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Alexander Colbourne feared their last disagreement had created an irreparable breach between them. Such harsh words he had said in the frustration of his own confused and conflicting feelings. Had Miss Haywood indeed gone from Heyrick Park? On such a night as this.
Even though Alexander told himself he was not superstitious, he was fearful for Miss Haywood’s safety. Who knew what evil was abroad this All Hallow's E'en, with darkness falling and dense grey swirls of fog closing in. If she had indeed fled from him how could he face the girls? Leo and Augusta would blame him for the loss of their beloved governess, and rightly so.
Alexander made his way reluctantly to the stables. If a horse and carriage were missing that would be irrefutable proof that she had gone.
‘Yes sir, Miss Heywood called for a carriage and left more than an hour since.’ The poor groom was shaking in his boots in fear of his master’s wrath. Alexander forced himself to remain calm. It was not the man’s fault. ‘Alone?’
‘Yes sir. That is, James is with her, sir, driving the carriage. Miss Haywood said she needed to travel to Willingden urgently. She had been sent word that her mother was gravely ill. She could not wait for your return.’
At least she had their dependable coachman James with her. But to flee in such haste and without a proper escort. What a monster she must think him.
Alexander debated what to do. All his feelings screamed that he should go after her. But Miss Haywood was a grown woman, perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Even as this thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it. He must go after her. If not for himself, then for the sake of his daughter Leo and his niece Augusta. They would never forgive him if he did not at least try to get her back.
Once Alexander’s mind was made up, he was in a fever of impatience waiting for his horse Hannibal to be saddled. Every minute of delay was taking Miss Haywood further away from him. At last Hannibal was ready. It was not long before Alexander had ridden beyond the safety of his home parkland and facing the dangers of the open road at night.
Alexander rode as hard as he could, hampered all the while by the menacingly swirling fog, obscuring turns of the road and hiding treacherous potholes that could trip a galloping horse. Rounding a bend in the road, Alexander suddenly came upon an overturned carriage, the horse turned loose on the road. His carriage. He pulled up his horse, his heart pounding.
There was a smart curricle drawn up alongside and a man enveloped in a grey travelling cloak was standing in the road. Alexander approached, calling, ‘I am Mr Alexander Colbourne. I am grateful to you sir, for stopping to assist Miss Haywood. Where is she? Is she safe?’
The man replied, ‘May the Lord be thanked for bringing you so swiftly on this foul night Mr Colbourne. Miss Haywood is here, sir. She is unharmed but the coach could not be righted. I was about to send your coachman for help.’
The man turned to a slight figure huddled in a blanket on the grassy bank at the side of the road. ‘You are safe now, my dear.’
My dear? Alexander wondered how this gentleman was apparently so intimately known to Miss Haywood. A suspicion arose, forcibly suppressed, that it was to this man she had fled and not to her mother.
He felt a fierce jealousy towards Miss Haywood’s unknown protector. No one but Alexander himself should be by his beloved’s side in her distress. It came to him in the same agonising moment that Miss Haywood was indeed his beloved and, through his own folly, she was almost certainly lost to him forever.
To Alexander, the man said, ‘Take good care of her, Mr Colbourne. Miss Haywood has suffered much.’
The face of the gentleman was half hidden in the shadows thrown by the still flickering carriage lamps. His voice and features seemed tantalisingly familiar, but Alexander did not have time to ponder the man’s identity.
Alexander had already leaped from his horse. He ran to Miss Haywood and gathered her, blanket and all, in his arms.
‘Miss Haywood, thank God. You are injured?’
Charlotte lifted her arms from the blanket and embraced him. ‘You came. I am thankfully unhurt. Although if I reveal all that has passed this evening you may conclude that I must have sustained a blow to the head in a fall from the carriage.’
‘What do you mean?’ Alexander placed her tenderly back on the grassy bank and sat beside her.
‘I mean that there has been magic abroad this night which has kept me safe from harm. Do you recognise the gentleman with me?’
‘He looks and sounds familiar but I confess I cannot place him.’
‘He is Sidney Parker.’
‘Sidney Parker? That cannot be. Miss Haywood, Sidney Parker is dead. He died in Antigua, some months ago.’
‘I know. But I also know that by some miracle he has been my saviour and protector this night. If you had not perceived him too, and even spoken to him yourself, I would have concluded I had imagined him.’
