Oop, I disappeared for a few months! We are back and with some fresh inspiration. In this chapter we will meet Charlotte's formidable but loving mother-in-law, Mrs. Caroline Dryden. I'll variously refer to her as Caroline, Mrs. Dryden, or Grandmother, depending on who is speaking and in what context. Thus begins our period of separation for Sidlotte, but never fear, absence makes the heart grow fonder (and calls for LOVE LETTERS…!)
Thanks for your kind reviews in welcoming me back! Enjoy.
Charlotte's mother-in-law was a unique sort of woman, some might call her odd. Charlotte liked this about Mrs. Caroline Dryden, or Grandmother, as she was known to her children. It kept their visits to Leyburn House interesting.
One hallmark of Grandmother's entertaining was children at the dinner table in between the elderly, and insisting all her dinner guests, be they relations or new friends, appear in costume. Charlotte's first dinner at Grandmother's had been "Off With Her Head," a tribute to Catholic Martyrs of the English Reformation. Poor James had thought he'd lost his sweetheart, then a casual and unobservant Anglican, due to his mother's humorous zeal, but he thought wrong. Charlotte, with good humor and a quick needle had subverted Grandmother (when she still knew her only as Mrs. Dryden) and shown up as Anne Boleyn, complete with French hood and iconic "B" necklace.
"She's come as our doom! Bravo, Charlotte." Grandmother had laughed riotously.
Grandmother Dryden had grown up on the posh side of English Catholicism, kin to the Duke of Norfolk and the rest of the Howard family. She'd been raised in London, where she met the heir to the Earl of Leyburn, Lord Francis, and his cousin, Anthony Dryden, namesake of the grandson he would never meet. It was a ball, and her head was turned. She'd been courted by both, but instead of marrying the heir, she chose the spare. Lord Francis never married, having sworn that the son of Caroline Dryden, be he his son or Anthony's, would be the Earl of Leyburn.
Caroline, to her credit, spent the last years of Francis' life in an affectionate relationship with him. But she'd remained true to her husband in life and death.
Though during her marriage she was wife to the heir, and in her widowhood she was mother to the heir, Grandmother refused to live in Yorkshire. She conceded its beauty, its importance to her family, and its utility to England, but desired to keep her feet on the pavement of London rather than the moors of the north. Leyburn House in St. James's had been her domain for nearly forty years, and she proudly stood on the stoop as Charlotte and the children arrived.
"How dost thou sweet lord!" Grandmother cried out, "How do you pretty lady!" She bestowed kisses on the cheeks of her daughter-in-law and grandchildren.
"Is that a hint for tonight's theme?" Theresa said, bounding up the steps into Leyburn House.
"Shakespeare?" Junia echoed.
"Lady Leyburn you've done well educating my sweets. Yes, it's the Shakespeare Dinner, but not tonight. Tomorrow your cousins and all the usual folks will be joining us." Grandmother led the brood into her front hall.
"Thank you, Caroline. I confess I'm not ready for company quite yet after the past few weeks." Charlotte said as they all sat down in the drawing room.
"Mama's seen her old beau in Sanditon and has been acting odd the entire carriage ride here." Helen said, plopping onto the rug with a biscuit in one hand, petting her Grandmother's spaniel with the other.
"What?" Grandmother's head snapped to Charlotte.
"Helen.." Charlotte muttered.
"Charlotte, what is she talking about?" Grandmother pressed.
"Oh, Caroline, I wanted to speak with you about this privately, later."
Grandmother only nodded curtly and turned her attention to Anthony. Charlotte breathed a sigh of frustration and saw Theresa scolding Helen across the room.
"We don't just go spouting out our family's affairs at random, especially when you haven't been spoken to."
"But Grandmother IS our family!" Helen countered.
"Enough, both of you. Go unpack and take Junia with you." Charlotte interjected.
"Don't we have maids for that?" Junia whined.
"Now. Anthony, you too." Charlotte snapped, a hand to her forehead.
Her four petulant children hung their heads, curtsied and bowed, and left the room.
"It's not often I see you speak harshly to them." Grandmother said, pouring two cups of tea.
"Sometimes I need to. James was a better disciplinarian than I, and they've picked up a few bad behaviors these past few weeks."
"How so? Your girls have always been honest."
"Perhaps, but not speaking out of turn like that. Or revealing personal matters unprompted. I'm sorry Caroline."
"Never mind that," Grandmother began, "Was she telling the truth?"
"Yes." Charlotte breathed.
"The same old beau who'd broken your heart before you met James?"
"How did you know?"
"I'm a woman, Charlotte. When I first saw you at the assembly where you met James, I knew you'd been nursing heartache. But after you'd been courting, I saw a woman in love again."
"It's hardly a tale one tells to their future mother-in-law." Charlotte joked.
"You can trust me, dear. You gave up your church and your family to join ours. The least I can offer is a listening ear."
"Well, as you recall I met James and your family in September. I'd spent the previous few months in Sanditon, living with a family called Parker. Mr. Tom Parker was in the process of turning Sanditon from fishing village to resort town, and his younger brother Sidney was often called upon to bail him out of his troubles. First we were adversaries, then allies, and then we fell in love. We were all but engaged when an accident set fire to Mr. Tom Parker's housing venture, which threatened to ruin him." Charlotte paused.
