Castaway

Chapter 1: Sidney and Eliza's wedded bliss (or not)

The year was 1818. The marriage of Mr Sidney Parker and Mrs Eliza Campion was celebrated in the Church of Saint-Martin-in-the-Fields, London, in the month of April. Following a relatively long engagement, the wedding was an elaborate affair, attended by the crème de la crème of London society. The presence of a few provincial relatives was also tolerated.

The bride was radiant, naturally, despite being on the wrong side of thirty, her handsome fortune more than compensating for her fading looks. The groom – well, what can be said of the groom? He cut a very dashing figure indeed in his black topcoat and top hat. He smiled politely at all the guests, but his smile never once reached his eyes. In unguarded moments, a black look descended on his sharply drawn features, casting a shadow on his (for once) neatly shaven visage. He was accompanied down the aisle by two ushers, his elder brother Thomas and his old friend Lord Babington, but a careful observer might have said that, rather than anticipating the most joyous occasion of his life, he had the air of a man being marched to the gallows.

Vows were spoken, rings were exchanged, and the happy couple were pronounced man and wife. The groom kissed his bride perfunctorily on the cheek. Thereafter, they retired to their abode at Tooley Street. I am not privy to what transpired between them on that night, or indeed on any of the nights following. Suffice to say that Sidney Parker adequately understood what was involved in his side of the bargain and performed his duty most admirably. However, it is a distinct possibility that his heart was not quite in it, that his mind was perhaps occupied elsewhere or, to be more precise, in thoughts of another person...

Having patiently endured an elaborate society wedding, however, when his beloved suggested an equally elaborate honeymoon, Mr Sidney Parker, now the man of the house, exerted his prerogative. No. No strolls beside the Seine in the City of Light, no gondola excursions in Venice, no Roman sojourn for them. After all, it was Eliza's second marriage and neither were in the first flush of youth. All of a sudden, Mr Sidney Parker had business in Antigua that required his urgent attention, namely the late Mr Lambe's estate. Unfortunately, the new Mrs Parker insisted on accompanying him, extolling the delights of this jewel of the West Indies – its white sand beaches, endless blue skies, friendly natives (if treated well) and delicious, exotic dishes. Sidney, of course, was all too familiar with the harsh reality of life in the Indies and attempted to dissuade her, citing the incessant heat, her delicate complexion and even more delicate stomach, but she could not be persuaded to remain in England. Reluctantly, he assented.

Miss Georgiana Lambe, meanwhile, was more than happy to wave goodbye to her insufferable guardian and let him manage the estate on her behalf. She would much rather be free of his despotic control and far away from the influence of his new bride, who she detested on sight. After much wheedling and cajoling, she persuaded Sidney to allow her to escape dreary old Sanditon and the Gorgon Griffiths and return to London for the season, under the strict supervision of a chaperone, of course. Reluctantly, he assented.

So, early one morning, two months after their happy marriage, the newly wedded couple boarded the schooner at West India Quay that would take them across the Atlantic Ocean to the magical, sun-kissed island of Antigua.