Sanditon Season 2: The River and the Man

Chapter 106

Laying against the horse by the side of the muddied road he had found little covered area where it was likely farmers stored hay during the winters. Aided by an outcropping of trees and brambled bushes the dry space made a cave-like shelter comfortable enough for it was relatively dry, indeed it was enough to light a small fire and huddle against his black horse who had increasingly become more of a pet than a beast as Mabbin had said. The horse was fast, but in the last day, the animal had needed longer rests. His legs and muscles must have been tired with the ground they had covered in nearly four days.

He knew he was likely almost to Gretna Green but the horse had refused to budge further as the sun went down.

A man with a cart offered him lodgings but the horse had refused to stand. He was almost indignant in the obstinant in his wild refusal by throwing his neck around and puffing out his mouth and belly as he backed up to sit on his rear.

Sidney had explained a little embarrassed at the animals' display of poor manners that the horse was only green broke and new to him.

"You gentry sure coddle your beasts." the old farmer commented as he slapped his bridle against his mule. "The farm is up the lane near if you can convince his highness of it the sense in it. You can bed down in the barn if it is too late," he said as the cart rolled off again.

Sidney lifted his hat to him and looked back to the horse who looked satisfied with himself for the time being.

"Within a possible hour of the Scottish border and comfy accommodations, you riot at the finish line." he laughed as he patted the nickering beast. "Lot of good you are in a pinch."

Going to his pack he pulled out his book and leaned against the animal as he watched the weak fire. He felt a strange confliction about reaching Gretna Green. He had a duty to stop Georgiana from marrying Mr. Molyneux but he wasn't all that interested in that drama anymore. If she wished to throw her life and fortune away he had certainly tried to protect her.

He should be furious that this escapade had taken him from Sanditon at the moment it was about to flourish. That he had scarcely stood on his own two feet for days as he had either been astride a horse or hastily eating some food while his horse caught its breath. The only thing keeping him from the chill was the great leather coat that kept the majority of the rain off of him.

He just wished to put his mind at ease that charlotte was well and not harmed from such a long journey alone, and remembered keenly that the first leg of it entirely against her will. Holding the book in hand the leather comforted him as much as the sensible words and excerpts inside. He opened it and thumbed through a few common ones and then found himself dozing off. He had little sleep and the sense of exhaustion overtook him.

It was the bright morning sun that finally awoke up. That and the cool dampness of the chilly late March morning.

His horse had nickered and shifted as it registered his wakefulness. His hand still on the book he gripped it as he looked around to recall his surroundings. It had been nearly dark when his horse had stopped so he had been unable to note the countryside of North England. It was hilly and majestic in its own right.

He never had the occasion to travel much of the northern counties let alone visit Scotland and he found it lovely country with soft lush ground covering that reminded him of moss.

The great horse moved to try to rise but his leaning on the side halted the creature as he looked to his book that he had fallen asleep reading. The thin pages were damp now and he squinted to read smudged pencil markings on a page with a hand that was not his own. It was far more delicate.

"Mr. Sidney Parker, my warrior, my love." he felt his heart leap into his throat as he recognized the script. It was Charlotte's hand that had penciled in the margins such a message that made his chest constrict, He thought of the day she had been in his study. How he had come upon her asleep in his chair.

His eyes flitted to the passage and he read the words slowly.

Out of every one hundred men, ten shouldn't even be there, eighty are just targets, nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a Warrior, and he will bring the others back. -Heraclitus.

Sidney's eyes filled with tears as he tried to see himself through Charlotte's eyes. Her good opinion of him could not have remained if she had kept such a secret of his ward from him again. Maybe she was right too.

He had kept two lovers from each other.

It was easy enough to see that Otis did not want him to settle his debts last summer but none the less he had taken it and Sidney was ashamed to say he judged him harshly for it. But had he not also done the same?

Gave up his beloved for debts?

His mood low he stood and brushed himself off. No...Charlotte had him all wrong. He was not the man she thought he was. At best fighter, he was a fighter, but a nagging and depressing feeling sprouted inside of him. He could actually just be a target, the lowest fighter barely worth the field.

The black horse jumped up once he stood and stretched his limbs awkwardly. He was sore and Sidney patted his side.

"Come now you wild thing. Ready for another ride?" he asked trying to brighten his low mood. He hoped today he would finally catch up to her. To assure himself that the journey had not left her damaged or broken.

He was on the horse in a matter of minutes and he was again flying through the countryside and passed the farm the old man had offered him comfort at. The man was in the yard as he passed and lifted his hat and waved it above his head.

"Glad your beast got moving again!" the man shouted.

Sidney did not have time to yell back over his shoulder. His focus was on the road ahead and where it would lead him.