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Chapter Text

Tom was in a towering fury. Sidney sighed to himself and settled further back into his chair contemplating if the amount of liquid remaining in his glass was enough to wait out Tom’s tirade.

“…our first Ball, Sidney - our first one! And in our new assembly room, at that! I made it clear how important it was that you be there- with your fashionable, society friends. And yet, you failed to arrive in time! I felt a fool, Sidney! A fool!” Tom paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, hands waving, “And Lady Denham of course had her remarks, asking about your whereabouts…”

Sidney decided he was in need of a refill after all. He stood and crossed the room to the set of crystal decanters, selected his favorite and poured another two fingers into the glass.

“There was a ball, was there not, Tom? People danced? Made merry, I assume?” Sidney took a drink. At Tom’s silence, he continued, “Then by all accounts, I’d say it was a success, even without our presence.” He crossed to the chair to sit again, “As I told you, I was unavoidably detained with a matter of business- but I am here now, so,” he leaned back, “What is our next task?”

Tom’s anger deflated, “Lady Denham has sent out an invitation for a luncheon party, in honor of your ward, Miss Lambe. We are all expected to attend tomorrow.”

Sidney winced inwardly, the party would unlikely offer any enjoyment to himself or his friends. “I will talk with Lord Babington and Crowe,” was all Sidney would say.

A knock on the door frame interrupted them, “Mr. Parker?” In the door stood a young woman he was certain he had never met. “Oh, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Her surprise only heightened her appearance of wide eyed innocence. She turned as if to leave.

“No, no, not at all Charlotte, please, come in.” He waved her into the room. She took a few hesitant steps.

“New maid, Tom?”

Tom turned his attention sharply to his brother, “Goodness, Sidney, no. This is our houseguest for the summer, Miss Charlotte Heywood.” He gestured for her to come closer, “Miss Heywood, this is my brother, Sidney.”

“How do you do?” she asked politely. Sidney nodded a brief reply and looked away, studying a painting on the far wall.

He knew her type, he encountered them all over London. Young women who left their homes in search of an advantageous match. Husband seekers- wealthy husbands preferred. And as he was a man of means who remained determinedly unwed, he was constantly sought out by social climbing mothers and their unmarried daughters. He would not be so harassed in his own family home.

He was now even more relieved that he had taken rooms at the hotel if she was to be at Trafalgar House all summer.

He continued his study of the wall, listening as the interloper asked Tom a question about some business papers. He furrowed his brow, wondering what she was doing meddling in Tom’s desk. He made a mental note to come by the next day to look things over.

Though Tom was the eldest and therefore the heir to their lands and houses, he had never had a head for numbers. It was far too full of dreams and fanciful ideas to take much stock in the monotony of practicalities such as account books and budgets.

But for now, Sidney wanted to get as far from this doe eyed young woman as he could, before she turned her attention on him and tried to entice him with her sewing accomplishments or her abilities on the pianoforte. He shuddered at the memory of one such evening he was unable to politely escape.

“Well, I must see that my friends are situated at the hotel and then we’ve been invited to dinner.” He stood, setting his glass on a nearby table without looking at Miss Heywood. “I will see you tomorrow at the luncheon, Tom.”

He sent a brief nod in the general direction of Tom’s guest, so as not to be completely rude, and left the room briskly.

Chapter Text

To Sidney’s dismay, he found himself seated next to the young lady at Lady Denham’s luncheon the next day. But, to his surprise, she did not immediately attempt to engage him in conversation. As courtesy dictated that some amount of conversation was necessary, he cast about for a topic that might not place him on the receiving end of a list of her dubious accomplishments. Lacking any immediate inspiration, he noticed her silently observing the room and assembled company.

Oddly, he found he had a desire to know what she was thinking.

“A penny for your thoughts, Miss Heywood?”

Her large brown eyes focused on his face, a faint flush on her cheeks, “I confess, I am thinking of how little of the world I have seen and how much I have experienced in my short time here.”

