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

Twenty-Two

Fifteen minutes later, Edward found himself dressed and presentable. He was damned if he would stay here and suffer any further fussing and preening. No, Carlisle was here to talk of their mission, he assumed, and he would jolly well do so in the comfort of his receiving rooms downstairs. He hoped they would be comfortable. The last time he had been here there had been damp and peeling paper everywhere.

As Edward made his way down the staircase to the lower floor, he began to spot the many improvements that had indeed been made in his absence. There were also touches a brightness dotted here and there – flowers in vases and nicknacks adorning almost every surface. He stopped to regard a colourful figurine of a shepherdess in blue and white porcelain as he passed, reaching out to stroke a finger over the smooth glaze, and almost sent it flying off the windowsill as a voice spoke from behind him.

"Naughty! Mama says we must look and admire, but pretty things must not be touched." Violet had crept up behind him and scowled as he carefully withdrew his hand.

"Ah, Violet, my dear. Try not to sneak up on a fellow, there's a good girl." Edward laughed.

"What are you doing out of bed? Mama said you were not supposed to leave your room." Violet continued to question.

"Well, young lady, I suppose you never leave your room when instructed not to?" Edward asked incredulously. "For what it's worth, I'm feeling much improved, and I have a special visitor. Would you like to meet him?"

"I shall enjoy that above all things, Papa. I must practice my curtsy, Mama says so." Violet beamed.

Taking her hand in his, they made their way down the staircase and entered the drawing room.

Esther and Clara looked up as they entered, but before he could be chastised by the duo for leaving his quarters too soon, he noticed his guest. Carlisle was standing beside the fireplace, accompanied by a smiling Babington.

"Sam Carlisle, may I introduce to you my daughter, Violet." Edward motioned for the child to step forward. With a pretty curtsy and an angelic smile, Edward had never felt so proud.

"Violet" Clara beckoned. "Let the gentlemen speak for a moment. Come, sit here with mama and Aunt Esther. Edward, perhaps you would like to speak to your friend in the study?"

"Study? I have one of those now do I?" Edward looked confused for a moment. He turned to Carlisle and Babington. "Much has changed since I left England, come."

After a series of wrong turns, Edward found the room that he assumed Clara referred to as the study. It had the smell of fresh paint, and a large desk dominated the space. Some books filled the shelves on either side of a recently tended fireplace, and an Aubusson rug had been placed between a series of armchairs. Edward was still wracking his brain over his poor recollection of the room when he spotted a painting above the desk of two young men, not dissimilar to himself. He realised that he had seen that painting. It had once hung in one of the receiving rooms at Sanditon House. His father and his older brother shared a canny resemblance indeed.

Babington made for the drinks tray that had been left on one of the pedestal tables behind the desk and poured them each a brandy. It was then that Edward realised that this space had once been used for storage and had been shut up years ago due to its poor state of repair.

Babington, sensing Edward's confusion, explained. "Clara has been a marvel, truly. I never expected her to have accomplished so much in such a short tenure. It was fortuitous indeed that Denham needed a caretaker tenant and she and Violet needed a home. Fate, really."

"So, Clara was the tenant that Hargreaves spoke of. How the devil did he become involved in this?" Edward replied bemused.

"Clara and Louisa, Lady Berwick are acquainted. In fact, Clara saved her and her sister Rose, Crowe's Countess, from certain harm. It's a long story for another day. Clara was instrumental in bringing a brigand to justice, and because of her situation, was keen to find a home for Violet away from the scandal in town. Esther and I offered to step in, and all was well for a while. Sometime before Hargreaves' wedding, we realised that Violet was not thriving away from the only person she had ever known, so we made sure that Clara would be present at Wentworth for the wedding. Clara's circumstances had changed dramatically by then, and so we offered Denham as a solution. Hargreaves was aware of the offer we planned to make and had already set things in motion to recruit your aid. In return for your cooperation, Denham was to be restored, and Clara was the obvious choice to oversee it."

