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Time stood still. Only for a moment, only the two of them existed. Even the wind that had been stirring since the day before held its breath. At last, they tasted the moment of being able to hold hands and look at each other without worrying about propriety, for once. Not a word was spoken, and yet so much was said. Alexander lovingly scrutinised every inch of her face; Charlotte was intoxicated by his gaze. He gently stroked her fingers with his thumb, and she squeezed his palm in recognition. Neither of them knew what life had in store for them, but their travel in Falmouth had just sealed what they had felt for so long. ‘A young woman has the right to choose her own destiny’, Alexander had said to Augusta as much as to Charlotte, she was sure of it. She had felt it like an arrow piercing a bag too heavy to carry. That simple sentence, so full of meaning and consequences, had revealed what Charlotte had been waiting for and felt deep down inside. Whatever he had done before, Alexander was a wonderful man, her soul mate. But she was engaged to someone else. Her heart raced at the thought. Ralph Starling was a good and simple man; he didn't seek complications and he had the intelligence of the land and of camaraderie. But he wasn't her soul mate. He wanted to start a family, like his parents and neighbours; to work the land, like his parents and neighbours; to have children, like his parents and neighbours. But that was the end of it. He knew nothing of his fiancée's aspirations, nothing of her reading, her pleasures, her frustrations, her dreams, her desires. And he wasn't trying to find out. Unlike this dark-haired man with a rebellious curl and soft, warm eyes who had defied all convention and hearsay to rescue his niece from a one-way relationship, seeking, respecting and applying the advice of her former governess. What nineteenth-century man did that? She knew of only one: Alexander Colbourne.
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Augusta moaned in the carriage, and time passed again, the spell partly broken. Charlotte let go of Alexander's hand and advised him to take Augusta calmly back to her home in Heyrick Park, the poor child had suffered so much because of Edward Denham. The swindler had not hesitated to promise her infinite love when he was aiming primarily at her fortune as an orphaned heiress. Even though he had given up before compromising her, Augusta's heart was in a million pieces. Her guardian and uncle, Alexander Colbourne - or rather her second father at heart - had come to rescue her, accompanied by Charlotte Heywood, the only person who could ease her initial suffering, having also known the pain and betrayal of a first love. And she would need all the warmth of her home, all the care and protection of her loved ones to recover.
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Alexander continued to stare at Charlotte, as if taking his eyes off her would be tantamount to tearing his arm off. He couldn't say adieu, it was beyond his strength. Nothing could match the way he felt, and his heart was on edge. He knew that this last moment would never fade, because he would relive it repeatedly in the solitude of the life that awaited him. He murmured a ‘Goodbye’, like a promise he didn't want to extinguish, before returning to his carriage. Charlotte didn't dare breathe, as if to hold back the breath of air that had brought them together for the last time. She was memorising every bit of him, not daring to blink so as not to miss a single one of his movements. Her heart also seemed to be holding back its beating to prevent her collapsing when he left.
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Hurried footsteps sounded, a short breath and then the call ‘Charlotte’ in the stillness of the night. Ralph Starling was there. Tall, disheveled - but nothing like the disheveled Alexander Colbourne who always left Charlotte spellbound - and with a look that was both relieved and heavy.
‘Charlotte, there you are at last!
‘But Ralph, aren't you in bed? It's late!’ cried Charlotte, perplexed.
‘I was afraid something might happen to you... that you wouldn't come back to me,’ he said, looking at Alexander.
Alexander broke his silence: ‘Everyone's out of danger, I wouldn't have allowed anything to happen to Miss Heywood or Augusta. He had avoided insisting on bringing Charlotte back to HIM, the very idea suffocating him inside.
‘But Ralph this isn't about me, it's about Augusta, she's safe and sound and you-’ She was interrupted by the front door swinging open on Georgiana, looking haggard.
‘Oh, Charlotte, thank God you're here! Come quickly, Mary's not well and I'm afraid she won't make it through the night,’ Georgiana pleaded.
At these words, Charlotte looked at Alexander and then at Ralph, her face livid. She could only stammer incoherent words and hurried towards the stairs that led upstairs.
