Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Good morning, Mrs. Colbourne.”

“Mmm…I suppose it is.” She stretched and ran her toes along the top of his left foot, then upward over his ankle and shin.   

“You suppose? Sleep well?”

“I do not recall there being much sleep, Mr. Colbourne. Then again, you are used to this bed in a way that I am not, so perhaps for you there was a little more rest.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She could see only his profile but could tell that he was smiling.

“There is no truth in that statement. Unlike other evenings, there was a distraction in the bed last night.”

“Oh?” She rolled onto her right hip and glanced at him. He was lying on his back, eyes exploring the bed canopy above. “Is that what I am? A distraction?”

“Each hour of each day for the rest of my life. It will be a wonder if I complete a single thought, sentence, or letter from this day forward.”

“You exaggerate.” She ran her fingertips along his left shoulder and bicep. “This room is charming, though. About that, you did not exaggerate. The large window is advantageous with such a moon as we had last night.”

He rolled onto his side to face her, letting his hand slip beneath the sheet. She smiled, then took a slight intake of breath as his right hand moved upward over her ribcage.

“What I cannot believe,” she continued, “is that I let you talk me into spending the night here at the inn.” She kissed his lips quickly, pulled back, and kissed him again. “I have a perfectly good bed within walking distance.”

“You were so concerned that I was going to tempt you into sin by dragging you here one evening against your will. No, not against your will. Against your better judgment. Well, now that you are here, how does it feel to be indiscreet and inappropriate for once in your life?”

She laughed as she pulled her left arm from under the sheet and held her hand aloft so that her ring flashed in the early morning light. “It is hardly being led into sin if we are married! Hardly indiscreet either. Inappropriate? I am afraid the jury is still out on that decision.”

He moved his right hand higher and kissed her slowly and deeply. “What do you know of juries, Mrs. Colbourne?” he murmured.

Now that he had half turned, she ran her foot along the side of his calf and moved her hips closer to his.  

“Little, Mr. Colbourne. Only what my husband tells me. Now evidence is different. I am more familiar with evidence. For example, I am aware of the evidence of your interest in me at this very moment.”

His grey eyes narrowed, and he winked at her. “You mean THAT evidence? I am afraid that I cannot help that, Mrs. Colbourne. It is a natural physical reaction to the nearness of you.”

“Do you intend to put that evidence to good use, sir?”

“Oh, I fully intend to, Mrs. Colbourne.” He rolled her gently onto her back, guiding her hip with his right hand as he did so. “If you will permit, that is.”

“Permission granted, Mr. Colbourne. I look forward to learning whether your evidence proves guilt or innocence.”

She ran her hands along his shoulders and looking into his eyes, relaxed the muscles of her lower body.

He brushed his lips against hers and smiled a wicked smile. “There are no innocent parties here, Mrs. Colbourne. I am afraid we are both guilty.”

“Guilty of what?” She grasped his shoulders tighter.

“Inappropriate, indiscreet, and illicit behavior. Now will you please let me focus so that I may prove my case with the evidence I bring before you.”

Her husky laugh filled the room. “Oh, I have a feeling you will have no problem bringing the jury around to your side.”

Juliana was jolted from her sleep when one of the carriage wheels hit a rut in the road. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as if her fellow travelers had been privy to her dream; however, she need not have worried even if they had been mind readers for they were all otherwise occupied.  

Leo stirred slightly next to her, but the rough bounce was not enough to wake the little girl. She merely pushed her head closer into Juliana’s left hip and curled her legs tighter on the carriage bench. Augusta grimaced but kept her eyes on the view out the window, knowing that the first glimpse of the sea was a few minutes away. Next to Augusta, Edgar picked up the book that had fallen from his lap during the jolt.

“Is it much farther, Mother?”

“I think it is less than a half hour at this point, is that not right, Augusta?”

“Less than that. You should smell the sea air soon.”

 “Will you be glad to be home again, Augusta?” Edgar asked as he peered out the window in an effort to not miss any change on the horizon that marked the spot where land met sea.

Augusta turned her attention back to the carriage’s interior. “I think I will be glad to attend Miss Lambe’s party and to help with the Autumn Ball. I will be glad when a few more months have passed, and the weather is once again warm. Winters can be long and quiet at Heyrick Park, but I think this winter will be better than the last one because, well, for one, I do not think that my uncles will argue as they did last year.”

Juliana raised her eyebrows. “Let us hope not. I believe some of those past arguments were about you, were they not? Your Uncle Samuel has long been an advocate of your being more involved in society, Augusta, but I do not think you should blame your Uncle Alexander for his caution. Both men have done what they think best for you.”

