Chapter Text
Later that evening, Charlotte read An Architectural History of Western Europe while sitting in her bedroom’s window seat. It had been a very long and tiring day, and she found it difficult to focus on the evolution of cathedral buttresses. After reading the same paragraph for the fourth time without comprehending it, she set her book down and impatiently unbuttoned her linen collar. Today had been most oppressively hot, and she unlatched the window in hopes of a cool breeze. A thick wall of humid air rushed in instead. Dark clouds rolled over the sea in the distance, and a crackle of lightning split the sky. She would welcome a storm, she thought, if it would temper Sanditon’s weather.
Sidney was across the bedroom, sitting at the desk and reading letters that had come in the evening post. Charlotte watched as he impatiently broke the seal to a thick envelope. He swore to himself, throwing the letter down on a growing stack. “Not again.” he moaned, rifling through his papers. Charlotte suddenly noticed how tired he looked, and she closed her book with concern.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Charlotte?” he called. Sidney had evidently not heard her.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Have you moved anything from this desk?”
“No, I don’t think so. Why? What are you looking for?” Sidney began opening each of the desk’s drawers. “What are you looking for?” Charlotte repeated. He turned back to his stack of letters, frowning. “I cannot find an order summary. From the glass manufacturer – the one with the measurements and specifications. I need it to place a new order, with a different vendor.”
“A new order? But why? What is wrong?” Charlotte walked across the room to join him. Sidney looked truly weary now, but continued searching through his stack of invoices. “The glass manufacturer has withdrawn from our project.”
“What?” Charlotte was shocked. “But why? They assured us the dome would arrive next week. Why would they withdraw now?”
“They write that the work is too complex, and that they must give their attention to other, more pressing projects.”
“Too complex?” Charlotte frowned. “But…they are a bespoke manufacturer, are they not? Surely they welcome complex orders?”
“You would think so.” Sidney’s jaw was clenched in dissatisfaction, and a muscle in his temple began to throb – as it always did when he was under stress. “And of course, they did not tell us this until after they received our payment. I shall make them refund our order, make no mistake. But it will take time for us to find a new supplier.” Sidney sat down behind the desk, swearing once again under his breath. “I always knew Sanditon would be the death of me. Where is that form?”
“Let me help you search.” Charlotte offered. Together they looked through and sorted all the bills, order summaries, and ledger sheets in sight, but the dome specifications were nowhere to be found. “Mr. Cox will have a copy.” Charlotte suggested. “We can ask him for it tomorrow.”
“Yes. Very well, very well. But for goodness’ sake…finding a new vendor will take at least a week, maybe two. And then we must wait for the delivery.” Sidney rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “The men are nearly finished with the exterior, and the building is still not weatherproof.” A boom of thunder rolled in the distance, as if emphasizing Sidney’s dilemma. “First the ironworks, now this.” he groaned. “What next?” He pulled his account book towards him, and began scratching new figures at the bottom of the ledger.
“Are we running out of funds?” Charlotte asked with concern. Sidney was busy calculating, and did not at first answer. Finally, he spoke. “As I thought. We have enough of the loan remaining to keep the project going for…” he scratched out a sum – “ten days. I would prefer to keep the men on retainer while we wait, but...it would require us to seek another loan.” Sidney exhaled roughly. “And I would rather not do that.”
“Nor I.” Charlotte was beginning to feel truly worried. “Can we not write to the glassmaker? Might we insist that they send us what they have completed? Perhaps a local craftsman could finish the work?” Even as she suggested it, she knew this to be impossible. There was no glassmaker in Sanditon, and even if there were, it would take a master craftsman to cast a dome that would so precisely lock into the roof casings.
“From their letter, it does not sound as if though they have even started it. An absolutely unacceptable deception, they will be hearing from more from me about it. But I do not understand – where has the summary gone? Has anyone been here? Jenny or Alicia, playing perhaps? Might they have moved it?” Sidney frowned, then crossed the room and opened the bedroom door. He called into the hallway. “Mrs. O’Connor? Could you come here, please?” Charlotte answered his earlier question. “No one has been to visit in the last week. Except – except Mr. Stringer, this afternoon. But of course, he did not come into this room.” Charlotte was not sure why she felt so embarrassed as she spoke. Sidney looked back at her in surprise. “Oh.” was his only response. “Yes…I had heard Stringer was in Sanditon.” Sidney cleared his throat. “So, he – “
Mrs. O’Connor entered, cutting off Sidney’s question. “Yes, Mr. Parker?”
