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Lord, Sidney was tired. Tired of his brother. Tired of hearing the word ‘No!’ phrased politely with thinly veiled rudeness as ‘Sorry, Mr. Parker, but I am afraid it is not possible for us to extend a loan to you at this time”. Honestly, he would have preferred that they had simply told him to bugger off. Most of all, he was just plain tired, exhausted to the bone really. It had been four days of begging every bank he could think of with his hat literally in his hand. Looking back at his life, it seemed like humiliation and loss were the only constant factors.
Flashes of Charlotte smiling expectantly at him made his stomach drop. She had looked so happy when he had met her at the balcony, and so understanding when he had departed for London. He did not deserve her. His eyes returned to the short missive in his hand, bile rose in his throat.
Darling Sidney,
The offer still stands. You know the terms – would it really be so bad?
Yours always,
Eliza
Yes, the banks had not been the only doors he’d knocked on. Of course, it had been naïve of him to think for one minute that Eliza would be willing to help him out without strings attached, certainly not with his brother involved. But as days went, he was running out of other options faster than a stallion could bolt. Charlotte appeared before his eyes again, her eyes fluttering shut while he closed in to kiss her on the cliff road. If only he had proposed to her before he had gone. If only, if only, if only. In fact, those two words were the last member of the miserable trio that made out his entire existence. Humiliation, loss and if only.
Pulling himself enough together to stand and go to the drinks cabinet, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and pulled off the cork with his teeth. Not bothering to find a glass, he just put it to his lips and drank. Maybe if he finished the entire bottle, he could say Mrs. Parker about the wrong woman without feeling the urge to rip his heart out and toss it into the fire.
***
“Mr. Parker!” The voice sounded distant, yet insistent.
“Leave me alone, Brackett. It’s rudely early,” Sidney tried to push his butler’s hand off his shoulder without opening his eyes.
“It is past noon, Sir. Hardly rudely early. There is a note for you. The messenger boy said it was urgent.” Said note was pushed into Sidney’s hand. “I’ll bring you coffee and start a bath.”
Grunting several insults Brackett had definitely not deserved, Sidney tried to sit upright without losing the expensive, liquid content of his stomach. It took quite a minute to adjust his eyes to the light of the daylight that Brackett had so brutally let in to the study. Another minute or two to focus on the words.
Be at Cabbott Bank at 3.
Sir E. Simmons
Sidney read the 8 words at least a dozen times and they still did not make sense. He had been there only two days ago and the front manager had all but laughed at his request to see the man carrying the name on the note.
“Brackett,” he hollered. “I need a bath and a shave!”
“Yes, you do, Mr. Parker. And it so happens that both are ready now,” his butler’s response came dryly from the hallway.
As he allowed his valet to pamper him with bath oils and damp towels, Sidney tried his damnedest to figure out why the hell Sir Simmons had summoned him to his bank. No matter what scenario his hungover brain could come up with it seemed unlikely that the outcome could be even the slightest positive. Was Eliza or her late husband a relative? Was this another one of her schemes? Slapping cologne on his neck, he supposed he was about to find out.
***
Dressed in his best suit, Sidney was clutching his cane to keep his hands from shaking as a young man led him up flights of stairs and down long corridors to a set of imposing double doors that opened when they were within a few feet. The office was enormous, dominated by a monstruous, rather ugly desk. All the vulgar grandeur was a stark contrast to a tiny man standing with his back to his guest, looking out the window, seemingly lost in thought.
“Sir Simmons,” Sidney greeted politely.
“Ah, Mr. Parker!” The man turned around and looked Sidney up and down as if he tried to establish why he was found worthy of being inside his bank. “Sit.”
Not much for manners, Sidney thought to himself and did as commanded.
Sir Simmons shuffled some papers on his desk, mumbling to himself. “You are in need of a loan, Mr. Parker.” It was not a question, merely a bored statement.
