Chapter Text
Alexander put down the Sanditon Enquirer and sighed. It would do no good to keep fretting about whether or not Sam was up to the task of defending Miss Lambe.
It had all seemed so clear when he had overheard the conversation between Miss Lambe and Miss Heywood in the tea room. Miss Lambe needed a lawyer to defend her from the scurrilous suit Mr. Lockhart had brought against her. He, Alexander, had a direct connection to a lawyer. He couldn't just stand by when he could offer assistance. But, what he had failed to recall–or perhaps, what he had overlooked in the moment–was that Samuel the lawyer had never before taken on a case of this magnitude. The petty lawsuits that he had handled before had never received this much public scrutiny, and they certainly had never had such high stakes. They were easy cases for easy money, and his skills in the courtroom had never been put to such a test.
No matter what Mrs. Wheatley said to reassure him, he couldn't help feeling that involving Sam may have been folly. Folly that arose from a desire to assist Charlotte. She herself had such a strong sense of the righteousness of her friend's cause and faith that justice must prevail, that perhaps he had gotten caught up in the moment. But the side that would win would be the side that could convince the Lord Chancellor of the legitimacy of their claim. He wasn't sure if Sam had it in him to win. And if Sam lost the case…
Alexander didn't complete the thought. What he needed was a distraction. He stood up and left the drawing room. Walking down the hall, he passed the housekeeper.
"Mrs. Wheatley, where is Leo?"
"I believe she is in the schoolroom, sir, playing with her toy soldiers."
"Thank you."
Alexander passed by the library, registering Augusta seated a chair, occupied writing in one of her notebooks.
At the door to the schoolroom he paused, taking in the scene. The warm touches that Charlotte had brought in remained as she had left them. The colorful strips of fabric hung in the windows, the shelves around the room were filled with shells and other specimens collected during outdoor lessons. On the floor where Leo played was a tiny soldiers’ camp, set up on either side a river of blue ribbon, with landscape features created by shells, pine cones, buttons, and other bits and bobs.
Walking in, Alexander crouched down and sat beside Leo on the floor, and saw that she had positioned a battalion of soldiers to surround the encampment, which was defended by just a small company of soldiers.
“Papa!” exclaimed Leo in surprise. She looked pleased to see him. Alexander did not often venture up to the schoolroom.
“Is a battle taking place?”
“The general of the French army ordered the Spanish city to be surrounded. Soon, they will be marching to overtake it.”
“The Spanish soldiers look to be outnumbered.”
“Not for long. A messenger was sent to another unit who will be arriving soon to attack from behind!”
“So the French army will be forced to fight on both sides?”
Leo nodded. “They’re going to be slaughtered!”
Alexander chose not to comment on his daughter’s bloodthirsty response. “I came up here to see if you would like to join me on an expedition, Leo.”
“Expedition? What kind of expedition?”
“There is a place I used to go when I was your age. I thought I might show it to you.”
Leo’s face broke into a grin.
“Come on.” Alexander nodded towards the door.
Leo was wearing trousers and a tan waistcoat. Alexander reflected that the clothes would “suit the purpose” of their activity much better than would a dress. He and Leo had reached a tacit understanding that Leo could wear what she wished while at Heyrick Park so long as they did not have visitors, and she would wear a proper dress when out in public.
As they exited the house, he led them in the direction of the stables, shortening his strides to allow Leo to keep up.
“Are we taking Hannibal, Papa?”
“Not for today’s adventure, I’m afraid. For this, we travel on foot.”
Leading her past the stables, he once again walked along the line of trees to find the small stream and the deer trail.
“Here is our secret path, Leo. Would you like to go ahead?”
He let her lead the way, as she ducked under branches, following the path, and he came behind more slowly, pushing aside the supple branches and stooping beneath the thicker limbs.
“This is just like the path the messenger from the Spanish army took to sneak past the French!” Leo exclaimed.
“So does that mean we are spies for the Spanish army?”