Sidney turned to face her. “Excuse me for disturbing you, Mrs. O’Connor, but I am missing several papers from my desk. Important documents. Order summaries, bills, and so forth.”
Charlotte suddenly remembered something. “And your master order book. The one you thought you had misplaced, weeks ago.”
“Yes.” Sidney recalled. “Have you seen them, Mrs. O’Connor? Or even moved them? For cleaning, perhaps?”
“No, Mr. Parker.” Mrs. O’Connor looked slightly ashen-faced under this examination. “I am very sorry to say that I have not, Sir. I – I take special care not to disturb any of the papers on your desk. For I sense their importance, I assure you I do.” The poor woman’s voice began to tremble. “I should be very sorry if I have inadvertently caused their loss. I did open the window to freshen the room last week… perhaps the wind swept them away when I was not looking?” Mrs. O’Connor covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, Mr. Parker, it must have been my fault. Please forgive me, I –“
“I am sure that is not the case, Mrs. O’Connor.” Charlotte soothed her. She was finding that the woman was a great deal too apt to take blame for any misfortune. “I am sure the documents will turn up soon. It is most likely a misunderstanding.”
“Yes.” Sidney agreed, but he looked very distracted as he sat down and returned to his ledger. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Connor. Goodnight.” The poor woman left, whimpering a little as she did so.
“What was that about?” Charlotte asked.
Sidney suddenly froze, his pen hovering over his account book. “Langford.” he muttered to himself. He looked sharply up at Charlotte. “Do you trust her?”
“What?” Charlotte laughed. “What do you mean?”
“Do you trust Mrs. O’Connor?” Sidney repeated.
“Sidney.” Charlotte reproached him. “Mrs. O’Connor is the dearest woman in the world. Of course I trust her. Do not you?”
Sidney set his pen down and ran a hand over his chin. It was dark with stubble, and Charlotte was struck again by how tired Sidney looked. “Yes, I suppose so. But…something is wrong, Charlotte. I have no wish to sound…paranoid, for lack of a better word…but I am starting to think these manufacturing delays are not random incidents.” He leaned forward. “Think about it. Our project was progressing on schedule. But the ironworks have been held up for weeks now, and each time the vendor writes his excuses are weaker, more vague. Now we are without a dome at a critical stage of the build. We are losing capital. We may soon have to release our workers. And I have a sense of who might enjoy watching that happen.”
Charlotte was wide-eyed. “Do you mean…Robert Langford?” She had not mentioned either Langford brother since the incident at the costume ball. Sidney flinched at the name, but nodded stiffly. “You know that they have purchased the freehold to two local shops.”
“Yes, I heard.” Charlotte pulled a chair near him. “The milliner, and the… what was it?”
“The clockmaker. But Langford has already made it very clear he hopes to own more of Sanditon. Our portion, specifically.” There was a peculiar gleam in Sidney’s eye. He looked agitated - almost feverish – and, though she did not like to see it, he was obviously enlivened by the prospect of a challenge. Charlotte attempted to change the subject. She found she had no wish to discuss Robert Langford, or his ulterior motives. “Let us hope you are mistaken. Perhaps they will content themselves with a small venture. One or two bad buildings will not undermine all of Sanditon, after all.” Charlotte lowered her voice. “Surely they have gotten what they wanted, and will move on.” Sidney rubbed his chin once more, pondering. “No. That is not Langford’s game. He is moving slowly. But he intends to expand, mark my words. He has a foothold now. And he will fill the city like a plague. It is his way.”
“And you truly think he is behind the delayed orders?” Charlotte whispered. Sidney shrugged. “…I do not know. But we have had a string of bad luck lately. Costly bad luck. I have to consider it.”
Charlotte massaged her temple, thinking hard. “And you suspect Mrs. O’Connor is a part of some…plot? To steal and sell our secrets?” The words sounded ridiculous even as Charlotte spoke them. By Sidney’s reaction, she could see he felt the same. He let out a slow puff of air. “All I know is, the circumstances are suspicious. And if Langford is behind these delays, his information must be coming from somewhere. Cox, perhaps?” Sidney shook himself, as though thinking this too was a laughable suggestion. He returned to his ledger. “You suggested the documents might have been misplaced. Let’s leave it at that for tonight.” Sidney took a deep breath, seemingly ready to discuss lighter topics. “So…Mr. Stringer came by today, did he?”