“I am.” Sidney decided it was best to keep his part of the conversation to a bare minimum until he knew what the hell was going on.
“Well, Cabbott Bank would be delighted to provide with such.” It could not have been uttered in a tone indicating more how untrue that statement was.
Sidney almost missed the tremor in the other man’s voice but only almost. “While I am pleased, of course, of the change of outcome, I do not quite understand. Your manager seemed quite unequivocally dismissive the day before last.”
For the first time, Sir Simmons met Sidney’s eyes. They were beady and cold. “Apparently, you have very powerful friends, Mr. Parker.”
Even more confused, Sidney leaned forward. “Who?”
“I am afraid I am not at liberty to say.” There was an odd mixture of annoyance and fear in the man’s voice. Interesting.
Sidney scratched his clean-shaved jaw. “Should I be concerned about the motifs of these powerful friends?”
“I cannot say. I do not know their relation to you.” Simmons shrugged his shoulders and straightened a stack of papers.
“Very well. Can you at least tell me if I risk unknowingly to be tainted by association, criminally?” Things were getting stranger and stranger.
The question clearly upset Simmons. “I can assure you, Mr. Parker, that we are not that kind of bank. Our clients are esteemed members of the highest echelon of our society.” A small vein throbbed dangerously at his temple.
“So, you know this friend of mine?” Sidney made air quotes.
“I do.”
“You know who they are then?” Sidney had to fight to keep his rear rooted in the seat, he wanted to pace the room, maybe give the little man a good shake.
“We already established that. I am--”
“Not at liberty to say. Yes, I heard that part. It didn’t say anything about your knowledge of the person or persons, though.” Why the fuck, he couldn’t resist poking the man who looked increasingly frustrated, he could not say. Maybe it was the hangover.
“Just take the loan, Mr. Parker. I assure you the terms are more than favourable.” Simmons looked and sounded exasperated as he threw his arms into the air. “Unless you’ve managed to secure the loan elsewhere.” They both knew that was not case.
“Oh, I’ll take the loan. Can I ask you a small favour, Sir Simmons?” Sidney crossed one leg over the other.
“If it is in my power and will get you out of here, sure.” Simmons pushed the documents over and pointed with a bony finger where he wanted Sidney to sign and initial.
“Since you are not at liberty to reveal the names of my benefactors...” Sidney’s eyes ran expertly over the pages before signing and initialling, “...perhaps you would be so kind as to pass on my gratitude to them?” He looked up before scrawling his signature one final time.
“Certainly. Have a grand day, Mr. Parker.” Sir Simmons returned to his position in front of the window, signalling the audience was over.
Sidney didn’t bother to say goodbye, just picked up his copy of the loan documents and left. Once again, the doors opened as he neared them.
***
Back at Bedford Place, Sidney had a tray brought into his office. The documents lay on a side table, perfectly, mat white against the dark, polished surface. As he chewed his sandwich and sipped the scalding hot coffee, he glanced at the papers, trying to wrap his brain around the events of the past days, and the last few hours in particular.
It was the worst kind of torture. On one hand, it allowed him to finish the conversation with Charlotte. On the other hand, he was absolutely positive he would be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things did not magically fall so perfectly into place like they had today without it being the devil disguised as a guardian angel. Could he submit Charlotte to a fate he did not even grasp the concept of?
Part of him wanted to rush post haste to Sanditon and take her in his arms and kiss her until she quivered delightfully with desire and he had to turn his hip towards her to keep his erection from prodding her. Like he had at the cliff road. But the sensible (here he had to laugh at the memory of her characterisation of him) and control-seeking dominant part of him needed to stay in London and find out who was responsible for this sudden Hail Mary.
He stood and picked up the pages, scanning them carefully for clues. Of course, there were none. Sitting down at his desk, he pulled out a fresh piece of paper and started listing the people with even remotely power to pull off a rescue mission like this.
Eliza. While she was certainly wealthy enough to obtain that kind of power, he sincerely doubted she would have bestowed such generosity upon him with no strings attached.
