Chapter Text
He’d watched Leonora dance around Augusta in attempt to make her smile long enough to see his niece relent just a smidge to acknowledging the kindness behind her cousin’s actions, even if they did little to soothe her present ails. Xander knew it was a question of when rather than if he should speak to her. That he couldn’t just leave her to endure this pain alone and expect that with the passage of time she would heal herself without any support from her family.
Especially in the absence of a mother to play that role.
He couldn’t help the turning of his thoughts towards Miss Heywood. Were she here, she would have no doubt taken Augusta in hand and repaired her battered esprit. At the very least, Xander owed it to everything Charlotte had tried to teach him, to make his own effort to do the same.
He retired to his study in the hope that the familiar safety of the space would inspire his best efforts at eloquence and reassurance for his young ward’s aching soul. When he heard her steady footsteps following Leo’s rather hasty and erratic tread on a path through the hallway, he stepped out quickly to catch them.
“Augusta.”
She started at the sound of her name but then turned serenely towards him as though all the indignant fight had gone out of her. She didn’t speak but didn’t carry on to wherever she’d been heading either.
“I wonder if we might have a word.”
Augusta heaved a sigh and – after a pause – moved silently towards him and into the room as he stepped aside to let her through.
“I have no wish to discuss what transpired, Uncle,” she said eventually, standing before the desk with a gaze that didn’t seem to go anywhere. He realised instantly that sitting behind it and placing something physically between them would surely guarantee that the metaphorical wall remained in place as well.
“Shall we sit then, in front of the fire,” he gestured to the seat once rarely used but lately occupied quite frequently by his brother, and then sat without waiting for her in the hope that she’d acquiesce and follow his lead. When she did so, it was with such lethargy that he wondered whether it really was a good sign at all, so apt she usually was to contest him every step of the way. He was surely not the best person to lead her out of this haze, but he was equally the only person she had, so he must persist.
Xander cleared his throat and looked for a way to begin.
“I meant what I said, at the inn,” he waited, watching as she gazed into the fire giving the impression that she might not have heard him at all, so lost as she was in her own turmoil. Just as Charlotte had owned in the carriage, he knew something of the agony she was feeling too. When Augusta tilted her head just slightly towards him, without switching the direction of her gaze, he knew at the very least he had her attention.
“You are, indeed, a remarkable young woman,” he cleared his throat. “To have faced the loss and upheaval in your young life and still be so….” he cast around for the absolute best words he could use to nurture her spirit without discrediting her self-view, “...intelligent, perceptive and determined to prove yourself. I know it wasn’t easy coming here, and that being assigned a guardian such as I and a home such as Heyrick Park – both the very contradictions of their predecessors – was a choice you would never have made for yourself and in which you had no say. I know I am a poor stand-in for your parents, although I have tried hard in recent months to be better for you and for Leonora.”
These were more words than he’d ever thought he might be able to string together in such a difficult and unheralded conversation and he had to take a moment to catch his breath and recentre. Augusta sighed again and adjusted the shawl that remained wrapped around her shoulders but didn’t offer any kind of response. He had no choice but to plunge on.
“I won’t sport with your intelligence by pretending that I know which words of comfort are appropriate in this situation, nor that I can pretend to fully comprehend how you are feeling, even if heartache and I have been close friends these past weeks and months.”
At this, Augusta finally turned to look at him, and though doused in the indifferent apathy that her expression had lately taken, there was a trifle of recognition in his willingness to own his personal tumult in an effort to find common ground with her.
“I will not presume to know what is best for you Augusta, even if I still hope to help you secure your future, and play the role of guardian that was entrusted to me upon your parents’ untimely deaths. But I too have known heartache and betrayal. I too have seen my vision for the future crumble to dust before my very eyes. And if it is not too much to presume the direction of your thoughts, I too have questioned my own judgement and foresight regarding the choices that I have made for myself.”
He looked down at his hands and fiddled as was customary with the signet ring that adorned his finger. Drew in a breath and then looked back up at her as he continued his speech.