He waited to see if she would continue, when he did not speak, she continued.

She fiddled with her napkin, “While at times I have had difficulty making out the nature of some I have met; until I came to Sanditon- at your brother’s kind invitation- I had never seen the sea before.”

“And how did you find it? The sea, I mean,” he prompted her.

She smiled, “I’ve found I enjoy sea bathing very much. And the work your brother is doing here is truly a marvel.”

“Yes, Tom has always had a grand imagination.” Sidney had nothing else to say on the matter. Tom’s grand designs were costly- he did not understand the concept of working within one’s means. As a result Tom, and Sanditon, were frequently inconvenient in the demands they placed on Sidney.

As if sensing his change of mood, she continued, “And, I can’t help but think what an odd looking fruit that pineapple seems to be. Are we really meant to eat it? With all its barbs, it looks as though it may attack anyone that tries,” her teasing smile drew him out of his thoughts.

He felt himself smile, “Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat, “Actually, it is quite sweet inside, once you remove the prickly outer layer.”

She returned his smile, “If that is the case, I look forward to the experience.”

Any reply he may have made was cut short when Lady Denham asked about Georgiana’s mother. The entire room fell silent at the very audacity of such an inquiry, waiting breathlessly for Georgiana’s reply.

Even once she made her answer, curtly silencing the old crone, the assembled company continued their own silence; lest they draw her attention to themselves. Unfortunately, Lady Denham, being unsatisfied with the dismissal she received from Georgiana, chose her next victim, presumably hoping for easier prey.

The young woman to his left was visibly startled to be dragged into such an unseemly conversation, looking around the room as if someone might interject. Finding no one willing to put themselves in the path of Lady Denham’s keen observations, she was forced to reply for herself.

“I think that Miss Lambe is quite right to value her independence, just as you do yours.”

Lady Denham was apparently displeased with that response too, keeping her eye, and her impertinently direct line of questioning on Miss Heywood, “And you, miss, are you still keeping up the pretense that you are not in Sanditon in search of a wealthy man to marry and keep you?”

Taken aback, the young woman gave a nervous laugh, looking about the assembled company for someone to object. Again, finding no one, she gave her reply, “Indeed I am not, ma’am. I have no thoughts of marriage at all! And if I were to choose a husband, wealth would not come into it.”

Sidney could not help but glance at the woman beside him. To his knowledge, she was not from a family of wealth, surely she could not be serious, everyone married with money in mind.

“Poppycock.” Lady Denham apparently shared his skepticism, but as usual, voiced it in a way no one else would have dared.

But Miss Heywood would not fold, in fact, she sat up straighter, “Should not a good marriage be based on mutual love and affection?” she argued. “Without equality of affection, marriage can become a kind of slavery.” Sidney caught her brief look at his ward across the table. Georgiana gave a small nod of thanks in return.

Even after such a tactless and ill-received conversation, it seemed Lady Denham was not done. She brazenly suggested an engagement between Georgiana and her nephew, Sir Edward, in front of the entire company.

Appearing nonplussed, even in the face of further rude presumption at the hands of her hostess, Georgiana soundly rejected the undesirable proposal. Sidney hoped his smile at her handling of the proposition wasn’t noticed by Lady Denham, or he might be the next in the line of fire.

His worry was for naught however, when Arthur made a spectacle of himself- and the pineapple- instead.

/

The next day found him sat in the pub with Babington and Crowe when Miss Heywood came up in conversation. The spark of irritation that flared within him at Crowe’s crudeness surprised him. But he was distracted by Crowe’s words about Georgiana and was spared examining that unbidden thought.

He was further diverted from dwelling on the effect Miss Heywood’s name had on him when Tom burst in, sending his friends away and demanding to know his progress on the promotion of Sanditon. Sidney felt an ache begin in his head.