Babington. What his old friend lacked in size of fortune; he might have the contacts to do something. What spoke against it was that Babington did not have it him to play tricks like this. He would have come by with a big, happy grin and informed him of the plan.
That left him with one option only. Crowe. Despite having known Crowe for most of his life, Sidney really didn’t know that much about him or his family. The man had an air of nonchalant indifference and strong disdain for any kind of authority. On top of that he was without a doubt the most intelligent man Sidney had ever met. Putting the quill back into its holder, Sidney looked at the short list of names. Yes, Crowe was the best candidate.
He pulled out his pocket watch. The hour was late but far too soon for Crowe to be at White’s. A deep yawn surprised him and he to admit that as much as he wanted to interrogate Crowe, he needed sleep more – and even the most superficial questioning would mean more alcohol than he could stomach at present. No, he better control his curiosity and crawl to bed. But first a solid meal. Hopefully, cook had made stew.
His musings and growling stomach were interrupted by a knock on the door, easily identified as Brackett’s. “Yes, Brackett,” he answered.
“Miss Heywood is here to see you, Sir.” Brackett send him a warning look before stepping aside to let in Sidney’s guest. He gave Sidney one more admonishing look before walking away, leaving the door chaperoningly ajar.
Only then, did Brackett’s words resonate with him. Charlotte was here. His heart did a happy somersault, releasing butterflies gleefully. Completely caught by surprise, he did the only – to him – logical thing. He scolded her. “What are you doing here, Charlotte? Does Tom know? What were you thinking? Have you even noticed how late it is? How did you get here? Tell me, you didn’t walk! London is not a safe place for a young woman from Willingden.” With rapid fire he threw questions at her.
Most unlike her, she waited patiently for him to stop. A smile playing at her lips. Finally, he ran dry and looked at her, cocking an eyebrow.
“Are you quite done, Mr. Parker?” she asked sweetly and started pulling off her gloves, loosening one finger at a time.
“For now,” he growled, trying hard to send message to his cock not to be overly excited over a lady removing her gloves. Even if said woman was Charlotte. It was a lost battle the second she took off her bonnet and shook her curls lose. With delicate movements she began to unbutton her spencer, her delicate fingers dancing over her bosom and he had to address his attention to a shelf of books on economics. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that her dress was new and very stylish. And expensive. Good God, was she here to tell him that some lucky bastard with a fortune had snatched her right before him?
“I came to help you, Sidney. It did not seem fair that you had to clean up this mess alone.” She sauntered over to his drinks cabinet and examined the bottles before choosing a Portwine. “What can I get you, Sidney?”
“Answers to my questions. And I do not need your help.” Why he was so grumpy, he did not know. Well, there was the undisputable fact that she had somehow managed to convince her fiancée to help him. He had never hated a man, he had never met, more.
She just laughed at him, handing him a tumbler with whiskey. The letterhead of Cabbott Bank caught her eye. “That piece of paper suggests otherwise,” she smiled. “You really are terrible at asking for help.”
He heard what she was implying, still it made no sense to him. Unless, Sir Simmons was her husband to be. The thought made his skin crawl. “As are you, Miss Heywood. Did you not learn the last time that venturing to London alone was a dangerous idea. Did you think to ask Tom for help? Or Mary even?”
“I did ask for help. Qualified help, and I am sorry to say but that is not your brother. I informed Mary of my plan and went to London to seek help from Lady Susan. I am staying with her. She was remarkably willing to help out, which I can see succeeded.”
The pieces of the puzzle fell into place and still Sidney was utterly confused. “This... This was your doing?”
“Yes.” She gave him a brilliant, proud smile.
“But why?” Sidney had to put the glass down on the mantel piece, certain that it would fall from his hand otherwise.
“I was not about to let the man I love fight this impossible battle alone. We have proven to be good partners in when it comes to crises. Don’t you agree?” She was all smiles and dimples. Strike that. She was the sun bursting its life-giving light through clouds of grey.
