Return to Sanditon - A Novella

~ Twenty-Five ~

A few days later, Trafalgar House, Sanditon

Tom Parker sat in his empty breakfast parlour and stared morosely at the vacant chairs that surrounded him. He had lost count of the number of times he has almost called for his carriage to follow his family to London. Tom felt thoroughly bereft without them. He would give Mary the time she needed to repair her thoughts, he promised himself. She was his lodestone, and without her, even the excitement of Sanditon had been subdued.

A maid entered with a bundle of mail and handed it to him.

"Thank you, Betsy," He nodded, and the maid curtsied and left the room. Lord, preserve him. Even the staff looked like the sun had fallen from the sky.

Tom turned back to the pile of correspondence and reached for the first letter. Curious, he thought. It was franked and sealed. Opening the letter, he quickly scanned the contents. Confused, he read it twice more before putting it down.

Dear Mr T Parker

I am writing on behalf of my most esteemed employer, Baron Entwistle, to express an interest in the investment opportunity recently presented to him, in the form of the development and expansion of the Sanditon Health resort. The Prince Regent himself has advised interested parties to make their interests known as soon as possible to prevent disappointment.

Therefore, on behalf of Lord Entwistle, I am authorised to offer an initial investment of five thousand pounds. He has asked for assurances that he will be offered a further such opportunity should there be an occasion for more significant investment.

I look forward to hearing from you by return so that arrangement can be made to deposit the funds and discuss details of return on investment etcetera.

Your humble servant,

J Morrison, Esq.

Tom, in a state of nervous agitation, tore through the other missives. One after another, he found offers from investors, the total promised to be, if he had done his sums correctly, a staggering one hundred thousand pounds. Tom stood on shaking limbs and made his way to his study. There he poured himself a large brandy, drinking that, he poured another.

Good gracious! What does this mean? He thought to himself. Had Sidney been hard at work drumming up interest? No, that didn't sit well. Sidney was respected in town but did not routinely sup with the Regent, nor would he trouble himself when Eliza was prepared to fund the works. A thought niggled. The Regent? He knew of only one acquaintance of the Prince, and that was the good Lady Worcester. By Jove! Had she been so taken with Sanditon that she was championing them once more?

Something didn't make sense. He recalled the last conversation that he had had with Mary. Her insistence that Sidney and Charlotte had formed an attachment that was torn asunder by Sidney's engagement to Eliza. Had Sidney really been forced to sacrifice his love to keep him from debtors' prison? Indeed, it was more than plausible. Charlotte was a true advocate of Sanditon, and she had a heart of spun gold. She was also a guest of Lady Worcester for the season, and that would place her in such august company as the Regent himself. By Jove, Charlotte had done this.

Realisation dawned with startling clarity. Tom needed to get to London immediately. No time to waste. He would not allow his brother to sacrifice himself, not in light of these startling turn of events. Mind whirling, he scribbled a note to his brother to be mailed post-haste while Tom followed in his carriage.