Chapter Text
“Charlotte, my dear, how would you feel about spending Christmas at Sanditon?” asked Mr. Heywood.
Fourteen year old Charlotte immediately raised her nose out of her book, as her eyes widened in surprise over the pages of her book at her father’s question. It was a well-known fact that Mr. Heywood never traveled more than five miles from home. And even then, only when absolutely necessary.
“Sanditon, papa? Is Sanditon a relative?” Though Charlotte had never heard of a relative by that name, she did not think her father would ever travel to a place so distant that she had never heard of it before.
Chuckling slightly, Mr. Heywood responded, “No, no. Sanditon is not a relative. It is a place. A seaside town. As you know, your mother has not been feeling well, and the doctor thinks the sea air would do wonders for her health and the climate would not be so harsh there as it is here.” Mr. Heywood did not want his only child to worry, but in truth he was very worried for his wife’s health. He would never have been persuaded to make the journey if the situation were not very grave indeed.
Charlotte’s adventurous spirit was suddenly awakened, and she closed her book with a snap. “I should love it, papa! When do we leave?”
“Well, Christmas is still a couple weeks away, but I was thinking we can leave as soon as you and your mother have your trunks packed—”
“I can have everything ready in half an hour,” interrupted Charlotte as her brown eyes sparkled with excitement.
“I am sure you could, my dear,” said Mr. Heywood as he chuckled at his daughter’s exuberance. After spending the last few weeks concerned over his dear wife, it felt good to laugh again and to see Charlotte find delight in something. “However, I think it would be better to set out early tomorrow. That will give you plenty of time to make sure you do not forget anything.”
“Alright,” Charlotte replied resignedly. “And I must remember to bring Heraclitus.”
“Sometimes I think you spend too much time with your books.”
“That’s not true, only yesterday mama was complaining that I spend far too much of my time outdoors.” Though Charlotte reflected that a lot of her time was spent reading outdoors.
“I think your mother was complaining that you do not spend enough time indulging in your embroidery and playing the piano.”
“I think the blame belongs with you, papa. You never had a son and so you taught me everything you know.”
“Well, I shall have to remember not to teach my next daughter such bad habits.”
“Oh, papa!” Charlotte rolled her eyes as she gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek before dashing up the stairs to her room to pack her trunk.
Charlotte could not remember the last time, if ever, she had packed a trunk. She could not remember ever taking an overnight journey from home. In fact, she had hardly left home at all. Within the span of fifteen minutes, everything was haphazardly thrown into the trunk. She probably brought far too many books, but she was not sure what there would be to occupy her time. She imagined she would have to spend a great deal of time sitting with her mother, and reading would be a good distraction. Better that than embroidery. Charlotte was a little disappointed that it was winter, so there was very little chance of sea bathing, unless she wanted to catch hypothermia.
At the last minute, Charlotte realized they would not have their Christmas ornaments. The suddenness of her mother’s illness had taken over everything, and the mother and daughter had not had an opportunity to do any decorating. Suspecting that their new accommodations would not have any decorations, Charlotte decided to bring a piece of home with them to cheer her mother. Charlotte ran up to the attic and looked through the trunks until she at last found what she was looking for. The ornaments easily filled another trunk, and as Charlotte tried to lift the trunk, she was positive that it was far heavier than her own. Determined to get it downstairs herself, Charlotte dragged it across the floor, and then down the stairs as the trunk thudded down every step.
Once Charlotte maneuvered the heavy trunk into her room, she went to her mother to assist her with her packing. She paused outside the ajar door as she heard the hushed tones of her parents.
“Are you sure about this, my dear?” asked Mrs. Heywood. “I know how much you dislike traveling.”
“I think it will be nice for us to spend time together, just the three of us. Away from the responsibilities of the estate,” responded her husband.
“I do so worry about Charlotte.”
“She is a clever girl, and I have every faith she will find her own way in the world.”
“Yes, well, I wish she would not have to do it alone. That I would be there to guide her.”
“No more talk like that, of course you will be there to guide her,” Mr. Heywood said reassuringly as he patted his wife’s hand.
Charlotte did not like the way the conversation was turning, so she quickly burst through the room with a merry smile on her face.
“I am ready papa, I will just help mama,” said Charlotte brightly as she tried to forget what she had overheard. She hoped that this seaside town would use its healing power to help her mother.
Mr. Heywood pulled out his pocket watch and remarked with a smile, “Well, Charlotte. It seems you had quite a bit more to pack than you anticipated. It took you a whole forty-five minutes.”
“Actually, I was ready in fifteen minutes, but I spent the other half hour working on something else.”
“And what would that be?”
“You will see,” said Charlotte grinning.
Charlotte eagerly began pulling out her mother’s dresses and stuffing them into a trunk.
Horrified, Mrs. Heywood exclaimed, “Charlotte! You cannot possibly just throw clothes in there like that. They will be all wrinkled. Have I taught you nothing?”
“I am sorry, mama. I am just quite excited.”
Not wanting to find himself in the middle of a spat between his wife and daughter, Mr. Heywood quickly made his escape, claiming he just remembered he urgently needed to check something before their departure. Neither lady was fooled, but they nevertheless graciously allowed him to escape to the sanctuary of his study, where he would no doubt find solace from his pipe and brandy.
Once her husband had departed, Mrs. Heywood, from her bed, directed as she waved her hand holding a handkerchief, “Now, Charlotte, remember to fold the clothes nicely before packing them. That will help prevent a lot of the creases. If this was how you were planning to pack my trunk, I shudder to think what your own trunk looks like. No doubt your dresses are strewn about and stuck in between your many books. How will you ever show your face in respectable society?”
How well her mother knew her, thought Charlotte as she blushed a little. “I do not believe we have any acquaintances in Sanditon. I am sure I will not care how I look. Besides, I plan to spend my time with you and papa, and you are used to me and my ways.”
“You are not a little girl anymore, Charlotte. Someday some young man will come along and you will wish you heeded my advice instead of wearing a creased frock and having ink stains all over your fingers.
“Oh, mama!” exclaimed Charlotte exasperatedly as she rolled her eyes. She was far too young to be bothered with such things, yet also far too mature to be so silly and lose her head to the first gentleman that looked at her.
“While you are too young to be thinking about such things, just remember that love can find you when you least expect it.”
“Another pearl of wisdom that I shall store away in anticipation of a day that surely will not come anytime soon,” remarked Charlotte as she refolded her mother’s gowns and neatly placed them in the trunk with exaggerated movements so that her mother could see she was listening, even if she did not take what her mother had said entirely seriously.