37

                                    

                                          
Sidney alighted from the Babingtons' carriage that evening, sounds of laughter escaping as he departed somewhat unsteadily, and wished his companions well on their return journey to Worthing House. After watching the carriage merge back into the sea of traffic returning from various evening events, he turned away from the street and took the final few steps to the front door of Bedford Place, elated exhaustion overtaking him as he finally stepped across the threshold, greeted by the familiar sounds and scents of home. 
                          
"Master Parker," Linton said, emerging from the door that led to the servants quarters, a note of relief in his voice as he reached for Sidney's coat and hat, "did you...enjoy your evening?" 
                          
"Immensely, Linton," Sidney said, no longer attempting to suppress the smile upon his face. "The performance was...memorable," he said, his gaze flicking to the floor, the colour upon his cheeks deepening until it could no longer be mistaken for the chill from the carriage ride.
                          
"Indeed," said Linton, his eyes brightening, "and how is Miss Heywood?"
                          
"How did you-"
                          
"Mrs Parker may have mentioned it," he said, beaming, "I remember her well - from her previous visit to Bedford Place. She was...a very admirable young lady," he said, wistfully.
                          
"If I didn't know better, Linton, I might have guessed that you fancied her, yourself," Sidney broke into a wide smile, chuckling at this uncharacteristically ardent display of affection as Linton's ears turned pink. 
                          
"Yes, well, I could not have chosen better for you, Master Parker."
                          
"You do realise that I am still engaged to another."
                          
"Oh, that," he said dismissively, "a pesky obstacle and nothing more. I have never seen you quite so happy, nor so miserable since you returned to London. You will find a way where Miss Heywood is concerned."
                          
"That is...very bold of you to say," said Sidney, a shocked laugh escaping his lips.
                          
"Forward, perhaps, but honest, above all else, Sir."
                          
"Yes, I suppose you are right. I do appreciate your honesty...and your accuracy," he added, amused.
                          
"Of course, Sir," he bowed, "Although I would much rather speak of your Miss Heywood, there is something else I must tell you - something that took place this afternoon."
                          
"Did she call after I left?"
                          
"Yes, she arrived just as you predicted, Sir. Mentioned something about going to Covent Garden for the evening, which rather alarmed me. I'm glad you didn't happen to see her there."
                          
"No, we...just managed to avoid her," he said, another grin breaking out upon his face before he could prevent it. "And you were consistent with the story?"
                          
"Yes, Sir. I revealed that you are travelling to Sanditon and are unlikely to return for several days. I also may have mentioned more details than she cared to hear about building sites. By the time I brought up Cornish stone, as you suggested, Sir, she was quite ready to be rid of me."
                          
"Good man, Linton," he said, patting his arm affectionately. "If we play our cards just right, we may get out of this yet." He began walking toward the staircase, a slight yawn escaping him as another wave of exhaustion hit.
                          
"There is...one more thing," said Linton, hesitantly, and Sidney halted, turning back to him, suddenly uneasy.
                          
"Yes?" 
                          
"Mrs Parker received a letter by courier some hours ago. She has been holed up in the study all evening, and has yet to emerge."
                          
"Did you happen to see where it came from?"
                          
"Yes...it arrived from Trafalgar House. She appears to be in a great deal of distress."
                          
Sidney shifted, his expression serious as he changed direction and proceeded down the corridor. "Thank you, Linton," he called over his shoulder, "I will handle it from here."
                          
Mary sat behind the large oak desk in the Bedford Place study that had so often been occupied by Sidney over the past few months, feverishly shifting stacks of papers when Sidney knocked quietly upon the partially opened door.
                          
She stopped abruptly, startled at the sound, and her head shot up as if caught in the act, "Sidney..."
                          
"Mary," he greeted cautiously, "are you...alright? Linton just mentioned the letter from Trafalgar House."
                          
"Oh just..." she said, moving yet more papers around, "organising the space a bit."
                          
"Organising? You do know that I had a system in place," he said, "and that it is well past Midnight."
                          
"Y-yes," she said, breathing in suddenly, "I...just...needed something to distract..." 
                          
Her face crumpled, sobs coursing through her body, as she leaned forward to rest her head upon a precariously balanced stack, and Sidney rushed across the room, kneeling next to her. "Mary..." he reached his hand out to rest on her shoulder, failing to find the words to ask what his brother had done to her this time.
                          
She did not lift her head from the stack of papers as her body shook silently beneath his hand.
                          
"It is my own doing. I should not have left her," she murmured, her voice muffled, wobbling.
                          
"So it is not-"
                          
Mary lifted her head, "She was all alone. Of course she would have tried to get away. I should have sensed it."
                          
"Mary," he said, heart rate quickening as his hand became frozen in place upon her shoulder, "what is your meaning..."
                          
"How could I not have seen it?," she continued, angrily, "After the document surfaced, she was terrified of being taken again. And then I left her - in the care of Mrs Griffiths, no less, and now she-"
                          
His breath hitched in his throat, the room beginning to feel as if it were falling beneath his feet as dread swept through his body, settling deep, "Georgiana."
                          
Her head lowered as if the weight was too much to bear, a fresh sob escaping her, "Yes, the letter...was from Tom."
                          
"Tom..." he echoed.
                          
"H-he has gone in search of her, with a few of his men," she said, turning to face him, sorrow and concern etched upon every feature, "Sidney, Georgiana disappeared two days ago."