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

Epilogue

Later that evening, Sanditon House, Sanditon

Maria Downing was bored. Bored with weddings, bored of pretending to be an embroidery wielding society Miss. Just bored. With her sisters, Rose and Louisa, enjoying the fruits of their deliriously happy marriages, she was quite at a loss to know what to do with herself.

It had been some time since her last episode of ennui had overwhelmed her. Not since Rose's wedding to Crowe had she been so discontent. She supposed that it was just her time to fly the nest. Alas, marriage seemed so dreadfully dull with all that compromise and homeliness. She shuddered. What she needed was a little fun and adventure before she was consigned to the ranks of the matrons. At twenty, she was no longer a fresh-faced debutante. To be fair, she'd never really given it a chance. Her single season had consisted of a couple of balls and a theatre visit. Hardly the stuff of dreams to be sure. And as for the men she had been introduced to. Gads, but they were dull.

"Ah, Maria. There you are. Rose has returned to The Crown with Crowe, as the baby is particularly restless this evening." Louisa, her kind-hearted, romantically minded sister advised. Recently married and deliriously in love, she was now on the lookout for a suitable swain her younger unmarried sibling, much to said sibling's horror.

"They are rolling back the carpets for dancing. Please say you'll be sociable this evening and dance. It's been an age since I saw you smile." Louisa nudged her sister in the hope of drawing her from the doldrums.

Maria rolled her eyes at her sister's cajolery. "Are there even gentlemen enough to partner us? And I mean real men, not those strange beings who look tolerably pleasing but have nothing but puffs of air for brains?"

Louisa laughed. "My, you have a wicked tongue. I shall ensure that Mr Ellis is available to partner you, he's a lovely young man. I'm sure your toes and your wits will be safe with him."

Maria looked across the room to where her brother in law was speaking to two men. "Which one is Mr Ellis?"

"The slighter built of the two men. Dark hair. He's such a sweet man." Smiled Louisa in encouragement. "I'm sure you'll like him."

Maria eyed the man her sister had called Mr Ellis with bored resignation, he would be kind and courteous and talk of the weather, she was sure. Just like all of the other men she had met of late. As she continued to study them, it was caught by the enquiring gaze of the other man in the group. He stared at her questioningly before dismissing her out of hand. Well. "Who is the other fellow, Lou? The one with the blonde hair?"

This time it was Louisa's turn to roll her eyes. "No."

"No, what?" Maria asked curiosity piqued.

"That's Carlisle, and Maria, he is not for the likes of you," Louisa responded with a frown.

"Is that so? Perhaps I could be the judge of that?" Maria grinned, "We're only talking of a country house dance after all. If you will not make the introductions, I'm sure your dear husband will oblige." She started across the room.

"So, Carlisle, what are your plans? You have only to say the word, and you can be reassigned. It needn't be France. More and more of our men are needed overseas these days. St Petersburg, Cairo, Boston even?" Hargreaves suggested.

"Though tempting, I have other responsibilities that must keep me here for the moment. His Grace is convinced that he is on death's door and suspects someone is trying to expedite his demise." Carlisle explained. "I've neglected my duties for long enough. It won't be forever." He bloody hoped not, anyway.

The conversation moved onto other matters, and for a moment, Sam allowed his attention to drift around the reception room. The Dowager Lady Denham was holding court over by the pianoforte, and it would appear that instructions had been given to begin the process of rolling rugs and moving furniture. That was like a red flag to a bachelor; dancing was about to begin. A quick getaway may be needed, he thought wryly.

As his attention moved around the room, it was caught by a pair of intensely blue eyes, seemingly mid-scrutiny. He recognised the chit. Her resemblance to Hargreaves wife was unmistakable. So, this was the wild child? The unmarried Miss that was giving his friend the megrims. As her gaze continued to linger, wildly inappropriately, he might add, he quirked a brow before turning away, but not before the realisation hit him that for once in his twenty-eight years, he felt like the prey in some bizarre field game, so intense had been her regard.

Shuddering at the thought, he tried once more to participate in the conversation around him. He was about to speak of the importance of regional dialects in undercover work when his thoughts were muddled by a musical voice spoken from just behind his left shoulder.

"Hargreaves dear, perhaps you would be so kind as to offer me an introduction to your friends?" The voice was pleasing to the ear and sent a warning straight to his senses. Stiffening, he knew without turning who had spoken.

"Maria. Such a request is inappropriate, as you well know, lass." Hargreaves spoke with an air of habitual resignation.

"Oh but brother, they are preparing for dancing and we ladies are devoid of partners." Spoke the lady, in a cajoling voice that set Carlisle's nerves on edge. God, save him from scheming females.

"Ah, I see. And I suppose the world shall end if you do not dance, Maria?" Hargreaves spoke, clearly exasperated by his charge. "Very well then, the Rt Hon Kit Ellis, may I present to you, Miss Maria Downing. Maria, Mr Ellis."

Kit smiled genuinely and performed a courtly bow to the lady stood just behind Sam.

Carlisle grimaced. If I stand very still and don't make eye contact, perhaps she won't force the introduction and will be content with Kit.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Ellis." She replied prettily, "And?"

Hargreaves cast him a look of apology. He knew well Carlisle's opinion of the fairer sex, "and Samuel Carlisle, may I make known to you Miss Maria Downing, my sister-in-law." He spoke the last with emphasis that Sam would be hard pushed to miss. "Maria, this is my colleague, Carlisle."

Resigned, he slowly turned to greet the lady, bowing only enough to be polite. He spoke curtly, "Charmed."

Meeting her eyes again was a mistake, he realised too late, and he was horrified to find that he couldn't look away.

"Mr Carlisle. I am delighted to make your acquaintance." She almost smiled. Just a quirk of the lips indicated her amusement. An awkward pause followed, their eye's not straying from the other, then she asked. "Are you of a mind to dance, Sir?"

Sam could tell that Hargreaves was shifting uncomfortably by his side, damn it, never mind Jack, he was uncomfortable. "The thought had not crossed my mind, Miss Downing."

A tinkling laugh escaped her, "I warrant not much does, Mr Carlisle, as your conversation will attest." Her eyes sparkled with mirth. Damn, the chit was trying to goad him.

"Or, perhaps you have two left feet?" She teased, "Or some affliction that affects your senses and are afraid to try?"

Still, he remained silent. Then he heard it; someone had taken to the piano. As music began to fill the room. Her eyes flashed with a challenge and speaking softly, she asked, "or perhaps it is the society you find wanting, Mr Carlisle?"

Knowing he could either dance or cause unforgivable offence, he reluctantly acknowledged that he had been bested. Taking a step closer, he grasped the minx's hand. Marching towards the makeshift dance floor, her hand still in his, he brought the lady to a halt where they stood facing each other once more. Both were utterly oblivious to the growing number of people watching their movements with interest, and in Hargreaves case, unease. A bloody waltz. Would you credit it? He fumed.

Bracing himself for what was, he was sure, going to be an uncomfortable experience, he took her hand in his and placed another about her waist, ignoring the sensations that the contact induced. Pulling her closer, they began to move.

Sam studied the face that was upturned curiously regarding his own. Those blasted, bewitching eyes, of course, a small rosebud mouth, clear complexion and hair like spun gold. Objectively he considered any one of those could be called pretty. Yet, put them all together, and they became something alarmingly different.

"What are you looking at so intently, Mr Carlisle." She asked softly.

"Trouble." He replied.

~The End~