"Then I thank you for both caring enough about my daughter and giving Clara a second chance. She truly was a victim of circumstance, and I should have been here to aid her myself." Edward spoke sincerely. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes, "It was you, wasn't it?"

Babington returned his look with a benign smile, "Me?"

"Yes, Dujardin, the French gentlemen who, along with Carlisle here, first approached me in Lille, spoke of a 'recommendation'. Someone had put my name forward as a potential operative and wished to see me redeemed. Hargreaves acted on your suggestion, and the rest is history, I suppose." Edward shook his head as it all became clear.

"Esther and I discuss everything, Edward. When Clara came back into our lives, we realised, both of us, that her actions had been born out of the need to survive and her subsequent choices were made out of desperation and love." Babington took a sip of his brandy. "The best way we could support her without offering charity that allowed her to maintain her self-respect was to see that the father of her child returned to these shores and was able to support her. Despite our differences, I never thought you truly wicked, and I only hope you can become the man she deserves you to be."

"Right well, this is all very cosy." Carlisle cleared his throat awkwardly. "Now that we have clarified the nature of Denham's redemption and the fate of his future wife and child's happiness, perhaps we can get down to business?"

"Wait, what? No one mentioned marriage!" Edward retorted, but Carlisle's raised eyebrows and incredulous stare suggested that was indeed where his future was headed. Oddly, now the seed had been planted, the thought was not without merit, and he found himself imagining the possibilities even as he tried to listen to Carlisle's report.

Carlisle began by explaining the events that occurred directly after Edward's run-in with the assailant at the Richmond House ball.

"... by the time I reached your side, the fellow, we later identified as Armitage, had already felled you with his blade." Carlisle clarified. "The black powder was a ruse and was a legitimate purchase, albeit free of revenue and taxes, meant for use in the production of Armitage's pyrotechnic displays. His company was on the brink of bankruptcy, and he needed a high-profile job to secure his future. However, the 'shopping expedition' to Dunkirk was indeed a cover for the reformists to organise and plot the assassination that you managed to thwart, meanwhile, Armitage profited hugely from the black-market powder. The opening season fireworks display was the solution to his prayers, and in exchange, he was 'persuaded' to infiltrate the ball and to eliminate the target. The timing was everything, and it had to occur during the finale when the guests would be sufficiently diverted, so as not to notice the incident. It was timed to the second, and so, when the weapon was not where it was supposed to be, he panicked and became sloppy having to resort to the use of a blade. A trained assassin would never have been so shoddy. We must thank the stars that these men, whilst dangerous, were amateurs."

"So, there was never any explosives, and the powder was a red herring, is that what you're saying?" Edward asked, trying to follow the convoluted tale.

Carlisle shook his head. "No, not exactly. The trail of powder allowed us to link the reformists to Armitage and without that connection, we would have been going into the situation blind. Had they not tried to tie in the assassination attempt with a black-market shipment of powder, we would have missed it completely, and they would have almost certainly have succeeded."

Carlisle took a long swallow of brandy, "I am here today to advise you that your testimony will be required when this matter reaches the Courts. We need your witness testimony, as someone previously unconnected with the Home Office, that can place the men both here and in France. For Armitage, the case is open and shut. He was caught red-handed, but the reformist's links to Armitage are circumstantial at best, and we risk them being found guilty of the lesser charge smuggling if we cannot join the dots. If I testify under oath, my life as a covert operative will come to an end. I would do so if it was the only option, but I can do more good out there in the field than behind a desk in the home office, or worse, waiting for my grandfather to shuffle off this mortal coil to inherit his title." Carlisle shuddered at the thought.

"Yes, yes, of course, I will do whatever I can to help." Edward agreed, "but one thing. Who was the man that was supposed to be assassinated? You never mentioned."

Carlisle stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat, "I thought you knew. You prevented the murder of Lord Liverpool, the Prime Minister himself."

Babington smirked at the look of surprise on Edward's face, "Well if you're going to save someone, may as well make sure it's someone worth saving."