Tom’s seemingly casual use of the word carouse was as carefully curated as any of Lady Denham’s barbs. Sidney was all too aware of the debt he owed Tom for rescuing him from a life of debauchery and dissolution years before. Tom may have been prone to grandiosity and lacked an attention to detail, especially in matters of money; but he had an unerring focus when it came to knowing exactly which buttons to push on his brother to ply him with guilt, manipulating him once again into doing his bidding.

He may have long since repaid his monetary debts to Tom, but emotional debts had no
promissory note to destroy and apparently, no end of term.

Begrudgingly, Sidney assured his brother he was trying, and that he would continue his aid in Tom’s venture. Mercifully, Tom departed, leaving Sidney with his thoughts, which had curiously included a pair of brown eyes since this afternoon.

Sidney stood abruptly, the air feeling suddenly stifling. He made his excuses to his friends, and fled in search of fresh air and exercise.

/

The sea and its air were as bracing as he hoped, but his mind remained muddled. He dove under once more, to try to wash away the irksome thoughts.

But when he resurfaced, a most surprising sight appeared-

“Miss Heywood?” He paused, looking around for his clothes, which were of course, yards away on the beach. Thankfully she had already spun around, her back to him. “I, uh, did not expect anyone else in this cove.” He wiped a hand down his face.

“Mr. Parker, I assure you, I did not seek it out on purpose!” She shook her head, “I was collecting seashells…” She held her left hand aloft, as if to show him the validity of her statement, but it was clenched in a fist so all he could see was the back of her hand.

“Of course.” What else does one say in this situation he wondered?

Thankfully, she had an answer, “My apologies for uh, intruding- excuse me,” and at that she fled, scrambling up the hill and away from him and his nakedness.

He watched her retreating back for a moment, alternately abashed and amused. He glanced back at the sea, and briefly considered another dip. But, thinking the better of it, he headed towards the beach and his clothes. He’d have to unravel his thoughts, including those of wide brown eyes, on dry land it seemed.

Chapter Text

Charlotte’s mind was all a muddle.

It wasn’t so much that she’d never seen the male form before, she had eleven siblings, after all- and she had helped care for most of them since their infancy. And no one allowed her brother Michael to forget that he had spent several months as a toddler refusing to wear clothes. Any time he was left unattended, he would strip to run about without a stitch on, so she was hardly unfamiliar with the anatomy.

But an adult male form, in person- not as a figure in a painting… that was something new altogether. And she could not get the image out of her head.

It seemed as though she was surrounded by reminders- the portrait of Mr. Sidney Parker in the hall, the smell of the sea air and Mary’s query about her search for seashells - it was as if everything around her was conspiring to make her relive that moment in the cove. Worse, she was torn between a mixture of mortification and curiosity and- somewhat to her dismay- curiosity seemed to be winning out. She was constantly having to refocus her thoughts as, left unattended, they strayed to water droplets on smooth skin and lines of musculature she’d only ever seen in art.

She blushed at these thoughts, certain Mary could see into her mind’s eye to learn of the events of yesterday. She quickly begged her leave and went to Tom’s office, hoping some time alone- and having a task to accomplish- might allow her to focus her thoughts on anything but Mr. Sidney Parker and the glitter of saltwater as it traced its path back into the sea.

/

She’d been working several minutes, her mind blissfully attentive to the task at hand, when she heard the raised voices of the eldest Parker brothers. Not knowing what to do, she dove under the desk.

Unfortunately for Charlotte, their argument was not enough to allow her to remain invisible.

Meeting Tom’s glance, she knew she was discovered. “Charlotte?”

“Oh! There it is!” she stood up clutching a sheet of paper, hoping the men believed her ruse. Though judging by their shared look, she inwardly cringed, it was unlikely.

Mr. Sidney Parker broke the awkward silence, “Miss Heywood, it seems we meet again.” Did she imagine that his mouth tipped up at the corner?

She prayed that neither Mr. Parker noticed her blush. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’ll leave you to your discussions.” She ducked her chin and fled the room.