“Yes, but why does it have to always be in conflict? If it is a constant tug of war, then I am the rope caught between. And such a rope easily frays!”

“Well put, Cousin Augusta. I do think, however, that this is where Mother is a solid referee,” Edgar looked at his mother to gauge her reaction.   

“Edgar, I am not sure that is the best way to describe it for that implies that I am always a neutral party, and I cannot claim to be so. If Augusta had lived with us this past year and a half, her situation would have been different, but I do not think that we may assume that it necessarily would have been better.”

“If you had not lived with us, then what would have happened to me?”

Juliana looked down to see that Leo had been awake for several minutes and had heard part of the conversation.

Edgar smiled at Leonora. “What do you mean, what would have happened to you? You were living with your father at your home. It was Augusta who had to move from London.”

“But I never would have known any of you. I would not have had any cousins or friends.”

“We would have been cousins even if we had never seen each other, Leo. As far as friends go, we still do not have any friends.”

Augusta spoke in such a matter-of-fact tone, it left Juliana feeling disheartened. Despite the small steps of progress that had been made in London, her niece still felt alone.  

Edgar frowned and shifted uncomfortably. No doubt he was unsure of where to look much less what to think, unused to such awkward sentiments from even his own sister.

“You have Miss Vinley as a friend now. She is closer to your age than mine,” Leo pulled herself up by holding onto Juliana’s arm and looked directly at Augusta.

“Verity Vinley is six years older and lives in Kempton, Leo. We will not see each other in Sanditon. It is not the same. Not the same as…as someone being there all the time. Not like Miss Hey….”

“Miss Heywood?” Juliana finished for her.

Augusta crossed her arms and tapped her booted right foot.

“I thought that your uncle visited Miss Heywood in Willingden to return the books that Samuel mentioned?” Juliana asked, aware that she should not say too much of the truth in front of Leonora.

“Yes, but even with visiting Willingden, he will probably say something that will upset her again. He will…”

“Have faith in your uncle, Augusta. It has been several months. Much has changed.”

“I just wish it had all been different. If she had been there in London, everything would have been better. I would not have been so ill prepared.”

“Next time will be better, Augusta, and who knows, you may meet new friends at Miss Lambe’s birthday, at the ball, or bonfire. Do not give up hope.”

“And we are here!” Edgar pointed just beyond Augusta’s left arm. “The sea! We have finally arrived.” He bumped his left elbow against his cousin’s arm. “Cheer up, Augusta, there will be plenty of dances to be had in the next three weeks alone. Perhaps your Prince Charming is just around the corner waiting for you.”

And at that moment, Edgar spotted a scarecrow in the side garden of one of the cottages before the hill descended into town.

“Ha-ha! Why there he is now!”

Leo stood up to look where Edgar was pointing and giggled with delight when she saw the scarecrow with his loose jacket and bird-beaten tricorn hat. Edgar laughed in response.

“You are all impossible!” Augusta threw them an irritated glance but could not help but roll her eyes and smile.

  __

“They are here, sir! They are here!” Margaret called into the study as she ran down the main floor of Heyrick Park, trying to hastily remove her apron while mid stride, her wispy brown curls escaping her cap. “I saw them from Miss Leonora’s bedroom window!”

She double backed to the study apparently forgetting something. “Oh, your cravat, sir, your cravat!” Margaret gesticulated wildly toward her throat and pointed toward Alexander.

“Blast,” Alexander muttered, pushing back his chair. “I will be upstairs and right back down, Margaret. Tell them I will be there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alexander’s sleeve caught on a piece of paper at the edge of his desk, sending three letters to the floor. Luna jumped down from the window seat, sending one of the seat’s pillows flying from the propulsion of her rear legs. She ran out of the study fast on Margaret’s heels.  

He left the letters on the floor. They would just have to wait.

This is what he deserved from becoming so caught up in the morning’s work that he had forgotten to stop in time to put on his cravat and change his waistcoat before the Montroses arrived with Augusta and Leo.  

Running out of the study, he caught sight of Mrs. Wheatley’s cap out of the corner of his eye. Before she would say anything, he shouted out, “I know. I know!”

Mrs. Wheatley smiled because she was not planning on saying anything despite his assumption.  

“We shall meet you at the front door, Xander,” she said in her usual, non-plussed voice as she moved toward the foyer where Quinn was already waiting.

Alexander took the stairs two at a time to reach the upper hall and his bedroom.  Pulling open the drawer that held his neatly rolled cravats, he decided the pale gold and red waistcoat would look nicer than his brown one.

Walking to the looking glass with the cravat streaming behind him, he nearly tripped, and cursed at himself for taking too much time, despite the fact that he was moving as quickly as he could.