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The two men did not move. Alexander was stunned by the chain of emotions he had experienced since the previous evening. Ralph was uncomfortable being alone with this man who, although he would never admit it, commanded his respect and admiration, even though he suspected more and more that he was in love with his fiancée. He did not think there had been any impropriety, but he didn't want Charlotte to be tempted, especially by a man out of her position. Besides, this gentleman was probably cooing to beautiful ladies while having fun with the women on his staff. Let's just say that Ralph Starling wanted to believe this version to some extent, although it didn't fit in too well with what he had seen. But he'd also seen the look Charlotte gave her ex-employer and he didn't like it, not at all. This thought was enough to boost his pride and dismiss Alexander Colbourne. ‘I beg your pardon, sir. Charlotte and I must leave early at the crack of dawn,’ he said as he approached the door of the Parker mansion. Alexander felt a pang in his heart and couldn't help replying, ‘Excuse me, but I don't think Miss Heywood wants to leave Mrs Parker in view of the seriousness of her condition’ Ralph stopped short and slowly turned around. ‘I'm sure she'll make a speedy recovery and Charlotte's presence is required in Willingden. It's been too long since she's been home and I'm afraid the town has gone to her head. I'm sure she'll stop thinking about it tomorrow. Coming home will do her a world of good, away from all this turmoil. In fact, I will also ask that her things be gathered together, so as not to waste any time,’ Ralph smiled contentedly at the idea of finally returning to Willingden with his fiancée. Alexander clenched his fists and his jaw. He couldn't let this man decide what Charlotte thought or wanted, even if she had to go away again. ‘I'm very sorry to insist, but I truly believe Miss Heywood can choose for herself what she wishes. Mrs Parker means a great deal to her’. At these words, Ralph, red with anger, raised his voice: ‘Sir, I'm going to insist too. Leave Charlotte in peace, I'll manage, I'm her fiancé and - ‘. Alexander cut him off, ‘And if you really loved her, you wouldn't tear her away from the people she cares so much about to respect the decorum of your marriage. You'd listen to her and respect her wishes and choices’. His gaze was hard and contemptuous towards this man who really understood nothing of what Charlotte was going through right now. Ralph froze for a moment, and the red that had invaded his cheeks receded to leave a waxy white on his face. He stared at the ground, then slowly raised his head to stare at Alexander and say, ‘You love her, don't you? Is that it? You love a woman who is promised to me and whom I have known since childhood?’ The realization of what he had had under his nose for days was finally bursting to the fore in his brain numbed by the long wait of the day. He had sensed something, but he had unconsciously overlooked what worried him most: Charlotte loved Alexander Colbourne. Alexander clenched his jaws; he could see that Ralph was finally seeing the truth. He felt pity, but also anger towards this man who was reacting like a proud male and not a man with feelings. ‘Yes, I love her. And I always will. That's the way it is, there's nothing I can do. I can only blame myself for what happened before. I love her so much that I will respect her choices, whatever they may be. But knowing that she is sad and unhappy is unbearable. I'm prepared to lose her if it's so that she can gain her independence, not so that she lock herself into a life that isn't hers. And you, Mr Starling, what do you have to offer her? Have you ever thought about how she feels? What she wants? Do you know what she loves, what she hates? What makes her tick? What makes her smile? What makes her sad? If you can't begin to answer these questions, then you don't deserve her. How can you promise before God to cherish her for a lifetime when you don't know the Charlotte she is now? Fervour rivalled anger in Alexander's eyes.
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Ralph was stunned, shaking and sweating. He was both angry at the affront and envious of the man's audacity, but also ashamed that he had no answers to his questions. Alexander felt a little compassion for the man who was decomposing in front of him, sensing that he had hit the nail on the head. But he was not proud of it. He had revealed himself, had certainly endangered Charlotte's reputation and she was unfortunately still his fiancée. He took advantage of the arrival of the Reverend's carriage and Miss Hankins to bow briefly to them and to Ralph, saying ‘Think of her happiness, that's all that should count’, then he turned and rushed into his carriage to join Augusta. She was awake and had heard most of the discussion. She had the strength to move closer to him and squeeze his forearm. They understood each other without speaking, both choked with pain. Alexander closed his eyes to try to breathe more slowly. Heyrick Park would be his refuge, but he knew that from now on he would no longer shut himself away as he had done for so many years. For Leo, for Augusta, for Samuel. For Charlotte. For her and thanks to her.
