Things had been going so well, until, well, they hadn't. She and Sidney had somehow gone from I would dance with you all night if you liked right back around to strangers in little more than a week, and Charlotte had no idea why. She'd gone over and over the days in her mind, replaying each word, every glance.
He'd invited her to meet him for a morning walk back on the twenty-fourth, and they'd held hands as they did, greeting the morning sun and returning to the manor with dewy wet boots- and apples she'd climbed up a tree to retrieve for them, herself. On the twenty-fifth, they'd attended the production of Midsummer Night's Dream together, even holding hands through part of it, there in the audience. But after that, aside from a few words at their mealtimes, there had been no direct… anything.
Yet, Charlotte might have been able to put that all aside, if it hadn't been for the unanswered note she'd sent him on the twenty-ninth- or, more importantly- the very look in his face the day of the Musicale. Charlotte had been in the Music Room, ready to listen to the performances, when she'd caught Sidney's form in the doorway. They'd made eye contact, she'd smiled. She'd gestured him in, to an empty seat beside her. And he… he'd turned on his heel and disappeared.
So that was it, then. Some decision made, for some reasons she wasn't to be privy to. She would have to leave it be, because asking Sidney Parker to be someone he wasn't- that was a game she'd always lose.
The morning of the first of September had dawned gray skied, and Charlotte had put herself to work. She was a farmer's daughter, after all, and she wasn't one to sit idle- especially not when her heart was at war with her mind. The only way for her to quiet one or both of those was to stay busy. She'd barely sat down a moment all morning, and it was nearing lunchtime when she made her way out to the stables. Her eyes reflexively scanned the stalls for Sampson, and seeing him gone, Charlotte quickly adjusted her plans- no riding for her, not when there was the chance such an event might lead to unintended encounters.
Instead, she found the leather cleaning supplies, and sat down at a stool and low table to work at the new saddle she'd been gifted by Lady Whistledown. For all of Charlotte's disdain of their hostess, it was a fine piece, and so far had not brought her any specific magical misfortune (as she might have first suspected it would).
By the time she was done, she'd be able to see her reflection in the damn thing. Charlotte barely noticed the growing discontent of the stabled horses behind her.
———————
Reckoning with the realization that his mother had, in fact, had a child out of wedlock – with his uncle nonetheless – had broken Sidney. As if seeing his grand papa’s ghost wasn’t bad enough he proceeded to tell Sidney that indeed Arthur was not his father’s son. Everything had made sense in hindsight as he reflected back on his childhood, but it did not make it any easier. So he had taken Sampson for a ride in an attempt to escape the renewed hurt that ebbed and flowed within him – the defense mechanism Sidney knew best: running away.
He longed to seek out Charlotte, to confide in her, but anytime he found himself in her presence he could not muster the courage. The most pointed moment was when he tried to attend the musicale performances. At the sight of her he panicked and quickly turned heel, hurrying to the stables and out onto the property with Sampson, his only friend these past few days.
So here he was again, lost in the sea of now browned stalks of wheat and the sounds of the birds and Sampson’s rhythmic hoofbeats against the earth. He leaned down against the horse’s mane and pressed his face against it as they raced across the pasture. Sidney closed his eyes. Even here where there was peace and quiet all he could think of was her. He knew he could not avoid her forever, nor did he want to, but it would take great courage to tell her the things that weighed heavily on him. Opening his eyes he lifted himself upright and pulled the leads to turn Sampson back toward the stables. It was time.
But when he finally approached the paddock Sidney heard it before he saw it. Horses whinnying in distress? His brow furrowed with concern as he looked down to see the dirt beneath him begin to bounce across the surface of the ground, a sound much like thunder coming from the stables. Stampede. Looking back up through the double doors his heart sank. Charlotte tending to her saddle.
“Ya!” Sidney pushed Sampson forward to close the gap between himself and Charlotte and as he yanked them to a stop he could see the horses all kicking their way out of their stalls. “Charlotte!” he didn’t hesitate even one second as he leapt down from his mount and sprinted toward her. There had to have been at least seven or eight horses that had finally broken free and were now blindly running to escape whatever had scared them. Without a second thought Sidney threw himself on top of Charlotte pushing them both out of the path of the animals and he held her tightly in his arms, praying that the thundering hooves would stop.