He need not have bothered.

He soon heard voices in the hall, and two sets of boots running up the stairs. Luna’s bark punctuated the sound of greetings in the foyer.

“Father!” Leo called excitedly as she ran through the open door of his room. “Father, we are back!”

“Why hello there!” Alexander exclaimed as he spun around from the mirror. “I can see that you have indeed returned!”

Alexander crouched down to hug Leo and smiled up at Augusta who was holding her bonnet by its ribbons. He stood up and embraced his niece with his free arm. “You made good time. We did not expect you for another hour.”

“Aunt Juliana asked The Horse and Hound to prepare a basket for us so that we would not need to stop for luncheon.”

“Very resourceful of your aunt, Augusta. I look forward to hearing everything about the journey and the past two weeks. But, first, I must tie my cravat or Mrs. Wheatley will never forgive me.”

“Father, we did not bring Michaelmas,” Leo launched into the news most pressing to her. “I am disappointed, but Aunt said that it was a long journey for a spaniel and that he would become easily bored.”  

“Well, perhaps it is just as well. Luna is used to being the only dog in the house. She may not have appreciated having another dog visiting.” Alexander wound the cravat around his shirt collar while talking.

A worried look entered Leo’s eyes. “But, Father, you said that Luna asked for a dog companion. That that was what she said.”

Alexander realized his error a little late. He did not feel it was the time to explain to Leonora that female Luna and male Michaelmas were not suitable companions in the way that a female mastiff and female lurcher would be.

“Leo, by that I mean that she may not appreciate a dog her own age or older visiting. Now a younger dog would be welcome because Luna would be able to impart her wisdom to a puppy. When she asked for a dog companion, I think Luna had in mind that she wished to have a dog who would look up to her. She has much to offer a puppy—helping to teach how we live here at Heyrick.”

Leo’s face relaxed, and her blue eyes lit up. “Ohhh…I see! Yes, Luna would want to spend time with a dog who is planning to live here forever not Michaelmas who would just be a visitor!”

“Yes, Leo, that is much of it.”

Augusta smirked and looked out the bedroom window, then looked back at her uncle, shaking her head. He could not read whether she was truly unimpressed or had been surprisingly impressed with his answer.

“Now, let me finish tying my cravat so that it is not lopsided, and we shall go downstairs. We must not keep Aunt Juliana and Edgar waiting!”

__

“Are you sure that this is how you wish to spend your birthday? In the kitchen garden with your housekeeper?”

Mrs. Gress was culling the last of the season’s herbs from the kitchen garden behind Colbourne House. Samuel had offered to assist, thinking that it would provide him an opportunity to clear his head after two long days barely leaving his office.

Juliana, Augusta, and Leo had already left for Sanditon with Edgar who had joined them at Kempton after traveling from Cambridge.

“I cannot imagine a better way to spend it, Mrs. Gress. Fresh air. Sunshine. Savor the season while it lasts, I say.”

“And you still intend to dine with the Piers family this month?”

“Yes. Jonathan Piers seems very amiable, Mrs. G. His letters have been forthcoming, and he has contacted his solicitor Mr. Rupert to determine if there are additional personal letters or business correspondence that will point toward Colbourne & Piers having interests that relate to the suit being raised.”

“I have never known you to work so hard to try to recuse yourself.” She handed him the basket once he had trimmed the thyme and coriander so that he could deposit the cuttings and continue trimming the other shrubs.

“I find the man who has brought the suit repulsive, and I do not wish to represent him. I am overturning every leaf before I give up. I do not mean that as a pun considering our current occupation.”

“Is it not enough that there is a connection through Sanditon and the Parker family? You know that Mr. Colbourne has spoken with them recently and that Miss Augusta is to take tea with them late in the month. Why Lady Montrose herself is to attend Miss Lambe’s birthday celebration.”

“I would like more definition to a conflict of interest than ‘my niece has taken tea with the brother of the late Mr. Parker who was Miss Lambe’s ward.’ Would you like the last of this anise?”

“Yes, thank you. It will be of good use this winter in case you have a cough. Prepared with tea and whisky it is quite nice.”

“Will you make the anise biscuits again this year at Yuletide? It is a tradition, Mrs. Gress.”

She hesitated before responding. “That recipe takes sugar, Mr. Colbourne. It is my family’s recipe, and it should not be altered. The biscuits would not be the same.”

“Do we have a sugar cone left?”

“We have two locked in the chest. Mrs. Wheatley has an observation about the sugar we have in store.”

“An observation I am sure she has shared.”

“Mrs. Wheatley thinks that once the cane has been harvested that if we do not use the sugar then we are not honoring those who have labored to bring about the product.”

