Author's very lengthy note:
Wow! Thank you for the insightful reviews and your thoughts on the new season. I love the way that Austen (and her derivatives, as we all know Sanditon has taken *many* liberties, lol) consistently ignites conversation long after she left this earth. As I'm sure it is very obvious, I am fascinated by religious and social history, particularly Catholicism in England (I am neither English, nor Catholic, to be clear!) and when researching some legal particulars, I remembered that this timeline coincides with the famed Oxford Movement, which revived the high church tradition in Anglicanism (sound boring? Maybe, but this academic and religious movement may very well bode well for our newlyweds…) A few of you have remarked on the way religion stands between these families and our happy couple, which is certainly frustrating! We just want true love, obstacles be damned! But, it was a reality of their world, and one that Jane Austen would have known well as a clergyman's daughter. Charlotte's in-laws would have been protective and defensive as social others, despite wealth and title! Ok, longest note ever. Back to the story!
The arrival of the esteemed Miss Georgiana Lambe in Sanditon was equal parts shock, delight, and relief among the assembled families. The day following her arrival, the superfluous family members returned to their homes and lives, namely Charlotte's in-laws, and Sidney's family save for his daughters, as well as Mary and Tom, who reopened Trafalgar House for a short while, attending to Sanditon business while they were there.
The shock came because nobody had seen hide nor hair of Georgiana since the previous Easter, when she'd sailed off on a grand tour of the East Indies. Not the typical tour of overseeing tea plantations and a wealthy woman's leisure, but a tour of work, justice, and mercy. For time had cooled Georgiana and Sidney's relationship, and upon reaching her majority, she endeavored to use her great wealth for the betterment of mankind. She'd journeyed to America, to support the Abolitionist societies, to the Caribbean from which she hailed, to Africa, and anywhere the natural rights of mankind were trod upon. Her next concern was the rule of the East India Company, which she was determined to see for herself. With Sidney's rising career in politics, they became natural allies. He, the titled and influential man with a strong voice in the House of Commons, and she, the natural born black daughter of a planter, with no husband to direct her activities, and a fortune that rivaled dukes. Each had something the other lacked, and they used it for their benefit, and the benefit of the lowly.
As for marriage? Georgiana laughed at the question whenever asked. Lovers, yes. Husbands? No.
"I'm but two and thirty," she would say, "I'm not old enough to be married."
Sidney's daughters loved when Georgiana came to visit between her travels, because she was cultured, glamorous, and took no direction from anyone, least of all their father. Sidney, for his part, appreciated Georgiana's presence with the girls, when she visited their minds were attuned to important things, they spoke with passion and knowledge, and while his former ward might inspire resistance, he respected when the girls would challenge him thoughtfully, rather than the trivial way they could act when only in London society.
In other words, when they acted less like their mother.
Their mother…
Sidney sat in his dressing room early one morning that next week. Charlotte still slept in his, or rather their bed. He smiled to himself when he'd arisen that morning, knowing that for the rest of his life, wherever they traveled, where he stayed, she would stay. Where he would go, she would go. His people would her people, and his God…well, that bit was yet to be worked out.
As he'd gone into his dressing room for the morning, without valet, he began to select his shirt and trousers, his cravat and stockings from the bureaus and drawers. They were his summer clothes, though it was January, he'd have to make do until they returned to town. Sitting before the looking glass where his razor, combs, and other elements of his morning toilet were arrayed on the table before him, Sidney's eyes fell to a collection of items that Eliza had gifted him as a wedding present. He didn't remember how they came to be in the Sanditon house, for most of their marriage had been spent in London, but here they were. Engraved with his initials and their wedding date. August 8, 1818.
Sidney sat back in his chair, and held the silver brush in his hand, turning it over, remembering the early days of his marriage. When Eliza, so triumphant, had insisted on combing through his hair the morning after their wedding, not quite a joyful and thankful bride, a touch possessive. She was happy in her own way, he supposed. But when he thought back on himself that very morning, all he felt was sickness. The day before had been pure torment, from the vows in the church, to their reception at Eliza's dower house, ending in their consummation. Sidney had never once thought himself a passive lover until that night, when the prospect of being joined to a woman brought more emotional pain than physical pleasure. And yet, it was his lot in life. He knew that if he did not find some way to seek happiness, to cope, he would do himself harm, and therefore harm Tom, Mary, and their dear children. It was the love of his family that kept him in his marriage in those first months.