“Well, I am a spy. You are my orderly.”
Alexander laughed out loud at this arrangement. “And how can I attend you, sir?”
“For now, you must be very quiet,” Leo whispered solemnly. “We are passing very close to the enemy encampment.”
They marched on in silence for a time.
Leo’s next remark revealed the direction her thoughts had taken in the intervening minutes.
"Papa, do you think Miss Lambe needs a spy?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, could a spy discover something that would help Uncle Samuel to win the argument?"
Alexander was careful in his response. "I imagine that Uncle Sam has his arguments and evidence well in hand." He spoke with more confidence than he felt. The last thing he needed was for Leo to prowl around Sanditon--or worse, run off to London--to put her notions of spying into action.
"What's evidence?"
"Something that proves that a statement is true."
"Perhaps Miss Heywood can help Miss Lambe find evidence."
"I am sure Miss Heywood is doing everything in her power to help her friend."
Leo subsided, and Alexander's thoughts continued along the direction Leo had set them in.
Charlotte had accompanied Miss Lambe to Heyrick Park only the other day to meet with Samuel. And when Sam had asked to speak with her friend alone, he had sat with Charlotte–stiffly, awkwardly, but doggedly.
It had both pained him and soothed him to be in her company. There was so much unsaid, so much that could not be said that it thickened the air between them. He had lost his chance to speak to her. He supposed he had lost it all those weeks ago in the summer when he had left her at Trafalgar House, after she had told him she could never feel such tenderness for a man who showed her so little respect. Her words had stopped him in his tracks, sending him back into the anguish and self-doubt that had caused him to send her away in the first place. All he could cause her was pain, he had felt then. Best to let her go and find happiness away from him.
His trip to Bath had helped him gain some perspective. He had endeavored to be the better father and uncle that he had promised himself he would be. And the fact that Leo and Augusta had warmed to his advances–the smiles and the teasing that had grown up among them–had suggested that perhaps his love was a gift and not the curse he had formerly believed it to be. Perhaps he could be a man worthy of a woman like Charlotte. “Forgive yourself,” she had urged. He had tried to forgive himself the mistakes of the past, and to move forward into the present.
So, when he had heard that she had returned to Sanditon, and especially when Augusta had said that Miss Heywood had expressed hope of his attending the party, he had been ready to speak to her. He had resolved to seize the opportunity to open his heart to her, to account for his past actions, and to beg her for a second chance to prove how dear she was to him and how carefully he would guard her happiness from now on. What a bitter pill it had been to swallow to realize that he was already too late. That she had engaged herself to another. Dancing with her after that had been almost too painful to bear. He could hardly bring himself to look at her. He had wanted to leave, to hide himself away and lick his wounds in private, but he had forced himself to stay for his niece.
He had not expected to meet her in the tea room. She was to have returned to Willingden after the party, but there she was, cheeks glowing with indignation at the injustice done to her friend. She had been as breathtaking as ever. He had envied the ease with which Leo could run up to her and take hold of her hands. He had recovered enough to be able to greet her with an appearance of equanimity, and he had endeavored to be civil, even gracious, in spite of the pain he had felt. Indeed, hope had risen unbidden in his heart at seeing her there. Curious as to what had kept her in Sanditon, he had listened to her conversation with her friend. Forming an idea of the difficult situation Miss Lambe was in, he made immediate resolutions to seek out his brother. He could do no less.
And so, he had found himself entertaining Charlotte back at Heyrick Park, while they waited for his brother and her friend to conclude their conference. He had made polite conversation. He had hardly dared to look at her. The sight of her had given him such stabs of longing and regret. So, he had kept his eyes downcast, only glancing over in her direction. He had seen her hands fidgeting with the gloves in her lap, and when one fell, he had been immediate to retrieve it, holding it out to her, but letting his lands linger on the glove as she took it. He had looked up into her face. God, she was beautiful. But she is to be married, he had told himself firmly, and returned to his seat.