“I defer to Mrs. Wheatley. I think we would be wise not to argue with her judgment. I look forward to the biscuits, Mrs. Gress.”

“Speaking of Swabia, Mr. Colbourne, I wanted to ask you about Christmas.”

“Yes, it is only October, but apparently, we are discussing former duchies and Christmas? I do not follow. How does this all relate?”

“The biscuits reminded me of my family and tradition, and if we are to travel to Sanditon, would you mind if I attend Christmas Mass with the Acton family rather than attend the Sanditon Church? As you know, I am typically in London Christmas morning, so it has been less a concern in other years. The ability to attend Mass, that is.”

“Ah, I see. No, I do not mind, Mrs. Gress. Would you like me to write to Mr. and Mrs. Acton on your behalf? Rest assured; I am sure they would welcome you with open arms.”

“Thank you. I do try to be mindful of your position and not make a fuss over such things.”

“You need not worry about my position, Mrs. G. While I must uphold His Majesty’s laws, that does not mean that I agree with all of his sentiments.“

“Careful, sir. They may throw you in the Tower for such words.”

“Hardly treason. If the powers that be had sense about them, then our Sanditon neighbor Mr. Acton would be allowed a seat in Westminster. I know Mr. Acton has long considered Parliament, yet it has not been allowed.”

“For fear that Mr. Acton and those like him would be more loyal to Pius VII than George IV?” Mrs. Gress raised her eyebrows. “I find that…”

“Ridiculous? As do I, Mrs. Gress. I can imagine Mr. Acton himself saying, ‘Listen everyone, this is absolutely, totally ridiculous that the most unscrupulous of Anglicans is allowed a seat yet I am denied!’”

“Is it not a form of enslavement, Mr. Colbourne? Lack of religious freedom. I do not mean it is the same as true enslavement, but it is a limitation.”

Samuel nodded. “Yes, and this is another reason that I wish to see this suit against the Lambe heir falter, Mrs. Gress. Men who post such suits against legitimate heirs perpetuate enslavement through extension because of fear and greed. They distrust the unlike and are threatened by those different than they.”

“I hope you are not threatened by me being an unlike, Mr. Colbourne.”

“As a man who hardly attends his own form of mass, Mrs. Gress, I admire your faith and thank you for it. There are times that I think this family needs all the prayers you can offer up. I care not who your bishop is.”

“I thank you for thinking that my prayers make a difference. There are days that one is not so sure. Yet, based on recent changes in this family, perhaps I should have more faith that prayer does make a difference. I do think this family is on the other side of its worst days, if I may say so.”

Samuel smiled and took her basket as they had trimmed all they could for the time being. “I do hope so.”

“Remember what I said about hope, Mr. Colbourne. It is not hope that brings about change. It is action.”

“Yes, and that is why I look forward to dinner with the Piers family. Jonathan Piers has extended the olive branch, and I intend to reach out and accept it. Perhaps it is friendships such as these that will serve us better than attending balls and recitals.”

“You are thinking of Miss Augusta again?”

“I think that if she does not make the most of the Sanditon season that when she returns to London next year, it may not be any better than this season. She may not have any of Alexander’s blood coursing through her veins, but those two are not that different when it comes to comfort in society or lack of comfort, I should say.”

“But surely the Parkers will help her, and I believe Lady Montrose has made a difference already.”

Samuel smiled at her, sitting one of the baskets down on a garden bench in order to pick up a few stems that had fallen onto the pebble path. “I think you are already a defender of the soon-to-be mistress of Colbourne House, Mrs. Gress.”

“You expected otherwise?”

“No, but I do wonder if you will be as much a defender of the new mistress of Heyrick Park?” Samuel arched his eyebrows.

“New mistress of Heyrick…whatever do you mean? What was in that letter that Miss Augusta mentioned? Does this have anything to do with Willingden?”

“Apparently Xander thinks there is hope that Miss Heywood will return to Sanditon. More than hope.”

“I never. But you do know what this means, Mr. Colbourne…”

“I do not.”

“It means that change happened because your brother finally took action not because he stood around and hoped. We have had this conversation, you and I.”

“Was this the conversation about men and women, Mrs. Gress? The one in the foyer?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“Perhaps you do. Finally.”

“Oh, Mrs. Gress, that you did not trust me to finally figure out what you were talking about with all of your riddles about men and women. May we have some tea now? I have a question for you about flounces. Flounced hems, specifically.”

“Flounced hems? On gowns? Why on earth? Why do I ask why? Bereft. You leave me bereft.”

“I know, Mrs. Gress. I know…now tea. How about tea?”

She sighed and led the way back to the house.