Charlotte could feel herself flushing, but she met his gaze steadily. “Yes. He called this afternoon. He is in Sanditon all this week, for a friend’s wedding.”
“I see. Is he – is he well?” Sidney’s smile was rather fixed, and Charlotte looked at him curiously, unable to discern her husband’s emotion. “Yes. Very well.”
“Good. I am glad to hear it. And…what did he think of the new terrace?” Sidney’s tone was still determinedly casual. A smile slowly broke across Charlotte’s face.
“What is it?” he asked, frowning.
“Nothing. Only I thought…I thought you might be upset at hearing he called. Even angry. Or that you might have suspected I was…”
“What?” Sidney prompted.
Charlotte was truly embarrassed now. “…hiding a secret romance, perhaps.”
To her surprise, Sidney looked genuinely hurt. “Did you really think that? Do you doubt that I would trust you, Charlotte?”
“No,” she said, hesitating. “Not really. That is – I have worried you might have doubted me…since the – the incident at the ball, with Mr. Langford.” Charlotte had not spoken of her exchange with Mr. Langford after that night, and nor had Sidney. It still distressed her greatly, but she felt a desire to unburden herself. And since she and Sidney were speaking so openly, she ventured to do so. “I…” here voice began to quiver. “…I have been wondering if, if somehow it was my fault. If I have encouraged him without realizing it, or given him cause to –“
“No.” Sidney sounded very firm. “Langford is a snake. You did nothing. Do not reproach yourself. Men like Langford are predators more than people. They will always find a woman that loathes them the greatest trophy of all.”
“But surely –“
“Listen to me, Charlotte. This is not your fault.” His voice had now become very gentle, and despite his earlier look of hurt, he reached for her. She moved near him, and he drew her to his knee. She clasped her hands behind his neck. “And as for the other matter," Sidney continued, "…I suppose you worried that I might be jealous of Mr. Stringer. Is that it?” Charlotte buried her face in Sidney’s chest, wanting to avoid his gaze. “Yes.” she whispered.
Sidney seemed to be considering this. When he next spoke, he sounded as though he were thinking aloud. “A man with a wife like you, Charlotte, must know that she will be admired. I cannot quake with jealousy if other men recognize what I have seen.” Sidney began stroking his stubble again, thoughtfully. “I have already determined to brush off those little attentions given you.” He waved a hand. “I have done, already, several times. They are compliments – to you, and to my particular good fortune.” He suddenly cleared his throat. “Langford is a separate matter. He cannot be trusted, and if he dares approach you again, I mean to thrash him. Stringer, however - Stringer is your friend. So let him be mine as well.”
Charlotte was looking at Sidney in amazement. Her heart was full at hearing these words. “You trust me so implicitly?”
He nodded fervently. “I do. I know I can.”
“Of course I am grateful,” she said, trying not to be moved to tears, “and knowing myself, I know that trust is warranted…but why are you so convinced, please? How do you know?”
He shifted in his seat, thinking once more. “I suppose…” he looked at her intently, and she could see he was struggling to put into words what he felt. “Being married now, and feeling as close as we have…” he smiled. “…holding you, naked to my heart, and seeing the – the look in your eyes…I suppose I feel as though we – we are almost part of each other.” He seemed to struggle with the intimacy of this speech, but pressed on. “I know you too well to think you would stray. But at the same time, if you did…I would only want your happiness.” He cleared his throat, as though he had decided it was best to stay away from tender emotion in this moment. Sidney smiled wryly. “At the very least, I know you well enough to suspect that if you wanted to be rid of me, you would tell me straight to my face.”
Charlotte laughed at this, and a happy tear or two fell on her cheek. She kissed him. “Oh, Mr. Parker.” She smiled sweetly. “Look what we have done to each other.”
He drew Charlotte a bit closer, and she laid her head on his chest. She stayed there for some minutes, enjoying the warmth and closeness of this moment. “Mary once told me that your greatest trait is loyalty. That when you love someone, you love them for life.” Charlotte felt his chest tighten at these words. “Yes.” he replied, almost questioningly. She looked up at him. “Can you not see? I am the same. Even during our separation, I - I never ceased loving you. And whatever should happen in the future…I never will.” Her mouth was stopped at this moment by a passionate, unexpected kiss from her husband. Despite Sidney’s words, Charlotte could tell he was reassured. She could feel his gratitude, his love – and his longing. It seemed to course through every particle of his flesh, and hers by extension. He leaned her backwards, against the desk, and lifting her slightly upon it a pile of letters rained to the floor.