“Leo and Augusta talk of you often,” he had told her, looking at her directly. “I think they miss your presence.”
Charlotte had returned his gaze. “Do they?”
“Profoundly.” He had been speaking of more than just the girls then, and his throat had constricted.
And then Miss Lambe had opened the door, putting an end to their tête-à-tête.
The next day, Charlotte had left with Miss Lambe and Mrs. Parker for London. Samuel had left as well, to prepare for the case. In a few days’ time, Samuel would return for the planned shooting party, but Charlotte–Miss Heywood–would be returning to Willingden, and he must reconcile himself to it.
He and Leo reached the first fork. “We’ll want to take the left fork here, Leo.”
He shook his head to clear it. This line of thinking would never do. Hadn't he brought Leo out to distract himself?
“Do you know, Leo, this was my best hiding spot when I was your age? I don’t believe anyone knew about it–even your Uncle Samuel.
“I would run in the direction of the stables, and Sam would assume I was hiding out there. I did spend a great deal of time with the horses. But sometimes I ran past the stables–no one could see me from the house–and one day, I found this particular deer path.”
He thought about all the times he had sought refuge in this particular hiding place. Frightening times with his father, or when his brother, who also could be quite protective, had pushed Xander too far with his teasing. He didn’t want to tell Leo any of those stories from his childhood.
Alexander suddenly grinned wickedly. “You know, Leo, you should ask your uncle about the time he lost his breeches.”
Leo looked back up at him and laughed. “How did he lose his breeches?”
“Well, one day Samuel had run off from the governess. He didn’t feel like studying and was playing the truant.” Alexander looked down at Leo in mock severity. “Hmmmm…seems you bear some resemblance to your uncle in that way.” Leo grinned delightedly, and Alexander knew he would come to regret saying that. He decided to worry about that another time.
“He had run down to the beach for a swim. He had stripped off his clothes carelessly, tossing his waistcoat and shirt onto rocks far from the water, but his breeches landed on another rock much closer to the water’s edge. He hadn’t realized that the tide would come in so quickly, and while he was swimming, the waves lifted his breeches and carried them off down the beach. By the time he emerged from the water, his breeches were nowhere to be found! He had to wrap his shirt around his waist, and he came slinking back home, trying to sneak in through the servant’s entrance. He couldn’t escape Mrs. Wheatley’s notice, as you may expect, and what a scolding she gave him!”
Leo laughed for many minutes at Uncle Samuel’s predicament. She was also pleased that she shared something else with her infamous uncle—scoldings from the housekeeper.
The story had taken them past the second fork, and now, as Leo's laughter came to an end, father and daughter entered the clearing. Immediately spotting the rock shaped like a ship's prow, Leo ran and clambered upon it, declaring it her pirate ship.
In another moment she was back on the ground, scrounging in the undergrowth for a stick to serve as a sword.
"En guarde!" Alexander felt a stab in his back as his daughter crept up behind him, jabbing the end of her stick in the small of his back.
He raised his arms in surrender and slowly turned around. "I must surrender, Captain Leo. You have caught me without means of defending myself."
"I have captured you and commandeered your ship, Admiral Colbourne. I must take you to the ship's brig."
Alexander let himself be marched behind the rock, where Leo pretended to manacle his hands. Later, he gamely walked the ship's plank, which involved a three-foot drop from the end of the rock to the ground.
Afterwards, Alexander engaged her in a game of chase, which--after trading rounds of being 'it'--resulted in Alexander scooping her up and carrying her over his shoulder, her laughter coming out in hiccups as she bounced against his back like a sack of potatoes.
Winded, they sat down, leaning against the side of the boulder, now warm from the afternoon sun. Alexander hadn't felt this light in years. What would Charlotte think if she could see him now?
Enough of that, he told himself firmly, putting his arm around his daughter and pulling her into his side.
"I'm hungry," Leo said as a grumbling sound emerged from her belly.
"Of course you are, you little ragamuffin. Let's go see what Miss Wheatley has for tea."