/

Mary found her in the sitting room and asked Charlotte if she wished to accompany her and the children for a walk on the beach.

Charlotte gladly accepted the invitation, happy to have a reason to avoid any further chance meetings with Mr. Parker.

Unfortunately, the waves lapping on the beach reminded her strongly of the cove and she found herself distracted as they walked along the shore. But Mary’s distress at Tom’s preoccupation with Sanditon and his endless plans drew Charlotte back to the present.

She tried to comfort her friend as best she could. “I wish there were more I could do to help.”

Mary sighed, “I’m afraid my husband, like most men, is reluctant to accept help from anyone. At least you must never let him catch you in the act.”

Charlotte had observed that men didn’t like asking for help. On more than one occasion she’d witnessed her mother deftly guiding her father- one of the most sensible men she knew- to a solution in such a way he might call it his own. Her mother never mentioned it, but her small smile when he followed her course of action told Charlotte that her mother knew that her words had the desired effect.

Their conversation was interrupted when the children caught up to them, capturing Charlotte’s hands. As they returned home, Charlotte was left to her musings. She considered Mary’s words and the memories of her mother’s gentle guidance and how the very nature of men could be so confounding.

/

As if Mary’s words were prophetic, Tom met them on their return, only to inform the ladies that he was leaving on a mission for the betterment of Sanditon. And that he had no definite plan for his return. Charlotte could see Mary’s dismay, but, like Mary, she said nothing.

/

Sidney read the brief account of Georgiana’s latest exploits and briefly wondered where in his life he went wrong. He quickly shook the thought, deciding that it was more of a list than he cared to examine. He refolded the paper and informed his friends of the change to his plans.

Crowe, as usual, enjoyed a laugh at his expense; while Babington was a bit more sympathetic, if still amused, by his plight.

He sighed, cursed his ill fortune- and his decision to order that extra bottle the night before- and set off to speak to his infuriating ward.

It wasn’t yet noon and already the day felt too long.

/

His talk with Georgiana went as poorly as expected. He was exceptionally grateful when Mrs. Griffiths announced that Georgiana had another visitor so that he could take his leave.

He stood, calling for Mrs. Griffiths.

However he hadn’t taken three steps from the room when he ran into the young woman he had now unexpectedly encountered for the third time in less than twenty four hours. “Miss Heywood, we keep running into each other.”

“Mr. Parker, forgive me, I did not see you.” She looked flustered at their proximity, which forced him to set aside his irritation with Georgiana for a moment.

He took a step back, and attempted a smile, “On the contrary, I should apologize.”

She nodded her acceptance but said nothing. They stood in awkward silence for a moment before he broke it, “Well, I must be going,” he paused, thinking back to a conversation at the luncheon and the moment shared between Miss Heywood and Georgiana. Miss Heywood seemed a sensible young woman, if a bit naive at times.

“Perhaps you can talk some sense into my insolent ward.”

She looked at him curiously, “In what way do you mean?”

“She…” he paused at the thought of explaining Georgiana’s painting to the woman who had already seen far too much and decided against it, “Ah, never mind. Good day, Miss Heywood.” He stepped around her and took his leave.

He could hear her confused, “Good day, Mr. Parker,” echo down the hall after him.

/

However, it seemed they were destined to move in the same orbit. The very next day, as he read the newspaper in Tom’s office, he heard a now familiar voice call out, “Mr. Parker?”

“Yes?” he inquired with teasing politeness.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I was looking for Mr. Tom Parker.”

“But it seems you found me instead,” He folded his newspaper and placed it on the desk with a smirk, “I hope I never have reason to hide from you, Miss Heywood. I do believe it would prove a futile effort- you are always turning up- no matter where I go.”

Her mouth tipped up on one side, as if not sure whether to smile.

Before Sidney could assure her that he meant no harm, Tom burst in, interrupting them, “Ah, Charlotte, Sidney, come.”

Sidney glared at his brother in irritation, though whether that irritation came at the interruption or at the imperious way he was summoned, Sidney could not be certain.