"And?" Her enthralled mother-in-law prompted.
"The only way out was to hurt us both. Sidney was obliged to engage himself to Mrs. Eliza Campion, a former sweetheart of his, who was considerably wealthy."
"I remember a Mr. Campion from my youth. Quite the fortune, yes." Caroline nodded.
"And I left. I never saw him again until a fortnight ago."
"I know you leave out considerable detail Charlotte, and I understand. But for some reason you decided to return? And find him married still?"
"Not quite. He too, is widowed."
"Ah."
"Yes."
"I confess I am disappointed in you. James has been gone only a year." Caroline stiffened, defensive of the memory of her only son.
"Caroline, you cannot think so poorly of me. I went to Sanditon to see Jenny Parker married, and assumed Eliza still lived. And you know I loved, I still love James with all my being."
"I know. I know." Caroline stood and began to pace the drawing room.
"I have given him permission to write to me. That is all." Charlotte desperately squeaked out.
"Hm. That is wise." Was all Grandmother could manage.
"Caroline, please. You've been in my shoes, you've loved again after you lost your husband. If you had the chance again would you have accepted Lord Francis?"
"That is entirely different, Charlotte."
"How?"
"Well, it just was. He was my husband's cousin. It would have broken my children to see me marry again." Caroline replied.
"It can't have been more painful than watching you and Francis love one another from a distance for nearly a decade, like we all did." Charlotte countered.
"Impossible."
"Ask your daughters. That first Christmas, when James and I became engaged. One night we sat around the fire, long after you had gone to bed. James and the girls all lamented the fact that you wouldn't let yourself give into love again."
"Be that as it may, it's too late for me now. But I hardly think at this point we are still talking about myself and Lord Francis."
"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked.
"You want my blessing." Caroline said simply.
"Of course." Charlotte replied.
"But you cannot convince yourself to give into love fully either."
At that moment, Grandmother's disapproval seemed to evaporate. The tables had been turned in their inquisition.
"I have only been a widow a year."
"You're seeking out obstacles; my approval being one of them."
"Caroline, did you hear a word I just said? I've spent the last few minutes trying to relate our situations. I want your permission to court again."
"I think if you were certain about this Sidney Parker, you wouldn't ask my permission at all." Grandmother had regained her calm and sat back down.
"I fear we are talking in such circles I can't make out who is in favor of what." Charlotte laughed lightly.
"I'm sorry for my hasty conclusion and confusion, my dear. Pray for guidance, consult your confessor, don't close your heart off. And I will only advise you if you want me to."
Charlotte stood from her seat, and crossed the room to give her mother-in-law a kiss on the cheek.
"I do fear that I am already falling in love with him all over again. Now that I've seen him as a father, through my own eyes as a mother." Charlotte whispered.
"Patience. All's well that ends well." Caroline smiled.
"You really are excited for the Shakespeare dinner aren't you?"
Later that night, after dinner had been served and her children tucked into bed in the nursery, Charlotte was beginning to turn down the covers in the bedroom she had always shared with James. It was the bedroom that rightfully belonged to the Earl, and someday soon she knew it would be turned over to Anthony. But for now, it was still hers. Hers and James's. On their way through to Sanditon a few weeks prior, she had only stayed long enough in the room for her head to touch the pillow to sleep and to dress hastily. It had been the first time she'd been back at Leyburn House since James' death, and she'd taken the precaution of not being swept up in her memories. Tonight she felt herself on the verge on that indulgence.
This was the room they'd honeymooned in. The wedding had taken place at Middlesmoor, but Charlotte, a country girl all her life, had wanted a cosmopolitan honeymoon. She wanted to see operas, palaces and art galleries, all the hallmarks of London life. If she poked around in this room, its drawers and bureaus, she might find relics of her youth.
Will I make such memories again? She thought.
Charlotte wondered if the honeymoon of a second marriage felt anything like the first, with its nerves and excitement and ample time spent in bed. If you'd asked Charlotte what operas she'd seen on that honeymoon, she could not tell you. But she could tell you any number of unsavory things she and James had done in this room, and countless others in Leyburn House. She blushed to think if her mother-in-law would look at the breakfast table the same if she knew about…
Charlotte shook her head, chasing away the naughty thoughts. Instead, she wondered if Sidney would write to her first, or if it was a ladies prerogative to initiate correspondence. Her own courtship with James had been a whirlwind, and fifteen years ago. There had been little time for methodical planning and strategy. Perhaps that was the key to start, stop thinking, and just begin.
Charlotte set a small writing desk across her lap in the bed. James had given her two such desks on their first anniversary; one for London and one at the Abbey. She liked to write her letters before bed, but having been heavily pregnant at the time, it pained her back to hunch over her desk, and therefore the writing desk for her bed was born. This was one thing that pained her heart; in any step with Sidney, a memory of James would be swift to follow.
She pulled a sheet of paper out and began to write.
Back in Sanditon, Sidney Parker sat before an empty piece of paper himself, pen and ink at the ready.
Opinion on love letters: spicy or sweet? Will Sidlotte be consumed by their passion in writing, or take their time with sweet nothings and endearments that were stolen from them long ago? Let me know :)