“Having lived through all of that I can assure you that while the sun may not seem very bright today, there will be yet another day where you’re blinded by its light. While the prospect of laughter may seem impossible today, there will be a time – and likely sooner than you realise – where it will be impossible to hold in. While turning towards the possibility of a different future might seem agonising today, an infinitely more enticing future will one day dawn for you.”
He continued to hold her gaze as he concluded, determined that she feel her significance and importance to him and their family. At some point, as he’d been speaking, Augusta allowed herself a sideways glance to acknowledge him, but even when she eventually opened her mouth to speak, she kept her eyes on the flickering hearth. Her voice came out weary, as though the tears she’d been crying had washed it away.
“Is that what you’re doing, in courting Lady Lydia?”
She sounded equal parts curious and hurt but there was no veil of accusation in the words. He sighed. He ought to have known that, in encouraging her to open up to him, he was going to have to bear much of his own anguish to her in his turn.
“I am not sure that Lady Lydia desires my attentions,” Xander admitted, “and I would no more impose my troth upon her than I would wish to impose a young man you did not esteem upon you, Niece.”
“But you are considering her?”
“I am not ruling her out,” he replied, wanting to make the distinction clear. “I am allowing myself the prospect of a future that is not alone, even if it is not the future that I had hoped would be possible. It might take some more time… until I am…ready… to face such a prospect. Should Lady Lydia genuinely be interested in marrying me, she would need to be patient while I allow my heart to heal. But one day, I will not feel so… broken,” his voice wobbled at his admission and he had to stop and swallow.
Augusta finally looked at him and, while she was not surprised by the information he offered, she was taken aback that he would be willing to be so open with her, guarded as he had always been about his feelings and intentions towards her former governess turned confidant. The glance they exchanged was one of recognition and understanding.
Colbourne bit his lip and offered a weak and bashful smile. “I have hope that Miss Heywood is right about this too. That one day my heart will heal and that this will be no more than a distant memory. I am confident that this will turn out to be the case for you, Augusta, with such a long life ahead of you and still only at the very beginning of your time in society. It seems impossible to me that of all the men in the world, only Sir Edward will be capable of turning your eye. You have a full and rewarding future still to live, I am sure of it.”
“There is a difference between you and I, you must know,” Augusta replied, still holding tightly to her shawl as if to shield herself from further imposition. “While I was a mere plaything for Edward’s cruel and self-serving amusement, Miss Heywood has never led you to deception nor pretended to be anything that she is not. You must know, Uncle, that she shares your feelings. I cannot fathom what it is that keeps you apart.”
“You know enough of your friend’s good character and moral compass to know how seriously she takes her commitment to her word. And if I care for her at all, I must respect her choices, no matter how much they might pain me.”
“But you agree, then, that she returns your feelings?” There was life and fire in Augusta yet. “Uncle! If I have learned anything in the past two days, it’s that love is not a game or trifle. That finding it reciprocated is precious and we must do all we can to secure it. What have you done to fight for her? Have you not considered that for all the effort you’ve put into becoming a better father and uncle for Leonora and I, it would be a waste not to make something for yourself as well?”
Colbourne marvelled that in the midst of one of the darkest traumas in her young life, Augusta was still enough of a romantic to be persuaded that there was hope for himself and Miss Heywood once more. And that she would continue to champion the two of them with very little to gain for herself.
“Though I am not proud to admit it, given her betrothal, Miss Heywood has been made aware of the depth of my feelings,” he choked again on the word, the effort of being vulnerable to his niece still sitting awkwardly upon him. “I will not betray her confidence or cast doubt on her character by relaying what I know of her situation, but suffice it to say that she is resolute in her obligation to her intended and her family.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat but made no other attempt to shut himself off from her.
Augusta, revived by a fight that wasn’t her own, nonetheless conceded to him without further questioning, instead standing to be nearer to the fire, letting it warm the backs of her legs as she faced her uncle.