Tom continued, oblivious, “It’s time to leave. You don’t want to miss Dr. Fuchs’s demonstration!”

Sidney swallowed his derision, “Actually, I’m pretty sure I can do without that. I’ll uh, I’ll stay here and catch up on some paperwork.” He’d been meaning to look over the books anyway.

Unfortunately, Tom would not be put off. He leaned into the now familiar guilt, and Sidney capitulated under the weight. But, he vowed to himself that he would stay only the hour requested AND remain out of earshot of the hypochondriacs that were his younger siblings.

Chapter Text

Charlotte watched as Dr. Fuchs tended to Mr. Parker’s youngest brother and sister - and as Lady Denham scoffed at each demonstration. She couldn’t help but think that there was little hope in winning over the older woman.

She was startled out of her musings when Mr. Sidney Parker slammed his glass down on the tray behind her and declared himself as having seen enough. Before anyone could stop him, he swept from the room.

It wasn’t even a half of an hour before the rest of the company followed him though, thrown out by Lady Denham for the injuring of her niece.

Mary followed her husband to see off Dr. Fuchs. Rather than wait, Charlotte declared her intention to return home. She gathered her bonnet and pelisse to leave when she was called back by Mr. Parker, “Charlotte, do you think you could deliver a message to Mr. Stringer for me?”

She waited while he wrote out a short note, then folded and sealed it before handing it to her for delivery.

/

Charlotte picked her way through the construction site, careful not to disturb the workers, but unable to stop herself from studying the work being done.

Mr. Stringer called out, pulling her attention from the bustle around her, “Miss Heywood! What can I do for you?” He jogged down the stairs to meet her.

He smiled as she approached, and as she handed him the message from Mr. Parker. She watched as his smile faded as he read it, morphing instead into frustration. He tried to clear his expression- without much success- before he looked back at her. Thanking her for her efforts, he turned and walked away.

Charlotte couldn’t stop herself, “Is something wrong, Mr. Stringer?”

He did not turn, but he did slow to a stop, “No, no, I just hoped Mr. Parker would meet me in person, that’s all.” His hands found his hips as he turned to face her.

She tried to reassure him, “Oh, I’m sure he would have come down himself. But he has rather a lot to contend with today.”

“No doubt,” his smile said he understood, but his tone- and something in his eyes- said otherwise.

He changed the subject, but even as she answered she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. It was the second time that week that she had found Mr. Stringer upset with Mr. Parker. Something was amiss. Hoping to learn more, she refocused her attention on the conversation about the ongoing work and Mr. Stringer’s aspirations - and his struggles with his father.

A sudden commotion cut short whatever Mr. Stringer had been about to say. Turning in the direction of the noise, she realized a terrible accident had occurred. Charlotte dashed to give whatever aid she could.

Her heart dropped further when she heard Mr. Stringer call, “Dad!” as he ran beside her.

She knelt down beside the injured man and began to check his injuries when she heard a deep voice say, “Here, let me help.”

She nodded at Mr. Sidney Parker as he removed his jacket and knelt down to examine the man’s leg.

“Are you alright, Mr. Stringer?” She asked, checking his head wound. He tried to assure her that he was fine, that he didn’t need a fuss made, but she ignored the obvious lie.

Mr. Parker felt the same, “It’s all right, it’s all right,” he repeated to try to calm the man. Charlotte watched hope bloom in his eyes as he remembered what she should have, “There’s a doctor in town,” Mr. Parker said, “we should fetch him.”

“I’ll go!” Mr. Robinson volunteered and immediately set off.

“Try the hotel,” Charlotte called after him.

She looked at Mr. Parker, “We need to stop the bleeding.”

An idea dawned as she said it. One of her father’s men had once gotten injured in the field; she remembered seeing him come in with a bandage above his wound. When she asked her father about it later, he explained that the pressure slowed the flow of blood, allowing them time to return for help before the loss of blood weakened him too badly to recover.