“Oh, I did make a special cake for today. I hope you will enjoy a slice with your tea.”

“Does this involve what the French call pommes? Mrs. Gress. Because if yes, I retract my permission for you to use the sugar.”

“No pommes in sight, Mr. Colbourne. I have learned my lesson. I shall never serve you apple anything again…”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

“…again, until next year.”

“Mrs. Gress….”

“It is honey walnut ginger cake. Is that acceptable?”

“It is tolerable, I suppose.”

“But not delicious enough to tempt you?”

“Consider me tempted.”

She laughed. “I thought so.”

__

“Juliana, I have heard Augusta, Samuel, and Leo speak highly of your drawing skills. Leo has mentioned your new folly more than once, and I was pleased to receive the leaf sketches. You have worked wonders with Leo’s understanding of shading. I think it still frustrates Augusta, however.”

They were strolling along the beach. Leo had run ahead of the small group, throwing a stick to Luna, who periodically ran into the water, shook out her fur, and returned to Leo. Augusta and Edgar walked ahead of Alexander and Juliana. They could hear snippets of Edgar telling Augusta about a recent prank played at his college.  

Juliana kept one ear on Edgar’s comments while trying to also focus on what Alexander was saying.

“Thank you, Alexander, I am glad that you like the book that we compiled of Leo’s leaf collection. Or her ‘specimens’ as she likes to call them.” Juliana smiled, a smile that grew broader as Luna backtracked, ran a circle around the two of them, stick in mouth, and trotted back toward Leo. “I think Augusta may not have a natural talent for interpreting objects on paper. I have seen her embroidery, which she does excellently, so it surprised me that she struggles with drawing. She plays well, and her stitchwork is fine, so I would not be concerned about her sketching. There is no need to expect any of us to take to all occupations placed before us.”

“No, no, I know that to be true for gentlemen as well.”

Alexander had removed his hat, and the breeze ruffled his hair. Juliana fixed her scarf as the fringed end was whipping about. She tied it tighter and pulled at her gloves. Despite the sun, the air was brisk.

“Juliana,” Alexander continued as they walked closer to one of the dune paths leading to Sanditon’s High Street. “I am wondering if I might ask for an additional sketch from you?”

“You wish to change plantings or a landscape feature at Heyrick Park?”

“No, it is something quite simpler yet decidedly more intricate.”

“Now I am intrigued, Alexander. What could this be?”

Alexander slowed his pace so that Augusta and Edgar would be out of earshot.

“I have an image in my head for a necklace that would match a sapphire ring that I purchased from Triveton’s in London. I was wondering…that is…if I described my vision to you and showed you the ring, would you be willing to sketch a necklace that Mr. Triveton could commission?”

Juliana looked out toward the water, noticing the spume residue from the waves was circling closer to their boots.  She turned her face back toward Alexander, the feather on her hat fluffing as the wind strengthened.

“I have never designed a piece of jewelry, Alexander. I think I would find it challenging, and I do like a challenge. I must say that I would be honored…I am honored to be asked.” Juliana’s face brightened. “Sapphire? Is this to coordinate with Augusta’s silver gown?”

“No, er, I…that is..”

Juliana burst out laughing. “Alexander does this have anything to do with the contents of a letter you sent to Augusta from a little village called Willingden?” She held up her hand quickly, realizing she may be embarrassing him. “I do not know the contents of the letter, rest easy. It is just that I heard the name of Miss Heywood mentioned.”

Alexander swallowed and stood up straight against the wind. “Juliana, I know that you have not met Miss Heywood. I have asked her to return to Sanditon and Heyrick Park. I have not yet officially asked for her hand as she is currently mourning her father, and it may be some time, yet I know that no other woman will have a claim on my heart as Miss Heywood does. I believe I shall receive an affirmative response to a proposal. I will know soon enough as Charlotte…Miss Heywood…is attend Miss Lambe’s party for they are the closest of friends. “

“Alexander, I look forward to meeting Miss Heywood. To answer your question, yes, I would be honored to sketch a necklace design. Might I ask if I may wait or at least not finalize a design until after I have met her? I believe meeting her will help me frame her demeanor, countenance, and interests. Once I know those, then I will have a better idea of who she is as a person. As you no doubt know by this point, each woman has likes and dislikes when it comes to design, color, and fashion.”

“I know this now, Juliana. I am not sure that I understood when I was younger. Your comfort in discussing such things means that I have elected the right person to confide in and to design a work of art.”

“Very well, then, consider me both confidant and jewelry designer. And who knows, perhaps if Mr. Triveton likes my design, he may find need of my artistry for other pieces in the future.”

