The Suspicion at Sanditon (Or, the Disappearance of Lady Denham) Page 3

  “We are, we are,” Mr. Parker replied. “I told Lady Denham that it is a sure sign of growth—Sanditon’s reputation is ascending, and more visitors will certainly follow. If we are this populated now, imagine the end of summer, and next season! We are building several more small houses on the hill, and Sir Edward—Lady Denham’s nephew, the baronet—has built a cottage ornée on his property. I enquired about it—it would have been the very place for you to stay—but he said it is not quite finished. Even when complete, however, Sir Edward’s cottage and the other few will not be enough. We need to move forward on building the Crescent—which I plan to name for Waterloo, by the way. If only I could convince Lady Denham of the need for it! I cannot act without her.”

  “Are you prohibited by the terms of your partnership?” Darcy asked.

  “No—our arrangement would not restrict me from independently financing the Crescent—or any other venture—but with my other investments I have not the capital.”

  While their trunks were delivered to the cottage, Darcy and Elizabeth entered Trafalgar House with their hosts and Miss Heywood. It was a fine house—at first impression all new, all modern, fitted out with the latest furnishings and fabrics. Yet upon closer observation, Elizabeth noted here and there older pieces—a random table, or armchair, or fire screen—and it was these objects that lent the house the warmth of a family home.

  As dinner was still some hours off, Mrs. Parker ordered a light repast to be served. While they all dined on fruit, cold pork, warm rolls, and cake, Mr. Parker’s conversation was full of Sanditon news and praise. He seemed to want to show the Darcys everything—the sands, the sea, the shops—at once, and to introduce them to everybody—Lady Denham, Sir Edward, his siblings—without delay.

  Elizabeth wished to ask Miss Heywood more about her visit, but so boundless was Mr. Parker’s enthusiasm, that she had time to exchange only a brief greeting with her friend, and promises to speak at greater length during dinner, before Mr. Parker escorted the Darcys to their cottage.

  The quaint dwelling sat on the village’s high street, across from the hotel. Its sitting room ran the length of the house, so that it offered a view of the Terrace at one end and the sea at the other; its remaining main rooms and half the bedchambers were also situated so that as many of them as possible offered at least a glimpse of the sea. Mr. Parker showed them through its rooms, then led them back outside for another view from the front.

  “I hope it meets with your approval?” he asked.

  “It is altogether charming,” Elizabeth assured him.

  “I am glad it passes inspection. Now, shall I show you more of Sanditon, or leave you to yourselves for a few hours? Either way, you must promise to return to Trafalgar House for dinner.”

  Before such a pledge could be given, their joint attention was drawn to a woman charging down the street toward them at full speed.

  “Ah, here you are, Tom! I have been to Trafalgar House and back in search of you. Thankfully, it was not out of my way—I have been running errands since before breakfast; in fact, I have not eaten a thing all day—but then, I eat so little, you know, that I did not even realize I had forgotten until talking to you just now.”

  Mr. Parker’s countenance clouded. “Is all well with you, Susan, and Arthur?”

  “Well? Oh, yes—that is, as well as we ever are. I think Susan needs leeches. Have you found a surgeon yet to take up practice in Sanditon? If not, I have administered leeches before, provided we can obtain some.”

  “I will summon the surgeon in the next village,” Mr. Parker said.

  “Thank you. Tomorrow is soon enough for him to attend Susan. I declare, we cannot fit another thing into this day! Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends, or leave me to assume they are one of the couples you told me you were expecting today?”

  “Yes, of course! Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, I present my sister Miss Diana Parker. We are lucky to have the Darcys here,” Mr. Parker said to Diana. “The Fitzwilliams, the other couple of whom I spoke, had to remain at home on unanticipated family business.”

  “How unfortunate! Well, at least they did not have to subject themselves to the rigors of travel,” Diana said. “Susan, Arthur, and I travel only when we must. We have been here four days and have scarcely recovered our equilibrium.”