She began yanking at the hem of her petticoat to no avail. She looked at the two men, “Could one of you…?”

Mr. Parker immediately understood, standing to reach across and grab a fistful of cotton. He tugged sharply, ripping a strip from the bottom. She took the cloth from him and began to tie it tightly around old Mr. Stringer’s leg, just above the wound, slowing the loss of blood.

“That should do it,” she looked at Mr. Parker, whose face was much closer than before, “for now,” she added.

She turned her attention to old Mr. Stringer again, “Just try to keep as still as you can.”

With the makeshift tourniquet in place, they decided to take him to Trafalgar House to wait for the doctor.

Mr. Stringer and Mr. Parker got him up and began to carry him to the house. Charlotte led the way and, once they entered the house, began giving instructions.

She ignored Tom’s distressed outburst at the sight of the older man. Instead of acknowledging his questions, she called out the need for sheets and hot water. She ordered Mary to bring a table for Mr. Stringer, without pausing to think that she was a guest of the house and not its mistress.

Thankfully Mary was unoffended. She immediately grabbed Tom, who was of no use in the room, marshaled the servants, and began gathering the materials the doctor would require.

While the men settled Mr. Stringer on the sofa, Charlotte watched for the doctor. Luckily Mr. Robinson was quick.

Mr. Sidney Parker called again for a table and one was cleared while Charlotte answered the doctor’s questions about the accident.

Charlotte watched as Mr. Parker pulled young Mr. Stringer aside, asking him to step outside to spare himself, and his father, the pain of watching the procedure. The doctor then tried to exile her from the room as well but she brushed off his concerns, “I’m not afraid of a little blood.”

As a farmer’s daughter and a woman, she was hardly a stranger to blood.

After a harrowing few minutes as the doctor set old Mr. Stringer’s leg, the procedure was deemed a success by Dr. Fuchs. Charlotte left the men to the work of cleaning up and readying Mr. Stringer for transport home. She went outside to assure the son that things inside went as well as could be hoped.

His gratitude was enthusiastic, grabbing her hands in his thanks. She was surprised, but not offended, reassuring him as he begged forgiveness. Had it been her father, she would have been similarly relieved.

/

Sidney exited the house to see Mr. Stringer take Miss Heywood’s hands into his own.

Something unfamiliar reared up within him at the intimacy, but he pressed it back down when he saw the other man immediately remember himself and release her hands.

He contented himself with approaching the pair to impart his good news, “Your father will be glad to see you now, Mr. Stringer.” As expected, the other man hurried inside to see his father. Sidney watched him go, wondering how close Mr. Stringer’s apparent friendship with Miss Heywood had become.

The Miss Heywood, that now stood in front of him, watching Mr. Stringer’s retreating form.

Something about her attention to the other man grated his nerves, “So, uh, Miss Heywood,” he cast about for something to say, “I must admit, you gave a good account of yourself today. I would not have expected you to be so, uh, capable.” He thought back to her calm demeanor in the aftermath of the accident, her brown eyes assessing the scene immediately. He thought of the way she took control of the situation- she likely saved the man’s leg with her quick thinking. He remembered too, her effortless command as she readied a space for the doctor, knowing exactly what would be needed. Incredibly, as if all that had not been enough, she insisted she be allowed to stay to help and remained unflustered by the horrific sight and sounds of the doctor resetting the man’s leg. Sidney doubted the echo of the man’s screams, nor the crack of his bones would leave his memory soon.

They too closely resembled other memories he’d long tried to suppress.

Her eyes were drawn back to his, with a look of amusement. “Because I am a young woman?”

Sidney laughed awkwardly, “Uh, yes, I suppose.” His face grew serious, “Forgive me.”

She smiled, “Of course.” Her smile turned a bit mischievous, “Afterall, it is not such an uncommon thing for members of your sex to underestimate mine.” She paused, growing thoughtful, “It is a bit uncommon for them to apologize for it though. So, thank you,” she added with a tilt of her head.