And then, he had reached a contentment. The winter of 1819, and Eliza was expecting Annabella. The ice thawed between him and Eliza, more on his end than on hers. In her condition, they spent long evenings at home, with nothing but one another to entertain. She told him of her first marriage, he revealed his dealings in Antigua and Sanditon, but never mentioned his love for Charlotte. That was the one, sacred thing he kept from her. She made her assumptions, attempted to lead him into revelations, but he would not budge. Only twice did she ever see past the exterior on the subject.
It was February, 1819, and an unseasonably warm and sunny day. Sidney had gone for a walk in Hyde Park, hoping to find some buds to create a bouquet, a rush of romanticism in his heart. It was on this walk when he came across his dear friends, Lord and Lady Babington.
He approached them with a smile and outstretched hand. They'd been laughing and chatting as they walked, arm in arm, but as they saw him, their faces dropped and the couple shared an uneasy expression.
"Am I such a sorry sight for you both to see? Whatever is the matter?" Sidney asked when the three of them finally met.
"Lovely to see you, Sidney." Esther replied.
"It's been too long, dear chap." Her husband echoed.
Their performances were exceedingly poor, and Sidney was not fooled for a moment.
"Why don't we take a seat?" Esther offered, gesturing to a nearby bench off the side of the path.
The three settled themselves, and then Sidney could not bear it any longer.
"What is the matter?" He asked plainly.
"Ahem, well, you know Miss Heywood and Esther grew to become closer acquaintances in weeks preceding our marriage, and have remained in contact since Miss Heywood's removal from Sanditon?" Lord Babington quickly said, playing with his hands in nervous jitters.
"I did not as such, no." Sidney whispered in reply. It was the first time he'd heard talk of Charlotte that wasn't from Eliza's questioning.
"She's married, Sidney. This very week." Esther spit out.
"Married? Married to whom? To James Stringer?" Sidney choked on his words.
He was too busy staring off into the distance, he missed a look exchanged between husband and wife.
"I think it is best if you do not know any more than this. The past must be put to bed now, and George agrees with me." Esther said tenderly, resting her gloved hand upon Sidney's arm.
"Did she consent to this? It was not of her family's design?" Sidney asked.
"Yes, she consented." George answered.
"And, is she…Is she happy?"
Esther took a sharp intake of breath, and replied:
"I'm so so sorry Sidney, but she is the happiest bride I've seen. She is in love."
"I don't want to know. I don't want to know any more." He felt tears prick at his eyes.
"I'm terribly sorry, my friend. I'm sorry if we offended you with our attendance at her marriage."
"Why should you? You attended mine, and that certainly hurt her. Or, I thought it did." Sidney said with bitterness.
"Sidney, what a thing to say! You know it grieved her, but you cannot blame her for finding life elsewhere." Esther admonished him.
Inside, deep within, Sidney always told himself that his connection to Eliza was but a temporary thing. Even when the baby was confirmed to be on the way, he felt within himself that he had to wait just a little longer, and then he would be free to seek Charlotte and do right by her. The enormity, foolishness, and cruelty of this thought suddenly hit him, and he was overcome with the guilt of it.
"You are right. Thank you for informing me. Good day." Sidney stood and abruptly left the park.
Returning home, he let himself into the house, and then into the library, where he sank to his knees before the fire, and felt himself begin to weep. For what he had lost with Charlotte, for what he had with Eliza, and for their child he mentally forsook. It was then that Eliza came into the room and found him, seeing his face, the carriage of his body. She did not ask, she did not need to. Somehow she just knew, and despite her relief that this particular complication was never to be a threat to her again, she showed Sidney a rare bit of compassion. She held him while he cried. And they never spoke of Charlotte again, not for five years, until the night she left.
A knock came at his dressing room door, it shook him out of his memories. Sidney set the brush back upon the table.
"Dearest? Are you in there?" It was Charlotte's voice.
"Yes, come in." Sidney replied.
She opened the door and stepped through, wearing nothing but her wrapper and a pair of slippers. She approached him for a kiss, but Sidney drew her onto his lap, holding her tightly and burying his face in her hair.
"Sidney? Is something the matter?" Charlotte asked.
"No more," He breathed, "thank God, no more."
At the breakfast table, Georgiana was quizzing the Dryden children.
"You mean, your mother has never spoken of me, of our friendship?" She asked Anthony, who turned to his sister for help.
"No ma'am, she spoke very little of her Sanditon friends." Theresa replied.
"And yet she kept a correspondence with Lady Babington?" Georgiana sounded offended. She and Charlotte had once been truer friends than Esther and Charlotte…and yet when they had all grown into adulthood, it was Esther who became a companion.
