Sanditon: A Sisterhood Forms

4

Charlotte Heywood stood deep in thought before a window in the room she shared with her sister, Alison, the summer breeze wafting up to her face, the floorboards creaking slightly as she swayed with uncertainty, a letter fluttering about in her hands.

For the past two weeks, she had been at home, surrounded by her brothers and sisters, and thinking less of the life she had lived just days earlier. She had been determined to leave it in the past, at least for a time, until she did not react so acutely - had been waiting for the day when her heart did not leap into her throat at the very thought of Sanditon and the people in it, but that day had yet to come.

"Charlotte!" Her mother's voice sounded distant as she shouted from an outbuilding, and a second, more urgent call brought her further out of her reverie.

"Yes?" she called through the window, nearly dropping the letter as another waft of air whirled into the room.

"The cow has escaped again!" came the now exasperated voice as she noticed two of her brothers running towards the particularly problematic stretch of fence that bordered one of many pastures at the Heywood estate.

"Yes, I'm coming!" She folded the letter quickly, sliding it into her apron pocket as she ran down the stairs, dreading the task ahead. Their Ayrshire had mastered escaping the pasture despite efforts to repair the fences that summer, and yet again, Daisy had bested them. Weren't cows supposed to be dim? And yet, Daisy's stubbornness and strength kept her rooted in place, not responding even to dogs nipping at her hind legs or the promise of food. She stood her ground, lowing in annoyance at Charlotte and her siblings' efforts, refusing to move an inch until she decided otherwise.

On this occasion, Daisy was safely in her stall within the hour, ready to be milked, and the Heywood siblings were able to set about their usual schedule of chores, of which they were significantly delayed in finishing.

After yet another chaotic dinner with the Heywood children - "it's like herding cats!" - her mother had yelled across the room over the noise, Charlotte sat quietly, no longer engaged in the conversation as she observed her mother sitting across the table for little moments before hopping up to help one of the children or to fetch something from the kitchen.

"Mother, may I ask you something?" Charlotte asked as they did the washing up after dinner, Alison and the children having gone upstairs to begin the arduous task of preparing their youngest siblings for bed.

"Yes, of course," her mother said, turning away from her to fetch more of the dishes.

"Is this the sort of life you had always envisioned? When you were younger?" she asked, her heart unexpectedly leaping into her throat.

Her mother froze mid-reach, hovering over a set of plates, "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean - have you ever wished for more than a life in the country?" she elaborated, feeling flushed and beginning to wish she hadn't said a word.

Her mother began to move again, as if she had just calculated how many seconds had been lost and must make up the time, and it did not escape Charlotte that a slight smile had spread upon her face, almost wistful, "There was a time, I suppose, when I had dreamed for a life away from all of this, but could you honestly blame me for it?"

Charlotte smiled, "What prevented you?"

"Well, your father prevented us both from ever leaving Willingden. He never cared to have a house in the city, let alone leave the estate, and as soon as you all came along, well, there was no chance of it."

"I see," Charlotte said, biting her lip.

"But, my dear, I do not have any honest regret in this world, for I met your father and have had a life with him, a joyous life at that. You cannot help who you fall in love with, but if you are so fortunate as to have love in your marriage, the rest doesn't seem to matter. To love is to sacrifice, sometimes a great deal, but I would not change it if it meant a life with your father, and you, and well, all the rest of the brood, I suppose." she said with a wink.

"I received a letter today," she revealed at last, "from a rather important lady with whom I formed an acquaintance over the summer"

"Oh?" asked her mother, "and who, pray, is this fine lady?"

"Lady Worcester," she said, and a plate slipped from her mother's grasp, crashing to the floor.

"Oh!" she cried, reaching for a cloth to pick up the shards porcelain. "Lady Worcester, y-you said?"

"Yes, Lady Susan Worcester." Charlotte said, kneeling down next to her mother to help.

"Ohhhh my stars," her mother whispered in disbelief.

"What is it? Are you acquainted with her?"

Her mother emitted a laugh before she could help it, "No, Charlotte, I am not. It is not a common occurrence for our sort to be in similar company as Lady Worcester."

"She is very kind, and, well, she wrote to me, you see," she said, reaching for the letter in her pocket. "She wishes for me to visit her in London, to stay as her companion, in fact, but I'm not so sure I should leave again so soon. I've only just arrived and what would the children think?"

"Charlotte?" her mother asked, looking over the letter, "I believe that Lady Worcester is the sort of person that one would not deign to say no to. If she asks a young lady to visit her for a time, she visits."

"Oh," said Charlotte, "I hadn't realised that she was quite so, well, regal, I suppose."

"Yes, I have heard that she is a very down to earth sort," said her mother, "but, my dear, if you are craving more adventure, I believe that the opportunity has presented itself. Do this while you are young, because one day you might be standing exactly where I am now, and though I wouldn't rather be anywhere else, well - fond memories of a time in London could be the very thing that gets you through the day when you have a dozen children to look after."

"I suppose that means I shall write to her."

"Yes, I suppose you shall, and allow me to break the news to your father. He will not be pleased for you to go again so soon, but he will understand. If I have learned one thing in all the years I've known him, it is how to talk him 'round."