After a series of blinding kisses, his hand moved to the small of her back. She whispered in his ear a very private direction for specific, continued caresses. His breath quickened, and sweeping her off the desk he began walking to the bed. But, still kissing her, he stumbled – his boot had caught on the rug – and fell with her to the ground. Charlotte did not care. At some point she must have unbuttoned his vest, for in a flash of movement Sidney cast it off. Bending over her once more, he kissed her lips, then her neck…then gently, so gently, her collarbone…and lower still.
Charlotte was pulling off Sidney’s shirt when she realized that it had begun to rain, heavily. The window was still open, and water was now pouring in from the outside storm. “Oh good heavens!” she muttered, sliding out from Sidney’s embrace and running to the window. She managed to latch it, and stood looking out for a moment as a tremendous web of lightning flashed across the sky. She adjusted her chemise, which had slipped off her shoulder, and turned back to Sidney. He was sitting on the rug, now bare-chested, and with a letter in his hands. The note was one of many that had fallen to the floor, and as he turned it over Charlotte could see the seal was unbroken. Sidney was frowning. “I am not sure how I missed this.”
“Who is it from?” Charlotte asked, walking over.
“The local magistrate. I…may have asked him for information on the Langford brothers’ planning permissions. I want to know what they mean to build.”
“And he would share that with you?” Charlotte asked, impressed by Sidney’s forethought. “No, not normally.” he admitted. “But I suggested it would be to the town’s general benefit if he did so…as it might influence our own inclination to stay.” Sidney let out a short burst of laughter. “He seemed more eager to share after that.” Charlotte smiled and sat next to her husband. “Open it.” He looked hesitant. “Are you sure? You do not wish to…” he tilted his head towards the rug where she had lain.
“Open it.” she insisted, linking her arm through his and preparing to read over his shoulder. If this letter contained information on how to be rid of the Langfords, it would be well worth forgoing this moment. Sidney broke the seal. He was a faster reader than Charlotte, and within moments had let out a triumphant cry. “I knew it.” He jumped to his feet and began searching the desk for a second paper. “The magistrate confirms they plan to build a gaming hall, and an apothecary shop.”
“An apothecary shop?” Charlotte frowned. “That seems a bit out of character, does it not?”
“Not at all.” Sidney had found his second letter, and was re-reading it with the same look of triumph. “I wrote to a friend in London. William Blakeney. He’s a bit of a scoundrel, if I am honest, but useful when it comes to hard-to-get information.” Sidney sat near Charlotte on the ground. “William knows them. He says the Langfords own a string of businesses throughout England - gaming rooms, hotels, theaters, and the like. This we already knew. But he also says that in each town they have done business, they have constructed an apothecary shop. Why?”
Charlotte had no idea why Sidney looked so very triumphant. “Perhaps the Langfords are particularly conscious of their health?” she offered. A boom of thunder startled her, and she returned to the window to ensure it was securely latched.
“It’s a front.” Sidney answered, and he looked almost gleeful. “Oh, it is true, they sell herbs and remedies of all kinds. But William – again, a bit of a libertine, you must remember – says that the Langfords also secretly traffic in opium. They import it from the east, on the black market, and sell it in specific compounds that only their customers know to request. William has used their services himself.” Charlotte was truly shocked. “Opium? And no one has discovered this?” she whispered.
“A great many people have, of course.” Sidney was now gathering up the scattered letters and putting the desk to rights. He was reinvigorated with energy. “But anyone who has found them out has either been a willing customer, or someone stupid enough to be bribed to keep the secret.”
“You must expose their plans.” Charlotte said, urgently. “Surely the town would rally against them if they knew. Will you tell the constable? Or…” she looked at him in despair. “Will he already be in their pocket?”
Sidney shook his head. “We can do nothing yet. I need more proof. Perhaps I can get Blakeney down here. I will write to him tonight.”
“And in the meantime?”
“In the meantime…” Sidney ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I need information from Robert Langford himself. I think it is high time I accepted one of his invitations to play cards.” Charlotte was struck with anxiety at this idea. “Sidney, you must be careful. Keep your temper. Do not let him know you suspect.”
Sidney walked to the window, sitting next to Charlotte in its seat. He looked at her solemnly. “We must both be careful of the Langfords, I think.” The rain pelted harder at the window, and taking his hand, Charlotte watched the lightning in silence.