The only reason to marry is Love - A Sanditon fanfic

Chapter 15: The key to her heart (part II)

A/N: This is the second part of the previous chapter, which means this one is also written from Charlotte's perspective. Just so you don't get confused. Last chapter before epilogue.

Chapter 15: The key to her heart (part II)

Following that picnic, their days continued much as they had been before or so it appeared on the surface, but inside Charlotte there was a shift. She felt it so distinctly and struggled to understand what had caused it and what it meant.

During the picnic, she had finally shared the secret that she had come to Sidney's room one night and found his bed empty. She revealed the leap of faith she once had taken, taking a new leap of faith in telling him so. She shared the pain it had caused her. They say shared sorrow is half sorrow and in retrospect she could see that this somehow helped her to leave it behind, almost like clothes you discard because you have outgrown them. He had in turn exposed how he fell in love and had remained in love all this time and she sensed that it was true. All these pieces served to rebuild trust her trust in him.

Secondly, the intimate moment they had shared changed her. It was like previously slumbering parts of her had been awoken by being held so close by him. The memory was clearly imprinted in her mind. Now, whenever he was near, her body seemed to gravitate towards him. Her logical, independent self was still slightly wary and trying to put up a fight, but rapidly losing it against her growing affections and treacherous body. She wanted him and that was not a thought, it was a sensation. A instinct impossible to resist. She was not even sure that any part of her wanted to resist it anymore. If he wanted her and she wanted to be his, how could it be wrong?

Her feelings were much like a small rivulet turning into a spring flood, growing in strength every day until she barely could hold it inside. Being close to him became more and more charged somehow. His presence overshadowed everything else around her.

Eating and sleeping was increasingly difficult because of this restless energy and aching need inside. When he was close to her without touching her, the air between them seemed to almost fizz. When he brushed against her or touched her, her blood felt as if it was boiling.

Nothing in his behaviour suggested that he was running out of patience, but she was. The wedding was approaching but he did not seem like he was preparing to leave after it. He had said he would stay until she sent him away but hoped she never would. Charlotte finally admitted to herself that she did not want to send him away and now, at last, she wanted him to know that.

It was well past midnight the night before the wedding when she consciously accepted that this was the case. She wanted Sidney to stay and she wanted to be his wife and, perhaps more importantly, she trusted that he wanted the same. Once her mind was made up, she became eager to tell him but did not dare go knock his door in the middle of the night. She turned restlessly in the bed, convinced she would not be able to fall asleep at all, but finally she must have anyway because when she opened her eyes again daylight had returned.

She rose from her bed, padded over to the window and gazed outside. The sun had barely made it over the horizon and a thin veil of fog hovered over the fields. It was still in the very early morning hours, just past dawn it seemed, but she did not have the patience to wait any longer. She had to speak to Sidney, there was this unstoppable urge inside her. She could not hold off another day, another hour even if perhaps Babington's and Esther's wedding day was not the best choice for such a conversation. She swiftly got dressed and headed for his chambers down the hallway. Outside his door, her courage almost failed her but then she knocked hesitantly.

Almost immediately she heard noise from someone stirring inside, like he had been awake already. During the torturous moments it took before he opened the door, her heart was beating frantically. When the door eventually swung open and he stood before her, surprise was written all over his face. He looked as if he had hurried to become respectable enough to open, with stubbled chin and dishevelled hair, dressed only in a white shirt with a few buttons unbuttoned, half tucked into the breeches. The sight of bare skin where there normally was a tidy cravat, caused a surge in her stomach and she had to tear her gaze away and pull herself together.