“You must not let our situation prevent you from maintaining an acquaintance with her, Augusta,” Xander looked up at her. “Over my lifetime I have had very few women to role model, to understand how a mutual relation between a man and a woman or a father and his daughters or relations should be. If Miss Heywood, or Mrs Starling as she is to become, can spare time from her family to be of counsel to you, I would not oppose it. Even if, one day, I come to find another person with whom to share my life.”
He ended his sentence with such a reluctance, as though it broke him to even think on the prospect, and Augusta was sure that his suffering at least matched, if not exceeded her own. Furthermore, unlike herself, he had no reason to feel shame for what he was feeling, only regret that he could not articulate it sooner, for all parties concerned.
“Your mother died when you were very young, as did mine,” Augusta remarked. “Perhaps we are not so different, Uncle.”
Xander ventured a half-smile in acknowledgement, not wanting to dispel the seriousness of their discussion nor startle her by being too demonstrative. “I fear that it is our similarities of character that make us such an explosive combination, my dear niece.” He was rueful. “I don’t wish to make excuses for my actions of the past months Augusta, but my efforts to secure your future and help you to find a suitable match came only from a place of wanting to be the guardian that you deserved.”
“And at Miss Heywood’s encouragement, no less.”
He nodded. “She is undoubtedly at the heart of any transformation in me that you might have observed, though she is too modest to say. Including, uh, the manner and matter of my response in Falmouth.”
Augusta looked down at her hands. “It was I who urged you to take me into society,” she admitted. “And then when I found it somewhat trying and that my value was up to and only insofar as I could produce an heir or come to someone’s aid with my inheritance, I began to resent the whole structure. I should not have blamed you entirely.”
“You had so wanted to be out in society that, in committing to be the man that I thought would make me worthy,” he paused and reset. Despite the candour of their exchange, he didn’t quite have it within him to add ‘of Miss Heywood’ to his statement, and no doubt Augusta was intelligent enough to infer his meaning on her own. “That would make me worthy of calling myself your uncle and Leonora’s father, that I was so focused on giving you what you wanted: suitors, a marriage, a place in society, that I lost sight of you in all of that. I am not well practised in ensuring that young women maintain their agency, but I assure you that I mean to try.”
Augusta turned to face the fire and spoke her next words directly into it, such that Xander had to lean forward to ensure that he heard her properly.
“I don’t know that there is any need for you to do so, Uncle,” she admitted.
He stood to hear her better but didn’t step forward for fear of startling her, like one of the foals in his stable. “What do you mean?”
She turned her head slightly, but did not meet his eye. “How can I possibly show my face in Sanditon again, knowing what I’ve done. What I almost…” she trailed off and Xander was loath to dwell on the ‘what if’ as well. But her needs far outweighed his in this respect, and so should he really be resolved to doing as Charlotte had said, then he must carry on, and not push the conversation away. He looked up as Augusta finally turned towards him. “How can I ever face him, Uncle?”
The distress on her face only added to his own pain, and he felt a need to protect and nurture her, to secure her the future she truly desired – whatever that may turn out to be – that was far greater than any sense of duty that had driven him to that point, in his role as her guardian.
“It is he and he alone who should feel shame and embarrassment,” he replied. “He imposed on you, manipulated your willingness to see the good in people, to acknowledge that change is possible, for his own ends. Indeed, your inclination to withhold judgement to draw your own opinion is a credit to you. It gives me hope that we might restore our relationship too, despite all of my failings and my failure to provide you with useful counsel when considering Sir Edward’s influence on you.”
“What do you mean to do about him then?” she mumbled, once more unable to meet his eye.
Xander looked across at his niece’s face, pale and drawn. “What would you have me do, Augusta?”
She seemed surprised that he was willing to consult her for this, and he was again in awe of the wisdom in Charlotte’s counsel to him only days before. Augusta thought for some time before responding, fidgeting with the tassel on her shawl to and fro as no doubt her thoughts oscillated in similar fashion.
“Should we neglect to make Sir Edward’s conduct known to all, there is a risk that he will do it again. And that his next victim will not be so fortunate to have a family care enough or sufficiently able to come to her aid in time.”
