. I wanted a Mary, named after you, and an Isabella after my mother. But Eliza insisted."
"I'm sorry Sidney, I don't mean to make you speak of her when you do not wish to." Mary cast her eyes down.
"Oh Mary, I don't care. It's been ten years since she ran off with that Russian chap, and eight since she died. The girls don't even remember her, and I hardly remember her either."
"As long as you are happy, brother." Mary gave him a direct look.
"Happy as I can be. The girls keep me busy, as does Parliament. Though I confess I'd rather spend less time in London and more down here." Sidney rowed them up to shore, helping Mary out of the boat. They chatted on shore while waiting for the rest of their family to catch up.
"Have you taken note of any of the belles this season?" Mary asked.
"You want to know if I'm considering remarrying. Just say it outright Mary, goodness."
"No need to get testy with me, sir. I am the matriarch of this family." She said with a haughty tone, causing the two of them to laugh.
"I'm sorry, but no. I've been to a few balls and parties but I find that I have not the stomach to court a 20 year old heiress. Those days are far behind me. I'd rather be the best father to my girls that I can be."
"I just hope you don't give up on love, Sidney dear."
"Well unless Char-" Sidney began but stopped to pull his daughter's boat in from the shore.
Mary couldn't be certain, but she thought she knew what name was on Sidney's mind when he thought of love. Marianne and Annabella were clearly slaphappy after their swim in the river, and both jumped onto their father, their sopping wet hair and frocks dousing him. Tom ran up to Mary and followed his nieces' suit, swirling his wife around like a young bride and not the established matron she was.
"Oh, Tom Parker! Good heavens."
"Here comes the bride!" Jenny cried, and threw a whole bucketful onto her uncle Sidney and mother.
Marianne and Annabella laughed hysterically as their father attempted to chase them back into the water. Unfortunately they knocked into their Aunt Diana and sent her backwards into the river again.
"Alright, Parker family! Look at what you've done to poor Aunt Diana. I think that is quite enough for one afternoon. Let us stop by Sanditon House on our way back to town and see if Lady Babington will allow us to dry by her fires, and perhaps fetch Jenny a fresh petticoat." Mary decreed, wringing the water out of her hem.
The Parkers crested the hill above Sanditon House in time to see a coach arrive at the portico, and a well-dressed looking family exit. They couldn't make out any faces, nor did they recognize the crest upon the coach's door, and their curiosity was piqued.
"Aunt Mary do you know who that is?" Annabella asked.
"Oh no dear." Mary lied.
"I say, I know every family and crest that has made its way into our little town, and I have never seen that one before. Odd." Tom mused.
"I imagine some relation of Babingtons, or perhaps Esther's. Lord knows their families are unbelievably fertile." Sidney said dryly.
Diana smacked her brother in the arm for his rude comment.
"I suppose we will have to ask Lady B, won't we girls." Mary said, a conspiratorial glint in her eye.
"Indeed. Perhaps this is someone who can come to my wedding!" Jenny exclaimed.
"So long as they are English." Tom grumbled.
Sidney led the brood of Parkers to the front door of Sanditon House, and were let in by Jacoby, the butler. He led them into the library where Lord and Lady Babington were taking tea.
"Sidney, Tom, I wasn't expecting you!" Lord Babington said cheerfully.
"We apologize, Babington. Our daughters decided they wanted to swim in the river and we wondered if we could beg for a few minutes of hospitality until they dry off." Sidney replied.
"Well, why don't you stay for tea? I can send the girls upstairs to change into some of Ruth's things, we just received guests but they're resting until supper."
"We couldn't possibly impose that much on your hospitality, dear Es. Just a quick dry-off is what this lot needs." Mary replied. She did not want Sidney to catch wind of the Babington's guests too soon.
"At least allow us to send you home in the carriage." Lord Babington reasoned.
"Alright. Many thanks." Sidney intoned.
The two families chatted for a few minutes as dresses and trousers dried off in front of the warm library fire. From a distance, Mary heard a familiar laugh. She knew it was time to leave. As they boarded the Babington's carriage, she leaned out the window to ask,
"Oh Es, who are your guests?"
"The Earl of Leyburn and his family." Esther, ever the actress, responded. No one would ever know that the two wives were conspirators.
"The Earl of Leyburn? Do I know that name?" Tom mused as the carriage made its way to Trafalgar House.
"Catholic family from Yorkshire, I believe. Some of their distant relatives in my party in the House." Sidney responded.
"Know you the earl? Or perhaps the countess?" Mary asked, suddenly nervous that her plan was foiled.
"No. Never met the man, and if they are ever in town we do not frequent the same circles." Sidney replied ambivalently.
"Catholics, you said?" Jenny responded, looking to her father eagerly.
"You're not getting married in a papist ceremony Jenny." Tom said with thin lips.
"No, I know you've put your foot down about that Father, but perhaps we should invite this earl as a token of hospitality. I don't want the Shannons to feel so ostracized.
"Isn't it enough you're marrying an Irishman?" Tom grumbled.
"Tom." Mary said sharply.
"David is a good sort, Tom. Let us not get hung up on this matter." Diana pleaded.
"If all of London society can accept this union Father, it does not matter if he is Irish or American or anything else." Jenny said defensively.
"Yes my sweet." Tom said apologetically.
"Enough quarrels, we're home. Let us go to bed and rest for tomorrow with glad and loving hearts, please." Mary told her loved ones. With all of her and Esther's secret concocting, she needed the actual marriage and party to run smoothly.
The Parkers said their goodbyes and split ways to their respective homes, and back at Sanditon House, Charlotte roamed the halls, remembering a luncheon party so many years ago…