Chapter Text
“I blame myself, you know.”
Alexander glanced at Charlotte quickly, then returned his gaze to the carriage window.
“About what?” Charlotte sat opposite him, holding onto the edge of the bench to steady herself as the horses rounded a bend at a sharp pace.
“For not paying more attention. For leaving her with Henry and Lydia Montrose. I trusted them to stay with her the entire evening. If only I had not been so distracted by my own dislike of crowds and constant conversation. I should have stayed longer instead of returning to Heyrick.”
“Once again, you bear no blame. You cannot control Augusta’s every movement, Mr. Colbourne. Think…if you had done so, then the girls never would have walked to town for the parade last summer. I never would have returned them to Heyrick Park, and I never would have applied to become a governess.”
Your governess.
“How could I have been so blind? She has been quiet lately. More quiet than typical. I should have seen the signs.” He let out an exasperated sigh and dropped the back of his head against the upholstery of the green coach.
In the early light of morning, his clothes seemed out of place. Still dressed in the elegant wear of the prior evening, his dark velvet jacket and deep grey waistcoat belonged to the night, and gave away the secret that he had had no sleep. The only relief to his somber attire was the brilliant white of his cravat and shirt collar.
Charlotte felt homespun next to him. Georgiana had not felt well and had no desire to attend the Autumn Ball. Out of sympathy for her friend, and not feeling up to spending yet another evening with Ralph at a Sanditon social affair, Charlotte had decided to stay home. As such, she had slept well and had woken early, dressing in a simple white dress with a burnished tan spencer. If she had not had such an early night then she would not have been breakfasting when Alexander had called around in a panic, asking first at Trafalgar House in his search for Augusta and then at Mansfield Villas.
Georgiana had understood her concern but had whispered whether she should help Alexander find Augusta. “They are not your charges anymore, Charlotte, and do you think it wise?”
Charlotte knew what Georgiana meant without asking for clarification. She also knew that she was due to meet Ralph at Trafalgar House in an hour's time for a walk along the beach as he was returning to Willingden the next morning.
The panic on Alexander’s face was enough to make her decision for her. And it was enough for her to pick up her gloves, bonnet, and reticule in a minute’s time to join him on the street where the Heyrick Park carriage awaited. It was enough for her to leave Sanditon without telling Ralph, Mary, or Tom where she was going.
“I pray that we find them in time. That is all. As much as you dislike Leo eavesdropping at keyholes, it was a blessing that she heard Augusta mention Frome on more than one occasion. Why would she have a reason to as you have no connection to Somerset as far as I am aware?”
“We do not. Augusta was careless to mention the town. I am not surprised. For all her intelligence, she was besotted enough to have given herself away. I told you this summer about her attempts to assert herself…it only goes to illustrate her immaturity.”
“That is all well and good, Mr. Colbourne. When we reach Frome and if we find her…when we find her, perhaps it is best to not speak of immaturity despite how frustrated you are. She will be furious if you do, and I think that will push her away even more.”
He studied her a moment. Her cheeks flushed from the conversation, her lips pursed, her brown eyes focused on him. He realized that he had not stopped to think of what he had asked of her. She was no longer a member of his staff. She was engaged to another man. What were they now? Friends, acquaintances? Something that ran deeper yet could never be defined?
They fell into silence until they reached the first outcropping of buildings and the silhouettes of church steeples announcing their approach to Frome.
“Miss Heywood, it occurs to me that I asked much of you when I asked you to accompany me. I did not stop to think that this places you in an awkward position. Here we are concerned about Augusta, and yet, I have placed your own reputation at risk. You are engaged to Mr. Starling. That you left with me will raise eyebrows.”
“Mr. Colbourne, the idle gossip of the Sanditon High Street does not frighten me. I am older than Augusta, and very few look at me with much interest anymore. So it is with an engaged woman. As I am no longer among the eligible ladies, my actions draw little attention. If I were Augusta’s age, then your concern would be warranted. Please do not distress yourself.”
Very few look at me with much interest anymore. Oh, Miss Heywood, there you are wrong.
She looked around as the houses and storefronts along the street increased in number. “Mr. Colbourne, I would do anything for your children in a time of need.” She stopped. Her voice had begun to tremble. “I love the girls. They are very important to me.”
He tapped the brim of his hat against his knee and restlessly looked around—at her, out the window, at the carriage floor. “Thank you.”
“Where do we begin?”
“They would have traveled by the flyer, I imagine, as Edward Denham does not have his own carriage.”
“Your thought, then, is that we ask at the inn where the flyer stops.”
