Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

55

Raindrops shimmered as they pooled, frozen drops collecting, forming something larger and more dangerous as the horse dashed along the country lane.

Sidney pressed the horse onwards, gripping tighter with his knees, closing the distance until he could feel the warmth emanating from the horse. The urgency of their situation had hit him again like a slap in the face. Eliza was here, in Norfolk. And Charlotte was headed in her direction. The men Mrs Campion has employed have the power to make more than one soul disappear this night, never to return.

He had no idea what Eliza was capable of, but knowing that Bridges was near gave him some hint of what she was up to, and it made his heart begin to pound again. There was only one explanation where he was involved. And the feeling of dread returned as he lowered himself closer to the horse - as another second, another minute lapsed.

He had reached a knoll. The lane sloped upwards in the darkness, the hill's crest blocking his view of what lay ahead as the horse galloped through the frozen pool at its base, droplets sloshing as hooves met the incline. He urged the horse onwards again, faster. And once again, his thoughts turned back to her.

Charlotte in the firelight, hair tumbling down. Silver skirts catching the light, his heart in his throat as he chased after her. Desperate for a look, even a breath of her.

A feeling that returned to him, now. Perhaps it would never cease.

The horse tensed beneath him, muscles seized through shoulder and withers, making his heart stop as he came to.

The sheet of ice was visible even in the darkness, reflecting the moonlight as if it were a pool of water, vast as it stretched before them. He pulled back, speaking in low tones, attempting to soothe even as the sense of dread unfurled itself, spreading throughout his body - transforming into a spike of fear that made him yank the reins before he could stop himself.

The horse stepped backwards in clipped strides, throwing its head back as hooves tramped over the frozen ground, horseshoes no longer able to withstand the ice. The horse dropped, skidding backwards over the crest of the hill, and Sidney Parker held on for life.

----------

Townshend lifted the seat behind them with shaking hands, hunched over it until he emerged, a pistol in hand, lead bullets scattering about the floor as he proceeded to load it. The carriage swerved off to the side, hitting rougher ground as it went, and he was sent backwards, landing roughly against the seat opposite.

Charlotte exhaled, looking down to find the pistol cradled in her skirts, relieved and furious in moments. "Is this really our only option?" she reprimanded, "Could you at least try not to kill every man who poses a threat?"

He paused, glaring back at her, "My sincerest apologies. I was merely trying to save our lives."

The carriage rocked again, tilting so severely that she slid into Townshend. "If you hadn't noticed, it isn't our lives that need saving at present," she said, the driver's shouts coming back to them again, "and I will not have you endanger a coachman's life as well. Don't you have something else we could use? Something with weight to it."

"If you knew what that man has done without a hint of remorse, I doubt you would be so forgiving-"

"That man attacked me, himself," she shot back, "and did I not insist upon sparing his life after the fact?"

"And now look where we have landed. Can you not see that circumstances have changed?" he said through gritted teeth, reaching for the pistol before she could do anything to stop it, "No, Miss Heywood, I will not risk endangering your life any more than I already have. I will not."