“It is possible,” Colbourne replied slowly, encouraged by Augusta’s thawing resentment towards himself and their Heyrick Park collective. “Then again, Sir Edward’s questionable character and poor behaviour is already widely known in Sanditon. Would there be any benefit in stoking the flames, so to speak, by laying down yet another piece of evidence in an already air-tight case?”
Augusta mulled on this for the moment and when she didn’t reply, Colbourne spoke again. “Was there an alternative solution to which your thoughts turned?”
She sighed and spoke once again in a small voice. “As you have alluded, there is a risk that, in drawing attention to Sir Edward, we draw attention to my own conduct in this situation. And perhaps cast doubt upon my own character?”
Colbourne thought his heart might tear in two at hearing such defeat in her tone.
“Augusta, I bid you do not assume the burden of blame in this situation. Not only were you most egregiously manipulated and imposed upon, but allow me to speak from experience when I tell you that tying yourself up in knots about past actions risks material damage to your future. In my case, damage with which I must live even to this day.”
“You are not talking about Miss Heywood, are you?”
“In some ways, yes, I am. But it goes back much further than that. I do not wish to rehash the details right now, but one day, when emotions are less fraught, I will tell you more if you wish to know it. Suffice it to say, my relationships with you, with Leonora, with my brother, and – dare I say it – Miss Heywood, may not have suffered the hardships they have, had I been better apt to digest my mistakes and move on.”
“And so I should just carry on as though nothing untoward has happened? I can’t help feeling as if I am being somehow deceitful. To add to all my other failings.”
“Those who know you and those who are worth knowing will realise that’s not the case. It is easy to say and difficult to accept, but I wager you’ll come to find this yourself upon the passing of time.” Xander took the chance to step towards her, so that they stood side by side, a united front, and took heart that she didn’t move away from him.
“And Sir Edward? Truly, it is your decision Augusta, your history, your future, your fate. If you wish for me to go to Lady Denham and openly condemn her nephew, have her banish him from Sanditon, then I will saddle Hannibal this instant. If, however, you feel that there is little to gain from drawing further attention to the issue, if you’d prefer to look to the future, with a family who loves you and needs you here beside them, let us spend not a moment further dwelling on something that serves us no value.”
“I am afraid that people will look differently at me. That somehow word will get out and they will know.”
“In the event that should happen, they would soon move on to other things. Besides, knowing Sir Edward as many do, it is unlikely that your behaviour will be too closely questioned. If anything, it will be my failing as your guardian that will be challenged.”
“And you still wish to stand beside me?” It came out as a whisper and Xander saw at once the root cause of Augusta’s shame.
“Until the last breath has left my body,” he replied. “I know I have not always been clear about how important you are to our family Augusta, but truly, you are as dear to me as Leonora, as accomplished as any young lady I’ve ever known, as bright and daring and independent of spirit as any of the women of our acquaintance. No matter what might transpire from now until the end of my days, you will always be part of our family and always deserving of our love. I hope only that I may keep my end of the bargain and provide you with the love and the family that you deserve.”
Augusta had never been overly demonstrative in her affections with him, maintaining the distance that he himself had established when she’d first come to Heyrick Park. Brittle and shell shocked as she still was by her ordeal, she was not quite at the level of embracing him, but there was somehow less tension between her eyes than when they’d begun their exchange and – at length – she reached out to him and clasped his hand.
“Thank you, Uncle,” she whispered. Xander felt the weight of the past days lessen slightly, even if he had his own burdens left to set down. Perhaps he could do this. Perhaps having more faith in himself was indeed the way forward.
“Will you thus do me the honour of accompanying me to Lady Denham’s wedding? I should truly be glad to have your company and your moral support.”
Augusta looked down, as if to take in her appearance and consider how much effort would be required to ready herself, but fortified by the reassurance of her discussion with her uncle, she squared her shoulders and drew in a deep breath.
“I can’t promise to be very merry, Uncle, but I should at least like to try.”