Sidney looked at her in disbelief. “You love me?”
“Yes, I...” Her smile wilted. “Oh no, I completely overinterpreted things, didn’t I? I tend to that. I just thought that after the kiss and your words in the study and our conversation on the balcony and the kiss... The words rushed out of her as she backed towards the door.
Two warm, large hands gently grabbed her upper arms. “Could you stop talking for a minute, Charlotte? Please.”
“Yes, yes. Of course, I shall leave immediately.” She tried to walk away from him but he held on.
“You will do no such thing. Just be quiet for a moment,” he said, tilting her head with a knuckle under her chin.
“Why?” The first tear ran down her cheek. She looked so utterly and devastatingly embarrassed that it broke his heart.
“So, that I can kiss you,” he whispered softly. Oh, his memory of her eyes fluttering closed in anticipation of his kiss was insufficient indeed. She looked breathtakingly beautiful.
Her lips parted in a surprised, quiet “Oh,” as if her brain and her body did not receive the message from him simultaneously.
When his lips finally met hers, everything inside him stilled. Chaos turned to control. Hurt morphed to happiness. Despair to desire. It did not take long before his tongue coaxed inside and started exploring the sweet warmth of her mouth. She followed his lead with enthusiastic little moans that should have made him stop instantly before she felt what holding her and kissing her did to the neglected body part in his pants. Instead, he moved them towards the small sofa by the fire and pinned her lithe body against the plush cushions.
To his great horror and equally great disappointment in himself, it was not until he found himself easing up her skirt and brushing his hand along the softest leg he had ever touched – which to be honest spoke volumes – that what was left of his gentleman upbringing reminded him to treat the brilliant woman beneath him with the respect and love she deserved until they were married.
Groaning, he sat up, pulling her with him. “Forgive me. I do not know what possessed me to treat you so carelessly. My only defence is that I have missed you more than I thought possible and to hear that you love me... I...”
She silenced him with a gentle touch of a finger to his lips. “Do not turn this beautiful moment into something shameful. I have missed you too, Sidney. But you are right, it is best that we finish our conversation before going any further.” Her voice turned teasing at the last words and Sidney broke into a happy grin.
They sat for a while in silence, their fingers toying with featherlight touches, until Charlotte seemed entirely too far away and Sidney lifted her onto his lap. “I promise to behave, I just need you in my arms to believe that you are actually here.”
It was too tempting to kiss her but he managed to resist. It was worth a medal, really. He looked at the clock on the mantel piece, it was almost 10 pm. “I am surprised Lady Susan allowed you to come see me at this hour, unchaperoned. I cannot say, though, that I am not eternally grateful for it.”
Charlotte blushed to a deep pink. “Technically, she does not know I am here. Of course, she will when she comes home later and learns I took the carriage.”
“Charlotte,” he said in a tone best described as admonishing even though he was the one who had initiated the kiss and was currently sitting with her in his lap, the feeling of the silky skin on her thigh still burning his fingers.
Not unsurprisingly, she started scolding him. “Do not treat me like that, Sidney. Do you have any idea how hard it has been to sit on display in Susan’s house, pretending that my life was not about to end before it had even begun? I came to London to help you because I feared your willingness to sacrifice yourself for your family would cause you to make rash and self-destructing decisions. And I was not wrong, was I? Mrs. Campion was bragging last night about the love of her youth coming back to pursuit her, now she was a widow. And she was not entirely wrong to think so, was she? You considered it?” Angry, she pushed herself out of his embrace and started pacing.
“Charlotte, I...--” he began unhelpfully but she was not done.
“I left on the next coach after you – with the blessing of Mary.” She gave him a warning look not to start that particular discussion again. “And went straight to Lady Susan. I have been staying with her. She was more than willing to help and summoned her special friend to ask his assistance.”
“The prince regent?” Sidney gasped.