“Yes, it should be just ahead near the market hall.”
There were several taverns and inns facing the main marketplace. Asking which one served the flyer, they walked across the street to The George. The publican nodded. Yes, a very tall blonde man with curling hair and a young, pretty brown-haired girl? Also tall? He had seen them, but they were not at The George. They had walked toward The Lamb and Fountain tavern.
Alexander turned swiftly, thanking the man in passing. Charlotte ran to keep up with him, his long legs and fast walk making it difficult for her to reach him.
“Mr. Colbourne…please wait.”
“I am sorry, Miss Heywood. Please forgive me, but we must hurry.” Before he thought twice of it, and before she had a chance to consider her reaction, he reached for her hand, and she grasped his with her knitted glove. He practically pulled her down the street.
They were both out of breath by the time they arrived at The Lamb and Fountain. Charlotte had a sensation she had been here before. Not physically in Frome, but rather, with him in a similar moment. The army camp when they both breathlessly ran into Colonel Lennox’s tent. She was here once more, side by side with him. Once more, rescuing one of the children. How many times would they do this?
He could not do this alone. He could not. She knew it. Did he? He had tried for months, for years.
Like those before you, you have failed. Alexander Colbourne could have been speaking about himself rather than her.
Charlotte glanced quickly at his profile. His hair askew, breathing through his mouth, the familiar moles and sharp nose. How many times had she looked at him? Seen him this way. Seen him for who he was.
A man who did not want to fail again. A man who wanted to protect what was his with a fierceness that she admired even if frustrated her at times.
And, yet here she was by his side again. And there was no place else that she wished to be but here with him, no matter what met them on the other side of the tavern door.
___
They were too early. Unlike The George, the Lamb and Fountain was just a tavern. It had no inn with overnight accommodations. No proper dining tables. And so when Alexander pushed the door latch and then leant against the door, it did not open. The door was locked.
He pounded on it in frustration with his fist. Charlotte noticed a side path that led to a back garden. She walked along the stone path leading that direction and saw another door. It was also locked.
“Augusta! Augusta! Are you here? Do you hear me?”
“Mr. Colbourne, I do not think…”
Just then a man walked around from the garden. “Sir, what is the meaning of this? It is but morning. There is no call for this infernal racket!”
“I am looking for a family member. A young lady. She is tall, brown hair, very trim. She would be wearing…” He wondered if she still had on her gown form the night before. “A dark red and gold dress.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up. Then again, why would he be surprised? The fact that a grown man was yelling her name at the top of his lungs on a public street this early in the morning meant that this was a questionable situation.
He looked at Charlotte and frowned. His eyes looked past them back toward the market cross. Charlotte followed his gaze and saw what he had seen.
Augusta. Sitting on a low stone wall near the church. Dressed in her beautiful red gown, with her white stockings and dancing slippers. Her shoulders were huddled under a great coat. A man’s great coat that Charlotte recognized. Edward Denham’s.
Charlotte placed her hand on Alexander’s arm. “Mr. Colbourne,” she said softly and pointed toward the church.
Whether Augusta had heard his voice or not, they could not tell. She did not look up and seemed to hunch even more under the weight of the coat. Even from a distance, Charlotte recognized the slight forward movement of her shoulders. Augusta was sobbing.
Charlotte thanked the man at the tavern. She and Alexander slowly walked across the street this time. Both moving with quiet movements as if approaching a frightened animal.
They had been here before also. With Hannibal.
“Augusta!” Alexander called out as they neared the church.
Augusta became even smaller, hunching over into a cloth-covered bundle. The tight curls on the top of her head falling forward.
Charlotte had not seen this dress. It must have been one that Alexander had purchased in London. It was breathtaking and completely out of place against the church wall in the morning hours in a Frome that was still walking up to a new day.
Charlotte heard her taking a dry, heaving breath. No doubt she had sobbed so much that she had no tears left to expel. Her left hand was clenched so tight that her knuckles were white.
“Augusta?” Charlotte asked in a softer voice than Alexander had used.
She looked up then, her cheeks streaked with red lines from the salt. Her eyes shot red. Her nose wet and her mouth open as if she could not catch her breath.
It took everything Charlotte had not to rush up and wrap her arms around her. It took everything Alexander had not to roar “Where is he?”
Augusta’s breaths came rapidly now. She shot up so fast up that she nearly lost her balance.
