The Future of Sanditon

Part 10

I just wanted to check in and let you all know that I am ok, and that life just got away with me. I am working on the story now, (FINALLY!) and will post the chapter here when it is ready. I'll update the name on this section when I get it done.

I also want to thank all of you who reached out to check on me and my progress, your words of encouragement and kindness will not be forgotten! I truly appreciate all of you for even reading my work and want to thank you for that as well! I promise I will try to get the chapter up in the next couple of weeks! Be safe out there!

Arkadea

9/6/2020

(Here's half of the Christmas episode, I'll keep working and hopefully finish the rest of this section in the next week or so. Big shout out to Ms.Cecilia for help with my research on Pelegrino Turi, Love Your Face!! Enjoy everyone!)

Part Ten

Receiving a summons to visit Sanditon was the last thing that Edward expected to find when he finally made it downstairs at two in the afternoon in the French boarding house he was staying in. Events of the previous evening were not only quite lucrative for him, but also unexpectedly ill-timed knowing now that his location was common knowledge. For the past year He had made quite the life for himself by at first, gambling to accrue capitol, then investing the capitol in trade and various publication and news outlets. He may have lost his title but Edward Denham was no fool and he knew that he could do very well for himself as long as he stayed sober and did not let his mind dwell in the past.

He received news of Esther's marriage to that fool Babington, and that they were expecting their first child in the summer in a letter from Clara Brereton several months ago.  He had encountered her playing piano at a private party a few months before he left for Callais. She was pregnant and married to some nobody but still had that fire in her eyes, that ambition, the knowing look that could level you to the ground. She knew as much as he did of his aunt, though she did have a few more details about Esther's wedding and the progress with Sanditon than he expected. He only partially regretted allowing the name of his solicitor when he was in London to her, but still did not like being easily found.  Since then, he changed his rooms and apartments twice before acquiring enough money to travel France and establish himself in trade. Since Talavera, the French were downcast and unsure of whether to follow their leaders any longer. This also resulted in less animosity towards Englishmen for which Edward was vastly grateful in his business as well as personal enterprises.

Still, he was unsure as to why his disaffected aunt would wish him to return to England, and decided that whatever it was could not be so important as to take him from the gaming tables and delights of the French ladies, as well as needing to attend to his affairs here.  He took a swig of ale and a bite of the crusty loaf brought to him by the tavern girl. Pretty enough though she was, he did not care for the strange rash he had noticed upon her thighs and backside the morning after their first (and last) tumble. She seemed to take offence to his aloofness and paled whenever she saw him with dark drawn eyes and a furrowed brow.  Perhaps it is time to move on...

Finishing his food and ale he made for the front door. The muck of Beauvoir, closest village to the sand flats of Mont Saint Michel was particularly pungent this morning after the wet snow of the previous days. It had taken some weeks for him to become used to the aromas of the city, especially provincial places lacking proper cleanliness as he was used to. This had not however disinclined him from traveling along the northern coast of France until he found suitable lodgings and accompanying gaming tables. He was paid through the end of the week at his current rooms; however, he did not wish to stay longer if the long arm of Lady Denham had reached him here already. He went to the stables and secured a horse before returning to his rooms, arranging for his trunks to follow him west, grabbed his saddlebags and departed with the sun cresting the cold winter sky.