‘Sidney came upon me here,’ Charlotte explained, with awe in her voice. ‘He was driving himself in his curricle as of old. I could not mistake him for another. It was he who rescued me from the overturned carriage and set me safe on the bank. When I fled from Heyrick Park, I foolishly gave no thought to which day it was. No one would choose to travel across the moor on All Hallow's E'en. But kind providence sent Sidney to me. And you. Alexander, you came after me.’ Charlotte gazed at Alexander as if she could not believe her eyes. ‘I will be for ever thankful that you came and did not leave me cast adrift this night on the moor. I would not blame you for leaving me to face whatever the dire consequences of my folly might have been.’
They looked for Charlotte’s mysterious protector, to thank him, but he had gone. While they had been talking, it seemed that he and his curricle had melted away silently into the fog. The only horse on the road was the one from their own carriage, with the coachman James at its head.
‘How could this be?’ asked Alexander.
‘I do not know. At first I assumed it was merely my fancy, a delirium brought on by an injury to the brain.’
She shivered ‘I was so frightened when the carriage turned over, leaving James and I stranded. We were anxious that few travellers would be passing by on the moor at this hour to come to our aid. The darkness beyond the carriage lamps was broken now and then by the eerie flickers of will o’ the wisps. I know the little flames are a common feature of the moor. I could not help thinking that they were said to be evil spirits luring unwary travellers to their deaths in the treacherous bogs. But then Sidney came. He was as real to me as you are now. Sidney told me he was truly sorry to have hurt me as he had great affection for me once. I assured him I knew that. We were unsuited for one another in temperament and feelings. A relationship between us could never have been a happy one. And Sidney said I deserved to be happy.’
Charlotte’s supernatural tale suggested to the rational Alexander that he was dreaming. Only in his imagination was he at this moment with Miss Haywood on the moor. In reality she had returned home to Willingden and was lost to him.
A full moon broke through the thinning fog. By its light Alexander scrutinised every inch of Charlotte’s face. Almost to reassure himself that it was indeed her beside him. His gaze took in the slight uptilt of her nose and her dark eyes, with an inquiring look deep within them.
Charlotte waited, her lips parted in wonder. As if to move or utter a word would break the spell and close the thin space between the spiritual and physical realms which had mysteriously opened up on this All Hallows Eve. Sweeping away the anguish of the past and revealing the bright promise of the present.
At last Alexander trusted himself to speak. ‘If that was indeed Sidney Parker, or some kindly spirit in his guise, he told me to take care of you and I shall. If you will let me. Miss Haywood, will you forgive my folly and return with me to Heyrick Park?’
‘There is nothing to forgive, and nothing I would desire more. Alexander, it is my dearest wish to return to Heyrick Park and make a life there for ourselves and those dear girls.’
Alexander stood up. Ever practical, he said, ‘I am sure Hannibal will be able to carry us both. James, would you lead the carriage horse back? I’ll send men to right the carriage in the morning. With luck this infernal fog will be gone entirely by then.’
He mounted Hannibal. James helped Charlotte up into the saddle in front of him. Alexander gathered up the reins and placed his free arm around Charlotte to steady her as they set off. ‘Miss Haywood – Charlotte – come. Let us go home.’
They rode slowly back to Heyrick Park with Charlotte sitting awkwardly sideways on Hannibal on a rolled-up blanket. She found she could keep her balance with her arms clasped firmly around Alexander’s waist. ‘Sidney told me something else,’ she said. ‘He said that my life was in Sanditon, and not in Willingden. From what he knew of you, you were a good and kind man, too good to be running away from.’
‘And yet I treated you so ill I drove you away.’
‘No you have never treated me ill, your manner towards me has been all kindness and consideration. I acted disgracefully, leaving your household, my place of employment, in such haste. In truth, our professional relationship was already unsustainable. My feelings for you threatened to overwhelm me. If you did not feel the same way towards me, I believed the only course of action open to me was to make a new life for myself away from Sanditon. Leaving you free to find love elsewhere. And yet you came after me.’
Charlotte leant wearily against Alexander’s chest. Her weight was solid against him, her breath hanging in the cold air. He revelled in her closeness. Reassuringly alive and real.
‘I do not wish to find love elsewhere,’ he declared. ‘Everything I have ever loved is right here.’