———————
Lost in her work, Charlotte had only glanced up a time or two at the horses behind her. They weren't pleased, to be certain, but they could also be fickle creatures. Once she had finished with her saddle, she'd just go fetch them some apples and surely all would be mended.
What broke through her reverie instead, however, was someone calling her name. And not any someone, of course, but the damnable Sidney Parker, now running at her as if…
As if her very life was in danger.
The horses had reached a fever pitch, and there was a heart-rending crack of the wood enclosure splitting open. Charlotte barely had a moment to move before Sidney had crashed into her, pushing them both out of the way and out of the path of oncoming peril.
She couldn't see anything. The sounds were muffled by his body over hers, but Charlotte didn't dare move… not until the sound of hoofbeats had finally faded, replaced by distant neighs as the animals made their escape.
She'd been clinging to him, Charlotte realized, finally… even as her hands carefully, deliberately, unclenched and withdrew from him. "I suppose… Thank you for that, Mr Parker," because even though he'd called out her name, surely he'd not grant her that same privilege again.
———————
Slowly opening his eyes, Sidney felt Charlotte begin to shift beneath him and he lessened his hold on her. They were safe. “Sir! Are you alright?” one of the stablehands approached them as three others took off after the escaped horses.
Looking down at his clothes he noticed he was covered in dirt from the scuffle, but didn’t bother dusting off as his attention shifted instead to Charlotte. Mr. Parker? His stomach knotted. They were still quite close to one another as he finally stood from the ground, hands reaching for hers to help her up. “Thank you, but we seem to be unscathed,” he replied to the young man who nodded and took off to tend to the others who’d been caught in the commotion. Turning back to Charlotte his brow was furrowed, but he maintained eye contact. “Not Sidney?” was all he could muster, not wanting to take the obligatory step back that decorum insisted on.
It would not be denied if anyone accused him of being the avoidant one. He knew quite well whose fault it was for the distance between them and he regretted it deeply now that he was standing there before her. Sidney’s brows furrowed further still, though this time less confused and more pained. “I–” he started, trying to decide how he should even begin to say what he wanted to say, unsure if she would even believe him if he did. “I’ve been distant, I’m sorry,” was what finally tumbled out and the expression on his face matched the sincerity in his tone – regretful and solemn.
———————
Her hands had found his, the action nearly automatic, though even as he helped her to her feet, Charlotte neither moved to brush herself off nor pulled her hands from his. She had longed to speak to him for days now, but had also known she must surely resign herself to such an opportunity being lost to her.
And yet, the words that he spoke seemed to contradict all that, and Charlotte didn't know if it was her own damnable hope making her think so or not.
"Given these days past, no, I… did not believe I still had permission to be so familiar with you, Mr Parker. The apology is… unexpected. But, if I may be quite honest, I'm not certain I can accept it- because I cannot let you think that the way I have been treated is something I would have wanted or agreed to. Not when we were- when we had finally-"
Charlotte shook her head, breaking eye contact, but looking down at their joined hands. Her words were quiet, almost a prayer, though surely unanswered. "When I thought we might be…" But she couldn't bring herself to finish the thought aloud, the vulnerability in her voice uncomfortable and raw.
———————
Sidney found himself swimming through a mixture of remorse, sadness, and immense hope as he watched Charlotte struggle to voice what she wanted to say.
I thought we might be...
He felt his throat tighten and cleared it in an attempt to suppress the emotion in his voice as he spoke. “Charlotte, I–” the corners of his eyes stung at the tears that were gathering and he blinked them hastily away. “–I want nothing more than to–to,” he shook his head and looked down at their feet, then back up with a heavy sigh, “I am miserable when I’m not with you. I am not truly whole without you.”
Taking her hands he pulled her aside from the opening to the stables near the grand oak tree so that they might have some privacy and took a steadying breath. “The days with the mist, they brought…unimaginable things to life. My grand papa, long passed, came to deliver a message,” he finally confessed, his voice much smaller and less commanding than it usually was, eyes still on the ground. “Arthur is not–” he started, “–is not my father’s son.” When he looked back up at her the tears had returned, but were silent as they streamed down his cheeks and along his jawline. “I am struggling a great deal,” and there it was. Vulnerability. Trust. Surrender. He gave her a failed attempt at a small smile, but gave up when he knew it was folly.
———————
Her heart tumbled with his words, ricocheting against her ribcage in double-time. I am not truly whole without you. These past days had been misery for her, made even worse by the perceived loss of what might have been. Before, their anger and contention had driven them apart from one another, but this… this had no rationale that Charlotte could previously put a name to, and she'd felt powerless to stop it.