  To Elizabeth’s eye, Diana Parker held full possession of her equilibrium, along with a mode of address so vigorous that it could knock down an opposing force on its own. This was not the besieged invalid Elizabeth had been anticipating from Mr. Parker’s description of his siblings—in fact, Diana was quite the opposite, and Elizabeth wondered whether more serious health complaints on the part of the two siblings with whom she lived had required Diana to habitually exert herself despite her own afflictions.

  “Diana, I have just invited the Darcys to join us for dinner. You, Susan, and Arthur do still intend to come?”

  “Of course. Though I cannot speak for our appetites, we shall definitely indulge in the pleasure of your company if not your table.” She turned to the Darcys. “I look forward to becoming better acquainted then. For now, you must forgive me—I am afraid I must hurry off on another errand: engaging a bathing machine for Miss Heywood tomorrow. I intend to personally examine each one, to ensure hers is the best Sanditon has to offer.”

  “The Wilsons keep them all in good repair,” Mr. Parker said, looking a bit wounded at the implication that anything in Sanditon might be less than perfect.

  “I am sure they do, Tom. But Miss Heywood has never been seabathing before, so I am determined that her first experience will be a pleasant one. I have already told her that once she becomes accustomed to the practice, she should return in November—or better still, February—when the water is colder.”

  Elizabeth suppressed a shiver. “I have enjoyed seabathing in Lyme, but in August,” Elizabeth said, “and the water was quite cold enough then.”

  “The colder, the better. It improves circulation.”

  “My dear sister,” Mr. Parker said kindly, “bear in mind that not everybody has your strength of will.” He turned to the Darcys. “We generally dine at six o’clock, but you are no doubt fatigued from your journey and wish to make it an early evening. Shall Mrs. Parker and I anticipate you at half past four?”

  “We look forward to it,” Darcy replied.

  Diana, citing a list of self-assigned commissions as long as her forearm to be completed before that hour, took leave of them and strode down the path to the sands, where she could commence her inspection of the bathing machines. Mr. Parker headed home, leaving the Darcys, at last, to themselves.

  “Twopence for your thoughts,” Elizabeth said as she and Darcy reentered the cottage. She removed her bonnet and set it on a side table in the small entry hall. A looking glass hung above, and she smoothed a few strands of hair that had been pulled loose.

  “Not a mere penny?”

  “I am feeling generous.” In the mirror, she caught his gaze and offered a smile.

  He returned it briefly as he removed his own hat, but then shifted to survey their surroundings with a more critical eye than he had used in Mr. Parker’s company.

  “Are you dissatisfied with our lodgings?” she asked.

  “No, the house is perfectly suitable,” he replied. “I am merely vexed with my aunt for managing to undermine the primary purpose of this trip, and am now questioning the value of our coming here without my cousins. An investment in Sanditon is ultimately their decision to make.”

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam did ask your counsel.”

  “Yes, but now if he does invest and the enterprise goes poorly, I shall feel all the more responsible.”

  “We still have much to observe and report before we need contemplate that eventuality.”

  “All the same, we came to Sussex to visit him and Anne.”

  She turned to face him. “And now find ourselves alone in a village that we had never heard of a month ago?”

  “Precisely.” He
reached past her to set his own hat on the table, his arm brushing hers.

  “A blossoming seaside resort?”

  “Yes…”

  “Without your cousins and without our children?”

  He paused, then met her gaze. His dark eyes took on a roguish expression as he released the hat and drew her closer.

  “I did not say I objected entirely.”

  Four

  It was impossible for Charlotte not to suspect a good deal of fancy in such an extraordinary state of health … The Parkers, were no doubt a family of Imagination and quick feelings—and while the eldest Brother found vent for his superfluity of sensation as a Projector, the Sisters were perhaps driven to dissipate theirs in the invention of odd complaints. The whole of their mental vivacity was evidently not so employed; Part was laid out in a Zeal for being useful.—It should seem that they must either be very busy for the Good of others, or else extremely ill themselves.

  —Sanditon

  At the appointed hour, Elizabeth and Darcy returned to Trafalgar House. Diana, Susan, and Arthur Parker had arrived only minutes earlier, and the family, along with Charlotte Heywood, were gathered in the drawing room. The ladies occupied the sofa and a small grouping of chairs in the middle of the room, while the brothers stood near the fireplace. Despite the day’s seasonable temperatures, a small fire burned.