"A tenuous connection, ma'am. We met but only once or twice until last summer. And she has so many children our age, you know." Anthony added.
"Yes, the Babingtons are exceedingly prolific. Hmph." Georgiana dug her spoon into a coddled egg, somewhat cold amidst her interrogations.
"Did you not know my father? Were you at their wedding?" Junia queried.
They all watched Georgiana bristle a bit.
"I was invited, of course…" She began. But as she spoke, Sidney and Charlotte entered the room.
"Miss Lambe remains opposed to the Roman church on moral grounds, or any organized religion for that matter." Sidney offered casually, correctly guessing the reason that Charlotte's invitation had been declined, many years ago.
"I find all religious institutions to be inherently in opposition to the rights of the female sex." Georgiana said resolutely.
"Dear me." Charlotte said, as she helped herself to the buffet.
"I believe OUR LADY would have something to say about that." Helen burst out, her little face red. Georgiana raised an eyebrow and looked at Charlotte.
"Nenny, please. Do not forget your manners." Charlotte whispered, turning red herself.
"Don't trouble yourself, I admire the spirit. And besides, it was more than just religion that kept me."
"Is this perhaps the most appropriate breakfast topic?" Sidney asked, "I'd rather hear about a shopping trip in town, or if anyone has dared swim in the January air."
Sidney, always so smooth, and always keen to avoid a controversial topic. His own daughters had sat this one out, but he could see their heads swiveling back and forth, as if they were watching a match of lawn tennis. He'd rather shut it down before they began adding their own pointed opinions and further offending their step-family. Especially when he knew the overt religiosity of the Dryden's was a favorite topic for his girls.
The air between Charlotte and Georgiana was awkward to say the least. In the past fifteen years, the two of them had scarcely more than a few letters between them, and when Charlotte had married James, she neatly tucked the fond memories she shared with Georgiana into the same spot where she kept Sidney in her brain; a place of tenderness, and yet deep pain. They'd hurt one another, in indirect ways, when Charlotte married.
The two women generally avoided any meaningful topic for the rest of breakfast.
Sidney knew they hadn't spoken much. Ironic, the way things had turned out. Georgiana had never approved of Charlotte and Sidney's love, but once the connection was broken, she turned into something of a romantic, pleading for his marriage to be delayed, in the event that another solution could be found. She asked him to wait till she came of age, and they could take her money. Sidney refused, time and again. But more lingered, he knew the two women ceased to speak for other reasons, and they needed an opportunity to make amends.
Inspiration struck him.
"I think I'd like to take a walk, and I think the rest of you are required to join me." Sidney announced to the children assembled around the breakfast table.
"And Mama?" Junia queried.
"Your Mama and Miss Lambe require some quiet and peace from you all. I know, they told me so."
"Oh! She said no such thing." Helen exclaimed.
"Must we go, too?" Marianne whined.
"Yes. Everyone not of legal majority in this room is required. Hats and coats and gloves, and be quick about it!" Sidney leapt up, threw his napkin on the table.
In a record breaking feat, Sidney ushered all six children out of the breakfast room, into the hall, until they were fitted and kitted and ready for the most brisk of walks along the beach. As a father, he knew that it was the perfect recipe to tire them out, and hopefully forge some camaraderie. With him as the common enemy, perhaps the children would bond. It was worth the effort.
What he left behind was dead silence.
"Um, would you adjourn to the library with me, Georgiana? May I still call you Georgiana?" Charlotte asked.
"You may. I hardly know what to call you, your titles and surnames are many." Georgiana responded, a touch of ice in her tone.
"Charlotte. I've always been, just Charlotte."
The two women went into the library, a modest room, only half full. It was a far cry from the vastness of Middlesmoor's collection, or from Sidney's study in his London townhome, which was over-crammed. Georgiana herself boasted an impressive collection, when she had time to utilize it between her travels.
They sat down before the fire, freshly lit and not quite roaring. Charlotte fiddled with the cuff of her dress. Georgiana cleared her throat.
"I suppose I'll begin."
A/N (again, oops): Their conversation is yet to come! I apologize for the delays. Sometimes life gets in the way, and inspiration falls aside…and then it jumps back up again. For us USA viewers, the tales in Sanditon end tonight, and I confess I'm partly sad, partly relieved. I've been struck lately by how tonally different the first season feels to this one, and how the writing feels…like a cheap imitation at times. That is very bold of me, an anonymous fic writer who makes countless errors and is stumbling through a plot herself, to say! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I post it as I write the next, and I look forward to sharing this blended family's joys and struggles with you all. Happy (final) Sanditon Sunday!