“Perhaps he shall!” Alexander grinned and offered her his arm for the rest of their walk to the dune path. “Looking at the sun, I think Augusta and I should walk to the Parkers soon. They have asked her to attend tea earlier than expected. Mr. Arthur Parker wrote that he needs to make decisions about decorations sooner rather than later for the Autumn Ball. They still expect to invite you, Augusta, and Leo for tea later; however, they wished to know if Augusta would attend on her own this afternoon.”

“You will stay with her, or do you wish to return with us to Heyrick Park in the carriage?”

“I have a few errands I wish to take care of while I am in town. If you would ask Quinn to return for Augusta and me later this afternoon, he may take you to Heyrick now. Both Luna and Leo are likely soaked at this point and will grow cold if they stay out too long.”

“That sounds fine, Alexander. I would like to enjoy the rest of the day’s light to see if I may sketch the view from the arcade at Heyrick.”

“Sounds like a good way to spend the afternoon.” Raising his voice, he called toward the cousins, “Augusta, are you ready to walk to the Parker’s? I will return at the end of tea to travel back to Heyrick with you. There’s a brush in the carriage to remove the sand from our boots.”

__

Alexander and Augusta stood awkwardly in the hall of Trafalgar House. He was trying not to look at the gold leaf wallpaper of the drawing room. He wished to erase that room from his memory, wished to forget that day and the last time he had stood in this hallway, hesitating with his hand at the door latch. When he had heard Charlotte’s cries. He could almost feel his head shaking again, recalling how he had made an already regrettable situation worse.

When he had left that day, he wished that he had never tried to make amends. He did not blame Augusta. He could not. She had been right. Everything she had said about Charlotte when she had stood in the stable yard imploring him to reconsider his actions had been true.

He looked at his niece now. Her hair neatly arranged, piled in swooping curls with one ironed, brunette ringlet resting over her shoulder as was the fashion. She was wearing the rose earrings he had purchased for her in London along with the citron dress. Despite her elegant attire, Augusta bit her lip nervously and clutched at her skirt with her left hand, her reticule dangling from her wrist.

Would anything ever change? Would they ever be comfortable here or find friends in the Parkers or other members of Sanditon society, or would it remain as it had been that day at Lady Denham’s garden party where they both felt nervous and on display?

Alexander glanced at the portrait to the left of the drawing room door. He had not noticed it the last time he was at the Parker’s. He would not have—his mind had been elsewhere that day, and he had hardly wanted to spend more time in Tom Parker’s company than was necessary.

The young man in the portrait, with his dark hair, ruddy cheeks, and direct eyes was captured at a point in time that comes only once in a young man’s life. A time of optimism, surety, and directness. The artist’s subject, dressed formally in a black coat with white cravat neatly tied, looked over his right shoulder, almost daring Alexander.

Daring him to do what? To say what?

To love her. To take care of her. To damn well not upset her again to the point that she was left in tears.

Alexander found himself staring back as if Sidney Parker was there in the hallway with him. He did recall Parker, slightly. But Alexander had been too busy at that point in his life. Busy with the transition of the estate, preoccupied with marrying Lucy, and caught up in thinking that he, Alexander Colbourne, was wise and educated and in no need of advice from older men who had also married to meet familial expectations, to secure an heir, and because of society’s expectations.

Again, it was a point in a young man’s life that came once. Filled with what he thought was love and optimism, virility, humor, invincibility even?

Alexander could sense Augusta’s eyes on him. He turned his head toward the house’s front door. She was staring at him, a question in her dark hazel eyes. Who is it?

“Did you know that this is a portrait of Sidney Parker? The middle Parker brother? He died very early this year in Antigua…from yellow fever.”

“He was the one that Uncle Samuel mentioned?”

“Yes. Miss Heywood…she knew Mr. Parker quite well.”

Augusta stepped closer to the portrait. Quite well. I have known love, Miss Markham…but circumstances conspired against us…then he died. 

Augusta gasped.

“What is it, Augusta?”

“She spoke of him. Well, she did not mention his name, but she told me that she had known love when I asked if she had ever been married. When Miss Heywood first came to Heyrick Park. I…Uncle, I was not very nice.”

Alexander scoffed. “Surely not you, Augusta?” The sarcasm in his tone was obvious, yet he regretted it as soon as he had spoken. He knew that he was somewhat to blame for Augusta’s standoffish and prickly demeanor.

“Miss Heywood said that circumstances conspired against them. Do you know what she meant, Uncle?”

“I think she was referring to…”

Alexander’s voice trailed off as soon as Tom Parker entered the hall from his study. “Ah, Mr. Colbourne, Miss Markham, welcome to Trafalgar House. Welcome officially I should say as I know you have both been here before on…rather on different occasions…that is to say, Mary and Arthur are eager to have you join us. Thank you.”