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Charlotte's heart was beating wildly. She had experienced so many emotions in the space of twenty-four hours. Annoyance, anger, fear, worry, relief, admiration, wonder, sweetness, envy, sadness and then worry again... Oh Mary, why her? So many people need her... Arthur Parker took her hands as she entered the room. Charlotte couldn't hold back her tears as she saw her friend in such pain in bed. She was even more frightened to see the fear and tears in Tom Parker's eyes. She knelt beside Georgiana by Mary's bed, took her hand and began to pray silently with all her might. She thought of the Parker children, Tom, Arthur and also Sydney, a little. She took over from Dr Fuchs, Georgiana and Tom to sponge Mary's forehead and change the sweat-soaked sheets. She became dizzy with the tasks at hand, trying to alleviate the pain that was tugging at the bottom of her heart. Eventually, she fell into a restless sleep in an armchair. She saw Tom's face full of pain, Ralph's full of fury and Alexander's full of love. She woke up screaming ‘No, no!’. But she didn't know if it was about Mary or herself. The idea of no longer seeing the face of the man who invaded her thoughts, of no longer smelling his perfume, of no longer being the object of his burning gaze, of no longer feeling the touch of his skin on hers, was unbearable. She had finally admitted it to herself: she was madly in love with Alexander Colbourne. And seeing Tom Parker so distraught in front of his dying wife only served to emphasise how short life was. Charlotte pulled herself together and went to change the water. When she returned to the room, something had changed, the atmosphere was less heavy, more breathable: Mary had opened her eyes. Dr Fuchs was smiling at last; she had been saved and Tom was already smothering her with love.
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Ralph had followed the Hankins into the house. He had stayed in the living room by the fire for hours. He was unable to eat despite what the servants had brought. He didn't turn round when he heard footsteps coming towards him. But he guessed that Charlotte was there. He also guessed what she was going to say to him. He was now ready to hear her. To free her, to let her decide for herself. This man was right, love could be synonymous with giving up. Charlotte had chosen, and it wasn't him. What would their lives be like in a loveless marriage? He left the salon, Trafalgar House, Sanditon. He left Charlotte hoping that his heart would find the woman who could love him back.
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Long after sunrise, after chatting with Mary, tired but very much alive, smiling again at the brightening of life, Charlotte's heart was lighter. She had confessed her love for Alexander in front of Ralph, in front of Mary, and her approval was worth its weight in gold. She was sad to have broken Ralph's heart that night, but she was convinced that it was the best solution for them both, before they were locked into an unhappy marriage. She hoped that her parents would trust her, that they would know that she had not broken this engagement out of futility but out of love. She hastily got ready to meet Alexander at Heyrick Park. She was almost jumping up and down on the way. She was smiling so much that her cheeks ached. She was a little taken aback when Mrs Wheatley told her that he had gone to the moors riding Hannibal. She didn't leave a message as she wanted to speak to him in person. She asked to see Augusta, but she was still asleep. Nevertheless, Mrs Wheatley was able to confirm that she had stopped crying since her return from Falmouth. Charlotte was a little disappointed not to be able to talk to Leo, went into town with Samuel and Susan to buy Augusta's favourite cake to cheer her up. After waiting an hour, she resolved to set off again towards Sanditon, hoping to meet the handsome rider who was occupying all her thoughts. She walked to the cliffs, sat down on the grass and leaned against a rock. The sound of the waves lulled her to sleep, as the last few hours had not been very restful. Tiredness numbed her senses, and she gradually dozed off. She let the breeze envelop her as the sun touched her face. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Alexander stroking her cheek. What gentleness, what tenderness, what wonder it was! And that scent, oh lord, she could almost smell it close to her face, so intoxicating. She smiled at the thought of seeing Alexander again soon... ‘Charlotte,’ she heard. Had she been dreaming? ‘Charlotte’ was repeated softly. She gasped and fell backwards onto the grass, opening her eyes in surprise. He was there. Alexander Colbourne was in front of her, down on one knee, smiling, looking at her with gentleness, love and hope. Hannibal was whinnying behind him; she hadn't heard them approaching. Slowly, she touched Alexander's sleeve with her fingertips, she wasn't dreaming. Her smile widened and she burst out laughing. He was very real in front of her and, this time, nothing would separate them. He held out his hand to help her up and, once on her feet, she threw herself into his arms. She kissed him without restraint, trying to make it clear that she was no longer engaged, mingling her tears of joy with the hot kisses she had been holding back for so long. It was the answer he had been hoping for, waiting for. Her response was even more ardent. A new journey had begun.
‘A young woman has the right to choose her own destiny’. She had chosen him; they had chosen each other. And nothing and no-one would change that.