Sidney nodded, not quite sure how to reply to such a frank response.

They stood in silence for a moment, before she broke it, “Could I ask you a question, Mr. Parker?”

“You have just done so,” he teased, “but by all means, ask another.”

She hesitated a moment, which surprised him. He was beginning to think she was fearless. However, even given a hundred guesses, he could not have predicted the question she had for him.

“Why do you seem so reluctant to help your brother?”

Sidney made a noise of protest, “I’ve done all I can to help Tom.”

/

Charlotte felt uneasy for a moment before deciding to continue, “Have you? It seems as if you are always arguing when he requests help. And, forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but it does not seem like he has much of a knack for organization. A few days after I arrived I began helping him with the papers on his desk.”

She thought back to the piles of papers she had sorted. She’d tried not to pry more than necessary to organize them, but there did seem to be rather more invoices than rent payments. Her odd conversations with Mr. Stringer also came to mind. It seemed that Tom was avoiding his foreman. How could she convey this to Mr. Parker without any real evidence?

Considering her words carefully, she decided to try. “And, um, it seems like Mr. Stringer has some concerns he wanted to discuss with Tom, but Tom seems to make himself, um, scarce- more than once. Maybe you could talk to him? Offer to help?”

Mr. Parker shook his head, “The only thing Tom wants from me is…” he looked down clearing his throat, “Uh, never mind.” He looked back at Charlotte, “I will talk to Mr. Stringer tomorrow,” he promised. “I imagine his mind is elsewhere right now.”

“You are probably right,” Charlotte agreed.

They heard the front door open and stepped aside as they saw Mr. Stringer and Mr. Robinson help old Mr. Stringer to a cart for transport home.

But as Tom tried to offer his platitudes, it turned out the worksite troubles were much on Mr. Stringer’s mind.

His explosive accusation startled the townspeople who had gathered at the spectacle. Mr. Stringer clearly wasn’t having Tom’s attempts to gloss over the accident. Tom again tried to mollify Mr. Stringer but, though unsuccessful, Mr. Stringer seemed to think better of continuing to make his argument in the middle of the street and left, taking his father and friend with him.

Mary took Tom’s arm, leading him inside, as he continued to try to brush off the incident.

Charlotte was at a bit of a loss for words as the street cleared, until she and Mr. Parker seemed to be the only ones left.

/

Sidney looked down at the young woman in front of him, her stricken look reminding him of a prior encounter he should probably also apologize for.

“Miss Heywood,” her face cleared and her eyes focused on him, causing him a moment’s pause as he stared into their depths. “Um, our, uh, meeting… down at the coves,” he looked away, her even gaze making him suddenly uneasy, “I hope you weren’t too embarrassed.”

As seemed to be the case that day, her response surprised him, “Why should I be embarrassed?” A half smile tipped the corner of her mouth, “I was fully clothed.”

Speechless for a second, Sidney stared at her for a moment, “Yes.” He looked away, this woman could not be more dissimilar to the ladies of his acquaintance if she were trying. He found it a welcome change. Unbidden, a chuckle escaped, “Very good point.” He cast about for a way to respond, “Well, it was hardly fair of you to uh, ambush me like that.” His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“I can assure you, it was not deliberate on my part,” her cheeks blushed prettily pink.

Perhaps she was not so unaffected after all. He tried, and failed, to seem stern- his smile betraying him, “Nor mine.”

They stood for a moment, their eyes reading the other’s expression before she broke the stand off, “Well then…”

“Well then,” he parrotted with a smile.

Her answering grin took his breath for a moment.

“I should probably go and… uh, help Mary,” she pointed distractedly behind herself.

He nodded. Stepping away from her was probably in his best interest as well.

“Good day.” With a nod and a last look at her, he turned and walked down the street, towards the hotel.

Perhaps he’d call again at the house later that afternoon, but for now, he needed a bit of air and a bite to eat.