Married
Ruth looked adorable in her pink dress, which hung to the floor, nearly tripping her as she danced around her parents. Kelly had stood beside Meg, along with Grace, and Charlie had been proud to have both Walter—who turned out to be every bit as silly as Charlie had described—and Quincy on his side.
Now, it was all over, except for the reception. Then, Meg would return to Charlie’s house—the house they would share together—and embark on a new adventure, that of being Mrs. Charles Ashton.
“Meg Ashton,” she said aloud, once the last of the well-wishers had moved along. “What do you think?”
Charlie was already grinning from ear to ear, but his face brightened even more. “I think it sounds remarkable.”
“That’s my name now, you know? Meg Ashton.”
“What about Mary Margaret Ashton?” he asked, leaning close to her ear.
“Heaven’s no. That’s such an awful name anyway. Mary Margaret. There’s way too many Mars.”
He laughed so loudly a few people standing nearby turned to look. “Are you going to give up Westmoreland forever? It was your father’s name.”
“That’s the only reason I can tolerate it at all,” she admitted. “Perhaps Meg Westmoreland Ashton, though that’s very complicated. Meg Ashton is nice and crisp.”
He bent down and kissed her temple near the veil that hung over the back of her head. It was made of tulle, an idea her mother-in-law had come up with after she insisted the veil have no lace, and it had been fastened over the back of her hair the entire ceremony, with only one thin layer needing to be flipped back once she was standing in front of the altar—on Jonathan’s arm. She couldn’t think of another soul worthy of giving her away in lieu of her father.
“Do you know all of these people?” she whispered while he was so close to her.
“No, only about half. Possibly,” he admitted.
Meg giggled, glad she wasn’t the only one who felt like she didn’t quite belong. “Grace has planned for us to cut that enormous wedding cake and then everyone shall have a slice.”
“Cut the cake? You and me? How interesting.”
“Well, I think only one piece. She is a bit of a trendsetter, that sister of yours.”
“She’s yours now, too,” Charlie reminded her.
“She suggested I smear some all over your face. She thought it would be a lark.”
His eyebrows raised. “And did you agree to this prank?”
Meg grinned at him slyly. “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see.” She had no intention of playing the joke, though she thought it might be fun to see him squirm a bit between now and then, unsure of what she might do.
“It would be a shame to get cake all over that dress, but if I’m forced to defend myself….”
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. He began to laugh, and she resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs, since his mother had asked that they please attempt to be as serious as possible when standing at the head of the room.
Grace walked in front of them, looking as though she was on her way to direct the Master of Ceremonies to get on with it, her pink gown nearly dragging on the floor as she went. Once she’d passed through her line of vision, Meg’s eyes fell on another somewhat familiar face. Stella.
“Well, Mrs. Cartwright doesn’t disappoint does she?” she asked, turning her face so that she was practically speaking into Charlie’s shoulder.
“What’s that?” he asked, turning to look. She pulled him back around.
“She looks as if she’d like to have my head on a platter.”
He laughed. “She just doesn’t like to be proven wrong, that’s all.”
Meg took another glance in her direction. Stella was still stabbing Meg with her cold eyes. “Perhaps I should say something to her.”
“What? Why?” Charlie asked, taking his new bride by the shoulders. “Meg, she doesn’t matter. We’ll hardly ever see her. She’s jealous, and that’s all right. She’ll get over it. Just let her be.”
“But… I hate that she’s so angry.”
“Meg, you can’t make everyone happy all the time,” he reminded her. “There are plenty of other people who are very happy for us. Let’s concentrate on them, shall we?”
Just as he finished the sentence, one last guest they hadn’t yet seen stopped behind Meg and said, “Well, if it isn’t the prettiest little miss this side of the Atlantic!”
Before she even turned around, Meg recognized the voice. “Molly!” she shouted, wrapping her arms around Mrs. Molly Brown. “I had heard you were out of town.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world!” She let go of Meg and turned to Charlie. “You look so handsome, Charlie!”
“Lovely to see you, Molly,” he said, embracing her. “If it weren’t for you, this day may never have happened.”
“Nonsense,” she replied, waving him off. “All I did was keep you kids pointed in the right direction. Anyhow, I just wanted to tell you congratulations.”
“You’re staying aren’t you?” Meg asked, hopeful she’d have the opportunity to talk to the eccentric millionaire again before the affair was over.
“Yes, of course,” Molly assured them. “But it looks like Mr. Big Britches over there is about to make an announcement.” She was gesturing at the Master of Ceremonies who was doing his best to get everyone’s attention without using any loud noisemakers, as Charlie and Meg had requested.
Eventually, the tall, thin man Meg had learned was called Mr. Rudolph announced it was time for the first dance and he went about organizing partners, quite a feat in such a crowded room.
“Meg Ashton,” Charlie said, bowing low, “would you do me the honor of dancing our first dance together as man and wife?”
She took his outstretched hand. “Yes, Charles Ashton. It would be my pleasure.” He led her to the dance floor, and she wondered what might have happened if she’d gone to Alise’s ball. They would’ve shared their first dance that day instead of on Titanic. Would everything have turned out the same? Would they still have sailed on Titanic?
The song was a lively one, and Meg lost herself as Charlie twirled her around the dance floor. As she spun and whirled, she completely forgot the hundreds of eyes fixated on her and focused only on Charlie’s smile. His eyes twinkled, and she could hear him laughing over the sound of the music. Despite all that they’d been through, she was his wife at last. Nothing would ever change that.
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