The Future of Sanditon

Untitled Part 9

(Two weeks prior in Sanditon)

     Charlotte looked out at line of the horizon and wept. He is alive. He is alive. He is alive... He cannot speak, and he remembers nothing, but he is alive... The ocean was awash in silver and a navy blue so deep it was almost black. The sun was peering through the clouds making the waves a patchwork of bright reflection and darkness. A storm was on the horizon, making that thin line separating sea and sky look white over the black clouds in the distance. The wind was picking up, tearing her hair from its pins and trying to pull her bonnet. Charlotte lifted her arms and felt for a moment that she could fly away to London if she wished, find her love, and restore him immediately with a glance. Any recovery will be a miracle, if the doctors and Tom are to be believed. I should not trust to hope, for all the good it has ever done me. Giving one last look off the cliffs into the growing storm, she turned her back on the wind and rain and let it blow her down the path, urging her steps faster as she wound towards Sanditon town, the carriage, and the long journey ahead of her.

****

     Insufferably hot and stuffy after hours and hours of travel, Charlotte had finally fallen asleep along the way to London and had only awoken when she heard the sound of cobblestones under the carriage wheels. She felt dizzy. Her body tingling and aching all at once. The anticipation of her arrival was turning her belly to a leaden weight. When the carriage stopped for a cabbage cart with a broken wheel, she thought she was going to swoon then realized that due to the interlude she could now find more care in her deportment when she actually did arrive at Bedford Place.

     He is alive. He is alive. He is alive. In life there is hope... When the carriage finally did pull up it was past suppertime but she didn't care. She left the carriage as soon as the footman opened the door and found Tom Parker and Lord Babington awaiting her on the steps.

     "Oh Miss Heywood, I can't tell you how pleased we are that you could find time in your busy schedule to come and aid us. Lady Denham is the soul of kindness to allow you here during such a sad time."

     As he spoke Charlotte took note of the darkness under his eyes and the pale of his cheeks, though his eyes were bright with hope. There it is again...hope...

     "Esther will call tomorrow morning; she is delighted to have some female company. My dear wife does not overly care for London society and has bemoaned the scarcity of women in this house many times."

     Babington as well looked pale and tired. There was some subtle disarray to his dress as well, she only noted it because he was always so impeccably attired that any deviation was noticeable to one who knew him well.

     "Would you care for some dinner? Or refreshment? You must be so tired..." Tom began.

     "I thank you all, but I think I should like to see him right away. A little tea would be welcome too..." She stopped and looked up at Tom as they entered the foyer, his eyes were shadowed. "What is it? Has something happened?"

     "I have told you already that he spoke your name," Tom said, "but you should know that it is the only word to cross his lips. Not one other. He seems tormented, as though he wishes to speak but does not know how. I wonder if, perhaps you should rest first before you go see him, it may be distressing to you to see him thus and I wish only for your health and comfort which will undoubtedly be a great help to my brothers' healing."

     "I appreciate your concern, truly, but I must confess that I have spent every moment since your last letter in turmoil. I truly do not know what I can do to help, but I should not wish to trouble anyone—"