Betrayal
Meg was still able to keep up with his words, but they’d begun to lose meaning. The feel of Charlie’s hand on her shoulder gave her courage. “Your father believes that my mother poisoned my father?”
Ezra nodded once, sharply.
Charlie’s grip tightened, and Meg pressed down hard on the lids of all of the boxes in her mind—including the one that held memories of her da. Thoughts of him pushing her on the swing, just under the tree there. The pram she’d pushed around the garden after he brought it back from his trip to New York. The lilacs he’d pick and tuck behind her ear, calling her his little flower when he did so. Without wiping the tears from her cheeks, Meg looked Ezra directly in the eyes and said, “What happened to Charlotte?”
“I don’t know,” Ezra mumbled, seemingly shocked that she’d reversed topics so quickly.
“What happened to her?” she asked again, more forcefully this time.
He took a full step back. “We… argued. She wanted me to take her to a physician in Essex. I didn’t want to. If there was a chance the baby was mine, I wanted to keep it. She wanted to end the pregnancy. We drove into the night, and then, she… she was bleeding. I pulled over. I wanted to help her, but she didn’t want my help. The arguing… it got worse. I finally got out of the car, Meg, and I began to walk. I thought, if she didn’t want my help, she could take care of herself.”
“You left her there, bleeding?”
“I didn’t have any choice,” he said, running his hand through his hair again. His sleeve slipped up a bit, and Meg noticed the scratches went even higher than she’d imagined. They looked old. She glanced around the yard to see if there’d been much pruning, but she didn’t notice any. “She didn’t want to listen to me. I thought it was better for me to leave than to stay there and continue to fight. I was hoping she’d make it to Essex. We were nearly there.”
“Did Charlotte even know how to drive an automobile?” Meg asked.
“Yes. I showed her how.” The comment caught Meg in the gut. Even though she no longer cared for Ezra, she did remember when he had taught her how to drive the same car. “She took off, and I caught a ride back here. I made up the story about you being with her because I didn’t want your mother to worry, and I thought Charlotte would never return. I didn’t think she’d want to face your uncle after she’d left, especially not if she thought I’d tell them she was expecting.”
“Where did you get that bruise on your neck?” Charlie asked, his hand never leaving Meg’s shoulder.
She hadn’t notice it before, but when Charlie mentioned it, she could see a black and blue streak just peeking out from his shirt collar. It was yellowing at the edges, as if it was beginning to fade.
“A branch struck me when I was cutting back the trees,” he said with a shrug. “Scratched my hands up right good, too,” he said, bringing them out of his pockets.
“Why weren’t you wearing gloves?” Charlie asked.
“I prefer not to wear gloves.” He shrugged again. “Meg knows that.”
She didn’t remember whether or not he normally wore gloves, but she wasn’t buying his story. “I believe Det. Weber would like to speak to you again.”
Ezra looked over her shoulder, as if he thought the detective might be standing behind her. “I’ve already told them everything I just mentioned to you. I shouldn’t mind speaking to them again, but I don’t really see the point.”
“I suppose they have their reasons,” Meg said. She brushed her hands up and down her face, finally wiping away the tear streaks. She’d weigh out what he’d mentioned about her parents later. For now, she needed to make sure Det. Weber had an opportunity to thoroughly question Ezra one more time. She cleared her throat. “Ezra, I want to thank you,” Meg began resting one hand on her hip.
“What’s that?” he asked, looking from her face to Charlie’s and then back again. “Thank me for what?”
“For leaving,” she replied. “If you’d stayed, if you’d carried through with what we talked about, I would’ve run away with you. If I’d left with you the night of Alise’s ball, or if you’d had the gumption to attempt to save me from my uncle and take me away the next morning, I would’ve missed out on my destiny. I never would’ve boarded Titanic. I never would’ve met Charlie. Thanks to your ineptitude, I will now leave here with the most wonderful man imaginable as my fiancé and return to a life in America with nothing but freedom and happiness on the horizon. So… as much as you hurt me, as horrible of a human being I believe you to be, I at least must say thank you. I appreciate your cowardice more than you can possibly imagine.”
Ezra’s brow was furrowed and he stared at her in confusion.
“I concur,” Charlie replied, slipping his hand down around Meg’s waist. “Thank you very much for being the most pathetic bloke who has ever walked the earth.”
The door opened behind them before Ezra could formulate a sentence, and Jonathan stepped out, followed by Det. Weber. “I hate to interrupt, but your mother has finished her statement. Det. Weber has more questions for Mr. Bitterly, and I believe Officer Brown is ready to speak to you as soon as you are ready, Miss Westmoreland.”
Meg nodded at him, and then without even turning back to face Ezra, she said, “Goodbye, Ezra.”
Charlie followed her up the steps as Det. Weber began his inquisition. “Are you going to speak to your mother about Ezra’s accusation?”
“I suppose I have to,” Meg said, her breath catching.
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