“Are you happy now?” She screamed at Alexander. “Is this what you wanted? For me to be humiliated? To keep me locked away, leaving me so stupid and unprepared that I didn’t know!! That I was naïve and dumb and foolish.” She spat out the last word with self-contempt. “Did you come here to tell me so? To tell me that I am ruined. That the perfect Alexander Colbourne has a horrid niece who has lost her reputation?”
Alexander’s face was red with fury. Not at Augusta but at the situation and the ounce of truth that he had not done what he should have in preparing her for society. By sending Charlotte away and not telling her about his true feelings at Trafalgar House at the end of July, he had made a miserable situation even worse.
This would not have happened if Charlotte had stayed. He knew it, and Augusta knew it.
“Where is he? Augusta, look at me. Where is he?”
Charlotte stopped him. “That does not matter, Augusta. We are here to take you home should you wish to return with us. Did Edward Denham leave you here? Abandon you?”
Lost. Abandoned.
Not again.
Alexander shook his head. “He left you here. On your own? Where is your purse? Your cloak?”
Augusta heaved again, doubling over to catch her breath. “No. No. He…” She unclenched her fist and several coins dropped to the ground, spinning, and scattering. Her face contorted. “I do not want his damn money.”
“For what?” Alexander practically screamed.
“For the flyer back to Sanditon. For the flyer…to return home like this.” She gestured at her dress and dancing shoes. “What have I done?”
Charlotte did step forward this time and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Shh…shh. What do you mean, ‘What have I done’?”
“It is not his fault.”
“It bloody well is his fault!” Alexander began to pace. He took off his hat and rubbed his hand across his face in an effort to remain calm.
“No, I am the one to blame.”
“No, Augusta…”
“You don’t understand!” Her voice rose in frustration. “I was foolish. He was leaving town. I found out from Henry Montrose at the end of the ball. He said did I not know? I could not understand. Why would he leave? After all the things that he said, that he promised. He would not leave Sanditon. He could not. I…I followed him.”
“You what?” Alexander looked at her in disbelief. “You followed him? So he did not encourage you to run away?”
Augusta closed her swollen eyes and wiped the tip of her nose with the back of her hand. “No.” Her voice faltered.
“Did he say where he was going?”
She shrugged. “Bristol? I do not know. We went into the tavern while they changed horses, and then he said that he would be back before the flyer left again. He left his coat. I had to leave the table for a moment. It was not until later that I noticed that he had taken his travel bag. He left his coat and took his bag. He never came back. I found the coins and a note about fare for the flyer in the pocket of this coat.”
Charlotte glanced at Alexander. He looked at her, his face masked in exhaustion.
“Augusta, this is not love. If he loved you, he would not have abandoned you here. This is not a gentleman’s behavior. He would not have pushed you away and run off without explanation.”
She scoffed. “Is that what you truly believe? Both of you? You tell me this? Miss Heywood, you stand here with a man who pushed you away. Did my uncle also run off without an explanation? Did he?” She turned on Alexander. “Did you? You never said what really happened that day you went to Trafalgar House. Yet Miss Heywood is here again with you, chasing after one of us. The wayward niece this time! Is that gentlemanly behavior, Uncle?”
Augusta kicked at one of the coins with the toe of a black slipper. “How are you to teach me, to prepare me, to guide me if neither of you are doing as you should?”
“What do you mean, Augusta?” Alexander stared at the coins as if they had been left by Judas.
“You love Miss Heywood, and you will not tell her! We would be together now as a family if you had told her. I would not be here. I…” Augusta sobbed.
Alexander’s face turned beet red, and Charlotte instantly bowed her head to hide her face.
“Augusta, please, it is all right. You will be all right. I know it hurts. It hurts like there is no tomorrow.” Charlotte pulled the girl into a full embrace and touched the back of her hair. Augusta dropped her head on Charlotte’s shoulder.
Alexander took off his grey-green coat and pulled at Edward Denham’s where it was loosely draped over Augustas’ shoulder. He motioned to Charlotte so that she could help Augusta into his coat.
He folded up Edward’s coat and picked up the four coins on the ground. He placed the coat on the church’s stone wall and left the coins on top of the coat. Hopefully the vicar would find the coins and place them in the poor box.
“Augusta, would you like to come home now?” Alexander asked.
Despite her height, she was slightly dwarfed in his coat, the sleeves a little long on her arms.
She nodded and took Charlotte’s hand. Alexander stepped behind them to walk on the other side of Augusta.
At first keeping her eyes trained on the street ahead as they made their way to the green carriage, Charlotte finally gave in and looked up at Alexander.
He was already looking at her.
And she knew that when they returned to Sanditon that it was time to tell Ralph Starling the truth: she could not marry him.