The Redemption of Sir Edward Denham - A Return to Sanditon Novella

Fourteen

Sanditon House, Sanditon

A few days had passed since Clara and Violet had encountered Lady Denham in Sanditon. Today was the day that they were expected to take tea with the old dragon, an event that filled her with trepidation but also a glimmer of hope.

Violet, dressed in her smartest pinafore and bonnet, looked like an angel. Clara hoped that today, at least for a little while, she would act like one too. She smiled indulgently as they made their way across the estate, how could the progeny of Edward Denham not be spirited and mischievous. Thankfully, the stain of reputation – hers and her fathers – had yet to dampen Violet's thirst for life.

As they walked through the woodland that separated the Denham Place lands with those of Sanditon House, memories began to play tricks with Clara's nerves. She had spent time with Edward here, before their ruinous détente, and once, she and Esther had once shared some truths, painful though they were to recall. Despite her duplicitous behaviour, Clara had found her place in this world here, at least for a short time, before she had been justly shamed and banished.

The doors to Sanditon House opened as they arrived, and they were ushered into the drawing room. Lady Denham, if true to form, would keep them waiting before making her presence known. As Clara looked around the room, she noticed with a grin that the old dragon had indeed replaced the inlaid floor with new and, in Clara's opinion, much improved, parquetry. The wall coverings and furnishings had been updated, giving the room a much more welcoming ambience. The pianoforte still stood in pride of place, and Clara could not resist the urge to play a few idle notes. How she missed playing.

"I will say one thing in your favour, Clara Brereton, you were one of the most talented pianists to have graced this drawing room, even if some of the other activities you participated in here were less than salubrious." A stern voice spoke from the doorway.

Turning, Clara bit her lip to prevent herself from retorting and dipped into a modest curtsy, motioning for Violet to do the same.

As Lady Denham entered the room, it was clear that, once again, her focus had returned to Clara's daughter. "And Miss Violet, what do you think of my home? If you are anything like your mother, you will have opinions aplenty."

Violet grinned at her namesake and replied "I like it very much, Aunt. It's so big, and the garden is very pretty, and you have a pianoforte. I love music. Do you love music, Aunt?"

"My, my, what a chatty little thing you are. As you asked so prettily, yes, I do love music and have suffered from a lack of it over the past few years. Have you learned to play the instrument, child?" Lady Denham spoke kindly before motioning for Violet to take a seat opposite her. "Clara, play a little tune while I converse with your daughter," she added absently.

Clara obediently did as she was bid but kept half an ear on the conversation taking place a few feet away.

While Violet chattered and answered her Great-Aunt's questions, Clara smiled wistfully at the ease and naivety of her child. God forbid her daughter ever suffer at the hands of a man as she had done. Finishing the piece she was playing, a gentle Italian sonata, she stood and joined her daughter on the sofa. A tea tray had been brought in, and Lady Denham motioned for her to pour. It felt oddly like a return to her daily ritual, though it had been almost six years since she had last performed the duty for her aunt.

Violet had shown great enthusiasm when Lady Denham spoke of her recent addition to Sanditon House; an orangery. Not only did her gardener grow the favoured orange but had begun to cultivate pineapples with the help of a specially designed heating system that ensured the room stayed warm all year round. Of course, Violet had never seen a pineapple and was most curious to do so. Lady Denham called for her butler and asked that he show Miss Violet these new delights. Once her daughter had left the room, her aunt turned her focus upon Clara. This was the moment, she thought, where her disapproval and disdain would be conveyed.

"So, Clara Brereton, does she know of her father?" Lady Denham's gaze pierced. "I assume Edward knows of his progeny?"

"Violet knows that her father is abroad, and that distance has kept him from her," Clara answered simply. "As for Edward, he has known since before my confinement. He was, of course, already on the continent by then and unable to offer any assistance. Yet, I find we have managed despite his absence."

"Yes, I can see that." Lady Denham replied astutely. "She is a credit to you. But what of the future? Will you slip once more into the bowels of Satan?"

"Bowels of Satan, aunt? A little dramatic, don't you think?" Clara replied, bristling. "I did what I needed to do to survive when there was no one else to help me."

"Yes, yes. I know desperation when I see it." Lady Denham took a sip of her tea before continuing, "Yet, you haven't responded to my question. You brought shame upon your parents; it's no wonder they threw you to the wolves and defamed the Brereton name by flaunting your living, immoral as it was, amongst society. You are, by very definition, a ruined woman. Do you intend to return to that life, or have you come here, to Sanditon, in an attempt to put it behind you?"

"You seem to have made an assumption aunt, why not share it and we shall all know where we are," Clara spoke sarcastically.

"Now don't use that tone, it doesn't become you." Replied Lady Denham, "But as you ask, I believe you care about your daughter, and you know that your reputation, such as it is, will one day, harm her. I think you have come here to repair the damage that has been done and find a new path. Am I wrong?"

Clara, sighed, her defensiveness dissolving as she pondered her aunt's words. She was done trying to defend a way of life she found abhorrent. Not unlike her last encounter with Esther, it was time for honesty. "No, you are not wrong. Everything I do and have ever done has been for Violet."

"Well then, that's a start." Smiled Lady Denham, "We just have to find the right path and stick to it."

Clara laughed at the absurdly simplistic summation of her difficulties.

"There is but one solution. Respectability comes with marriage, Clara." Lady Denham nodded as Clara abruptly stopped laughing. "We shall have to find you a husband, leave it to me. I'm sure I can think of someone."