Tom glanced at the portrait and touched the signet ring on his hand. “My brother Sidney. Did you know him, Mr. Colbourne? I believe you were close in age, perhaps he was a few years older. Then again, he was in the West Indies for some time. We owe a debt to Sidney, we do, after the fire and all. I should say now we owe a debt to our sister-in-law, Eliza,” Tom curled his lip at Eliza’s name. “A great debt indeed. But, well, that is neither here nor there, is it now? Come, come, Miss Markham, they are awaiting you in the dining room. Mary should be here soon, ah, there you are my dear!”

Mary floated into the hall with her usual grace and warm smile. “Mr. Colbourne, Miss Markham, it is indeed a pleasure. We are so delighted that you were available to come early for tea. You will join us, of course, Mr. Colbourne?”

“Oh, I do thank you, Mrs. Parker. I was planning on taking care of several errands while Augusta stayed for tea. I believe she will be of greater assistance with flower selections than I would be.” Alexander chuckled uncomfortably. “I shall retrieve Augusta in an hour and a half’s time if that is suitable?”

“Of course. Arthur will return from the florist shortly with samples, and then we shall be able to make our decisions. Does that sound quite pleasant to you, Miss Markham? And might I say, I do like your dress, it is very fashionable. It is from London, I suspect?”

“Yes, thank you, that sounds delightful. And, yes, Uncle Alexander had the dress made this past month while we were visiting my Uncle Samuel. The earrings are new as well.”

Augusta seemed to relax in Mary’s presence, so Alexander took that as his cue that he could depart.

Just as he was preparing to bid them a good afternoon, Arthur Parker burst through the front door, his arms filled with flower stems of varying colors and lengths.

“Oh, Miss Markham, you are here! Jolly good! See what all I have brought. We have such a selection, I am not sure where to turn, but with your assistance we will set our minds to the task, and we shall walk to the assembly rooms to see how well the colors look. What say you? Mr. Colbourne, might I ask your assistance just in carrying this box to the dining room, please? Mr. Chawston, hearing we were to have tea, insisted that we sample a few of his new recipes. I had to pretend of course that he was not necessarily thinking that we might consider these for the refreshments table at the ball, but we do go through this pretending game, do we not? We all know very well that we will ask Mr. Chawston to prepare items for the ball. We owe him much as it is for the extra credit that he extended for the midsummer ball, I cannot say no when he takes an interest in future Sanditon events. It would not be right, now, would it?”

When Arthur finally drew breath, Alexander took the Chawston’s Bakery box from under the man’s arm and followed Mary into the dining room to place the box on the table.

“Are you sure that you will not stay, Mr. Colbourne in light of the bakery box? Just for one cup of tea?”

“As tempting as that is, Mrs. Parker, I shall have to decline, but I will look forward to enjoying Mr. Chawston’s baked goods at the ball itself.”

“Very well, we shall see you later this afternoon. Thank you again for allowing Miss Markham to join us.”

“I know that Augusta has looked forward to this very much, Mrs. Parker.” With that, Alexander bowed, and Arthur walked him to the door.

Once the door was closed, Alexander stood on the steps of Trafalgar House for a moment.

Now we owe a debt to our sister-in-law Eliza.

And what had Arthur Parker said of Mr. Chawston?

We owe him much as it is for the extra credit extended for the midsummer ball.

Debt. Credit.

Alexander was fairly certain that Lady Denham was extending financial backing to the Parkers’ development of Sanditon. Tom Parker had intimated as much when he had approached Alexander last year about investing. When Alexander had soundly refused, not trusting Tom’s cavalier attitude toward others’ money and not wanting to see Sanditon become what he least wanted—an extension of every London society drawing room and ballroom he had ever known and hated.

That was before the fire. Alexander had appreciated all the more that he had not agreed to an investment once the fire had destroyed half the town.

He was surprised that the Parker family did seem so reliant on the graces and support of so many. How many other shopkeepers in Sanditon were in Mr. Chawston’s position? He could only guess.

Now the debt owed to Eliza Parker…he knew that the origin of that particular debt tied directly to the prior summer’s fire, and Sidney Parker’s decision. That decision that had left Charlotte without the marriage proposal she had expected and without the man she had loved. Fever may have claimed his life, but his life had been claimed much sooner. His life and perhaps his soul.

Alexander turned his head to look back toward the knocker on the Trafalgar House’s ebony-colored door.

He owed Sidney Parker a debt just as much as Tom. In a very different way. Charlotte Heywood would not have returned to Sanditon if not for Sidney. She would not have been a governess at Heyrick Park if not for Sidney’s decision. Alexander never would have met her. The girls never would have had her in their lives. He would not have had this second chance with Charlotte if she had not been free to make her choice to return to Sanditon for good.