  “I am delighted to meet you at last,” Miss Susan Parker said upon introduction. The elder of the two sisters, Susan appeared a thinner, wearier image of Diana, but by no means incapacitated by whatever ailments troubled her. She sat beside Diana on the sofa, clutching in her hand a phial which Elizabeth assumed contained salts. “Drops for pain,” Susan explained as a spasm fleetingly contorted her countenance. “Diana prepared them for me. I had three teeth removed just before we departed for Sanditon.”

  “Good heavens! Three at once?” Elizabeth’s own jaw ached at the mere thought.

  “She bore it quite well,” Diana said. “Better than last time.”

  Arthur Parker, too, defied all of Elizabeth’s preconceived images of his appearance. No delicate invalid in danger of wasting away, he was a stout, broad-shouldered gentleman who stood as tall as his brother. His amiable (if somewhat round) face was pink, with small dots of perspiration beading his brow and upper lip—an effect, no doubt, of standing so close to the unnecessary fire.

  “Come, Mrs. Darcy,” Mrs. Parker said, leading Elizabeth toward a chair. “Have a seat here among the ladies.”

  Elizabeth gratefully accompanied her. Because it was not an extraordinarily large room, she found the temperature only marginally cooler away from the fireplace, but as she took a chair next to Miss Heywood, she was grateful for even this slight difference.

  Upon the Darcys’ entrance, Diana had been narrating a minute account of her bathing-machine inspection. She now returned to it with renewed animation. “I tested every single machine myself,” she said. “The process cost me my entire afternoon, but of course I do not mind in the least.”

  “You took a dip into the sea from each one of them?” Mrs. Parker asked. “Goodness, I think that is more seabathing than I have done in my life.”

  “No, no—I did not actually submerse myself in the water. You know that seabathing never does a thing for me. Nor for Susan and Arthur.”

  “How anybody can go seabathing daily astonishes me,” said Susan. “I require at least four-and-twenty hours merely to brace myself for the water’s chill, and then another eight-and-forty to recover from it afterward. In fact, I grow cold just thinking about it—Arthur, do bank up the fire, if you will.”

  Arthur dutifully set about selecting a log to add to the one already burning in the hearth. Elizabeth longed to open a window.

  “Today, I merely rode inside the machines while the dipper led the horses to the proper depth, then brought the machine back to shore,” Diana continued. “I had to ensure that whichever machine Miss Heywood uses, provides the smoothest possible ride.” She looked at Miss Heywood. “I would not have you jostled about.”

  “I cannot imagine any bathing machine offering a smooth ride,” Elizabeth said, “traveling as they do over sand and rocks.”

  “Well, no machine is perfect,” Diana declared, “but I was determined to identify the best Sanditon has to offer. Miss Heywood, I have reserved one of Mrs. Wilson’s machines for three o’clock tomorrow. I shall collect you at half-past two.”

  Elizabeth studied Charlotte. She appeared agreeable to the arrangement, yet apprehensive. “Are you looking forward to seabathing?”

  “Oh, yes!” she replied, but then cast a sideways glance at Diana. “At least, I think so. I want to try everything while I am here.”

  Elizabeth wondered how pleasant Charlotte’s bathing experience would prove under Diana Parker’s supervision. Reluctant to assert herself with a new acquaintance, Charlotte might be overrun by Diana’s zeal.

  “I was hoping to do some seabathing myself while in Sanditon.” Actually, she was not, but Elizabeth thought Charlotte could use an ally in this particular adventure. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

  Charlotte’s whole countenance relaxed. “I would enjoy that very much.”

  “In fact”—Elizabeth turned to Diana—“since you have already devoted so much time to the bathing-machine arrangements but do not intend to bathe yourself, I would be happy to take Miss Heywood while you attend to the many other tasks demanding your attention.”