She was attentive to his words, even as Sidney looked away and struggled to share that vulnerability. That he was, here, finally, willing to try certainly spoke volumes, and she wanted to honor that with her own gentle, non judgmental listening.
Finally, she pulled her hands from his- but instead reached up, both hands at his cheeks, her thumbs very gently wiping the silent tears away. Charlotte looked up at him, her gaze warm and kind, where it had been fearfully cold some minutes ago. "Oh, Sidney…"
She didn't know enough about his family history to come to any kind of conclusions about what might have happened- but, more to the point, Charlotte (now) knew that it wasn't her place to make that judgment call. "I do not know Arthur as you do, but… he is surely no less your brother for this information than before. But you are allowed to hurt, as well. Such news, from such a source, surely could not have been easy to deal with alone."
———————
His eyes closed at her touch and he found himself leaning into her hands as she softly swept his tears away. Oh, Sidney, like a balm for his aching heart, and he finally felt the cold in his chest begin to melt. For all of the pain he’d endured, for all of the hardships, he’d discovered the one thing that could not be touched – this. Here with Charlotte. Always with Charlotte.
And as his eyes opened Sidney lifted his hands and placed them over the top of hers. A smile returned, though small as it was through the tears, and he nodded. Of course she knew the right thing to say, reassuring and steady like his lighthouse in a storm. “Yes, on both counts,” he said, voice wavering. He wished his grand papa could have stayed longer, could have talked just a moment more, but it was not to be and he had to try and make peace with it.
“It was no reason to treat you as I have,” Sidney said steadily, his composure recovered for the most part. “Please, forgive me,” he brought both of their hands down to settle between them, his fingers lacing between hers. He thought of the things grand papa had said, of the way his father could not offer comfort, and it had been then and there that he’d decided he would never be like that. Would never turn away in anger or in sadness or in hardship. Instead he would turn in. Open to his partner and it started with this.
“Charlotte I–” his hands squeezed hers just ever so slightly, “–if it would please you, I should very much like to court you.” His heart was thudding in his chest so loudly he thought perhaps Charlotte might hear as she was so close to him. The way he’d acted, most especially toward her, had him hanging on her response. He did not deserve her. “I would not be offended if you decline, I have certainly been less than amenable,” he added quickly, “And of course if you were to say yes I would write your father. Whatever you wish.” The last sentence added quietly as he clamped his mouth shut and tried in earnest to be patient for a moment.
———————
With the admission of his behavior being regrettable, coupled now with the reasoning behind it, Charlotte was... more inclined to show understanding. Neither of them were perfect people, as they'd long-since established, and if he was willing to change, she needed to be willing to forgive.
"I forgive you, Sidney," she spoke, glancing down at their hands and then back up to him. "Not because what you did was right or kind, but because you know it wasn't... and want to do better." These words, at least, were not spoken harshly. Charlotte just wanted him to understand why she'd changed her mind about that forgiveness.
The offer that followed, however, left Charlotte nearly slack-jawed in surprise, her brows raised and a bubbling laugh escaping past her lips. But even with that initial reaction, she didn't need further time to mull over the decision. "Yes, Sidney, of course it's a yes!"
———————
She was too good to him, and he would never take her kindness for granted. “I promise to do better,” he said, almost vow-like after her forgiveness. He very decidedly, then and there, knew that for anything else that should happen Charlotte would be the first to know. His confidante. His safety. Shelter.
And though it hadn’t been well thought through, avoiding Charlotte without explanation, Sidney had given himself a small amount of time to process a small piece of the grief that came with his grand papa’s message. He had suspected, deep down, that there was something more to their family. Some hidden secrets. There always were it seemed. But at least now he could try to be properly happy at seeing her reaction paired with a very emphatic yes! answer to his question.
He bit his lower lip in an attempt to hide the grin that was quickly taking the place of the tears that had since dried, but surrendered at the look on her face and the familiar lilt of her laughter. Sidney couldn’t help but laugh himself and gave himself up fully to this new territory – joy. Pure and unfiltered. Gathering her up in his arms and he gave her a small twirl round in their hidden moment behind the old oak and when he stopped he lowered her back down slowly. “I will do better,” he repeated, gently tucking the flyaways behind her ear.