“Yes. He too was very obliging. Unfortunately, also a man who loves to play games. I had to promise not to contact you until he had had his amusement. Truthfully, I cannot say the man is not slightly mad but he did come through and forced one of the Crown’s banks to lend you the money.”
Lord, she was even more beautiful and arousing when she was upset. Her bosom heaved most delightfully and her cheeks blushed like he imagined they would after she had been thoroughly ravished by him.
“Sidney!”
Shit, he missed the last thing she said. “Forgive me, it’s been a rather long day,” he stuttered.
Her face softened. “I should let you get some rest; we can talk in the morning.”
Panic surged through him. “No! Please, stay!” Without thinking he reached out and yanked her into his lap again and kissed her. “Continue, please.”
She pressed another kiss on his lips. “Susan and George are attending some event tonight. He told me before they left that everything had worked out. I couldn’t wait, Sidney. I had to see you.”
“I cannot believe you did all that for me.” No one had truly been in his corner since his father died. He loved Mary. Babington and Crowe were good and life-long friends but not to this extend.
Her brown eyes fixed his in a sad stare. “How could I not? Have you not been alone for long enough?”
“You are not going to like this, Charlotte, but I have one more thing to ask of you.” He tightened his arms around her.
“Anything,” she responded with determination.
“We need to marry. On a special license, that is. I should have done so after our harried trip to Scotland. But after this. You travelling alone to London and being in my house at night. It is not the romantic proposal you deserve. Nor will the wedding be with attendance of your family and friends but I love you. I promise to make up for it until my dying breath. Say yes, Charlotte.” He rested his brow against hers.
“Say yes to what exactly? You have yet to ask me a question,” she smiled.
He laughed. “You maddening, vexing, brilliant, beautiful woman. Charlotte, you are the love of my life. The air that I breathe, and the rhythm of my heart. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? To be my friend, my partner, my lover?”
She gasped at the last word. “Of course, I will. Is that not obvious?”
Again, he laughed. “Nothing is obvious with you, my love. I will go first thing in the morning a precure a license.”
Smiling cryptically, she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “You mean a license like this?”
He took the document from her. It had the prince’s seal on it and flamboyant signature. “How,” he chuckled in disbelief.
“Susan is rather practical and a bit disappointed that you had not already done the right thing. We are to be married by the arch bishop himself tomorrow at 10. George himself will attend to cast some glitter on the event – and quell any gossip. I will not be surprised if the story will go that he matchmade us. I hope you do not have any prior engagements in the morning?” She slipped her arms around his neck, laughing at his astonished expression.
“Nothing is more important than marrying you, Charlotte.” His eyes darkened. “So, tomorrow at this time you will be my Mrs. Parker?”
“Yes, and you will be my Mr. Parker. My husband.” She leaned closer and whispered. “And since we have no family present, I expect that we will be able to retire early from the wedding breakfast.”
Every fibre in Sidney’s body ignited to hot-white fire. He could not prevent the growl that escaped him. Perhaps he could have prevented the hungry kiss that turned very heated very quickly, and the hand that cupped a perfect breast. He definitely should have been able to keep the same hand from travelling down her body and under her dress where it travelled back up until it reached the apex of her thighs.
Since we do not gossip here, we will pretend that Charlotte walked up the aisle, on the arm of the prince regent himself, untainted and innocently virgin like a proper bride should be. We will also pretend that nothing but a few chaste kisses happened on the carriage ride to Lady Susan’s grand home in Mayfair.
However, we do not need to pretend that our newlywed couple did not enjoy their wedding night and the following many days in bed, exploring the pleasurable wonders of each other.
“I love you,” Sidney gasped after another very satisfying round lovemaking.
“I love you too,” Charlotte responded, rising her head from his chest where she had collapsed a few minutes earlier.
“We will be endlessly happy,” he stated before finding her lips and his second wind.
“We will,” she agreed with a moan as he slipped inside her.
And they were.
The End ❤