Sidney Parker’s decision had had ripple effects that no one could have foreseen. His was the tile that had set all the other neatly placed domino tiles on their sides.

In his eyes, the debt owed to Eliza Parker was not Tom Parker’s after all.

It was his own. It was Alexander Colbourne’s.

__

“I thought I might find you here.”

Juliana knew it was not becoming for a woman of her age and station to squeal with delight, but she could not help herself when she heard his voice and turned to see that irrepressible grin and those charming grey eyes.

She stood up immediately, dropping her pencil as her sketchbook fell from her lap. She had returned to the Heyrick Park arcade a second time, not quite satisfied with the sketch she had drawn the prior afternoon when Alexander had taken Augusta to the Parkers for tea.

Samuel laughed, and she ran to him, embracing him with abandon, as he wrapped his arms around her and twirled her around.

“Ha-ha! I have never heard or seen you so excited!”

“I have never been so pleasantly surprised! What are you doing here? Why are you not in London? Mrs. Gress is in good health? Is there anything amiss at Kempton?” 

He held up his hands. “You are concerned! It is nothing like that. All is well! Do you think I would stay in London and miss such a party as I hear is being hosted by the famous heiress of Sanditon, Georgiana Lambe? Do you think that I would miss the chance to see our niece have fun—for once in her life—at a party and wear that lovely silver gown that she never had a chance to show off at Lady Sutton’s?”

“Oh, I think she looked quite well when she was dancing with a certain gentleman at that ball…for the short time they attended.” Juliana could not keep from smiling. “We both know that you do not care for balls and parties THAT much. The truth…why are you here, Samuel?”

“I have two truths. The first priority I have is that I wish to dance with you at a party. The second truth is that I will not and shall not have you meet Miss Charlotte Heywood before I do!”

“You would travel a day and a half to dance with me? I could marry you for that reason alone.”

“You could marry me? Last I heard, you are marrying me.” Samuel captured her lips with his own. Being at the arcade with no one about, he allowed himself to hold the kiss longer than usual.

Juliana eventually turned her head to catch her breath. “My, if that is a glimpse of what kisses shall be like when I am Mrs. Colbourne, then you may be right that the next two months will indeed seem a lifetime.”

Samuel kissed her neck, then pulled her into an even tighter embrace. “I may whisk you away and lead you into sin at The White Swan after all, Lady Montrose.”

“Then it is a good thing that we are in Sanditon because there is no White Swan here.”

“No, there is only that godforsaken Owl. Wretched place. You would think what is soon to be the finest seaside resort on the whole of the south coast would have a more reputable inn than that pub.”

“Now that you put it that way, the Swan does sound much more elegant and acceptable.”

Samuel kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “Mmm…so does this mean that you are warming to the idea of the Swan? Could I convince you with its relative elegance?”

Juliana’s lips flickered, as she fought to suppress a grin. “Mrs. Gress is right. You do talk nonsense unless you are in court.”

“Juliana, Mrs. Gress was the one who talked me into coming here. She had grown tired of me pacing the hall and asking her questions about jacquard and emeralds and festoons, and…oh...” Samuel’s mouth opened and closed like a trout’s. “Oh,” he repeated.

“I am sorry? Emeralds?”

“I was hoping you would ask me about festoons. I know more about those now.”

“I am not interested in festoons. That is more Augusta’s age who would want festoons on their hems. I am interested in hearing Mrs. Gress’s thoughts on emeralds.”

“She had very little to say on the topic. No interest in that particular gemstone at all.”

“Pity. I will simply have to ask Mr. Triveton his thoughts on emeralds when I drop off Alexander’s necklace design.”

“Mr. Triveton?” Samuel’s voice cracked. “Why are you asking anything of Mr. Triveton? What design?”

“Oh, Samuel, so much has happened in a day’s time. Do keep up. You may have to take a seat if I am to tell you everything.”

“Only if you join me.”

“I have a chair; it is you who…”

He dropped into her chair and pulled her onto his lap. “I said only if you join me.”

“I did not think that is what you meant!”

“Oh, Juliana, do keep up!”

“Horrible man. I will send you back to London.”

“You will not, and you know it.”

She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I happened to have a dream about you during the carriage ride to Sanditon, you know.”

“What happened in this dream?”

“I will not tell you, and you know it.”

“Did this dream involve The White Swan?”

Samuel saw the blush creep up her neck and cheeks.

He ducked his head to kiss her neck once more, hiding the widest grin he had ever had on his face in his entire life.