  “Oh, it is no trouble for me to take her—none at all, despite everything else I must do tomorrow. However … Susan’s leeches will be at least a three hours’ business, and she might need me afterward—”

  “Consider it settled, then.”

  Charlotte silently thanked her with a conspiratorial smile. Elizabeth responded in kind, then said, “I would enjoy hearing how you have occupied yourself since arriving.”

  “Mostly in quiet amusements,” Charlotte replied. “The Terrace offers a lovely view and the weather has been fair, so we have enjoyed a promenade along it each day. I have been to the circulating library several times. Too, Mr. and Mrs. Parker have been so kind as to introduce me to the Denhams, so we have seen Lady Denham, or the baronet and his sister, nearly every day, either here at Trafalgar House or chancing to meet them somewhere in town.”

  “Mr. Parker has spoken of Lady Denham to us,” Elizabeth said, “but we have not yet had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.”

  “That will soon be rectified, I am certain,” Diana said. “Lady Denham has always been one to keep herself apprised of the goings-on in Sanditon. She will want to inspect you for herself, and will create an opportunity to do so if one does not naturally arise. Tom, did you happen to mention to her the charitable campaign I started for displaced goat herds? We have hardly raised a shilling, but if Lady Denham were to make a substantial contribution, I am sure others would follow.”

  “I have not mentioned it, nor the six other subscriptions to which you hope she will contribute. Lady Denham’s generosity—indeed, that of any benefactor—has its limits, and as you yourself just noted, Sanditon and her own concerns receive the greatest share of her attention.”

  “Well, what is the good of having money if one never spends any of it? Of course, I understand not depleting one’s entire fortune—one must retain enough to maintain one’s manner of living, and provide for one’s heirs. But as Lady Denham has no children, she can afford to be more charitable. If fact, she ought to leave her entire fortune to charity, rather than to Sir Edward or that cousin of hers she has taken in as a companion. They are not nearly as afflicted as are many of the charity cases I have brought to her attention.”

  Before Diana could enumerate, a servant entered the room with the welcome announcement that dinner was served.

  Dinner with the Parker family was an odd affair, with nearly every member dining on something different, or individual variations of the common dishes. Susan ate the pea soup—or, rather, tasted it, consuming so little that Eli
zabeth thought she did not care for it until Susan declared it perfectly prepared.

  “Just the right thickness,” she said in compliment to Mrs. Parker, though of course Mrs. Parker had had little to do with it, save conferring with her cook about the menu. “I fear I am quite in danger of making a glutton of myself.” Of the meat, she took none, confining herself to small portions of fish that she minced so finely that they reminded Elizabeth of the food Bennet’s nurse fed him.

  Diana’s meal consisted primarily of vegetable marrow on toast, though she did eat a few spoonfuls of soup and allowed Mr. Parker to persuade her to taste the roast mutton. She declined the port, instead requesting egg wine, into which she stirred powdered ginger “to aid digestion.”

  Elizabeth was begun to think the Parkers must keep an apothecary on personal retainer, when Susan leaned forward and said proudly, “Diana prepares many of our remedies herself.”

  “You must be very knowledgeable,” Elizabeth said to Diana.

  “It requires practice,” Diana replied, “and a little experimentation. But my decoctions and salves are much more effective than those the average apothecary sells. Indeed, we have had such disappointing luck with the whole medical tribe that we treat ourselves as often as not.”

  Arthur, in contrast to his sisters, dined heartily on mutton and pheasant, and when offered dessert, enjoyed both a raspberry tart and baked custard pudding with almost childlike pleasure—all to the admonishment of Diana.

  “Arthur, you must take care not to overindulge,” Diana said. “Do you want to bring on the gout?”

  “Of course not,” he said, surreptitiously using his forefinger to lift the last few crumbs of tart crust to his lips the moment Diana turned her head. “I have never been troubled by gout,” he told Elizabeth in a low voice. “Seems to me that if one is going to eat dinner, one might as well enjoy it.”

  They had not long returned to the drawing room when a servant brought the news that Lady Denham and Miss Brereton had come to call. The two ladies entered so swiftly upon his announcement, that they might as well have announced themselves.