Disappointed
Southampton
Meg had expected a visit from the monster the night she told her mother, but remarkably, that didn’t happen. In fact, she had heard him come up the stairs late that night, heard her mother’s footsteps in the hallway, and then heard a series of loud banging noises and doors slamming from the other end of the house. Though their home was quite sizable, it wasn’t so large that she couldn’t surmise that her mother and uncle must be having it out about something. Meg was hopeful that, despite her initial reaction, her mother was both shocked and dismayed at what her uncle had been doing to her. She was not brave enough to get her hopes up entirely, but she was at least hopeful—and that was a bit better than having no hope at all.
For obvious reasons, Meg was a light sleeper, and when she awoke to find the sun peeking beneath the heavy draperies that covered her windows, she was startled. Why hadn’t Ms. Strickland woken her? She was usually up with the sun, dressed, and downstairs for breakfast quickly so that they could get on with their studies post haste. This morning, the feeling of urgency seemed to only be emitted from Meg herself, and she couldn’t quite understand what might be happening.
She dressed as speedily as she could and made a semblance of righting her hair. Her jaw was still sore, but a careful examination in her mirror showed no sign of swelling or bruising. Open hands tended to leave less of a mark, she’d learned. One final straightening of her skirt and she made her way downstairs. As she approached the dining room, she could hear her mother’s voice, and from the tone it seemed as if she were giving orders. She did not, however, hear Ms. Strickland at all.
Her mother was sitting in her chair at the dining table, the same one she sat in for every meal, though Meg hadn’t actually breakfasted with her in so long she couldn’t remember the last time. Tessa, one of the servants who had worked for them for many years, was standing nearby, listening intently as her mother went over a list of items that needed to be done that day. “Make sure that listing gets in the newspaper in order to go out today. Tomorrow at the latest. We will need a replacement soon. You understand?”
“Yes, madam,” Tessa nodded, her graying hair tied up neatly beneath her mob cap. “Is there anything else?”
Mildred looked up to see Meg hovering near the door. “Mary Margaret, sit down,” she commanded. “Bring her breakfast in, Tessa, before you go.”
“Yes, madam,” the servant repeated as she went off to the kitchen, and Meg dragged the heavy oak chair out from beneath the table.
“Your hair is a mess,” Mildred commented as she took a sip of tea.
“My apologies, Mother,” Meg began as Tessa set a bowl of porridge and a plate of dry toast in front of her. There was marmalade and butter on the table, but Meg was not sure what her mother might say if she reached for either of them, so she picked up the toast and took a small bite as Tessa sat a glass of water before her.
“You may have noticed there has been a slight change in our arrangement,” Mildred began, setting the tea cup back on its saucer.
“Yes, Mother,” Meg replied, once the toast was swallowed.
“Ms. Strickland has been released from her duties. I’ve found her… tiresome. Tessa will place an advert today for a replacement. In the meantime, I’ve hired a young lady to look after you, to make sure you continue your studies on your own. You are capable of completing some of your studies independently, aren’t you, Mary Margaret?”
Nodding, Meg said, “Yes, Mother,” and held back her excitement at the thought of never seeing the nasty Ms. Strickland again.
“Good. You should also know that we’ve decided to let the other servants go as well. The only ones who will be staying on are Tessa and Mr. Bitterly. Your uncle has determined it would be worthwhile to replace some of the aging servants with younger ones. Of course, I insisted that Tessa stay, as she is practically irreplaceable. And your uncle has no interest in what happens in the yard. Therefore, you can expect to see some new faces here in a few days, once Bertram has the chance to find suitable replacements.”
The entire conversation seemed quite odd to Meg, but she said nothing other than the usual. “Yes, Mother,” and began to mull over what her uncle might be up to.
“This young lady we’ve brought on to look after you will do so until your governess is hired, and then she will also go about attending to household chores while you are studying. Since your uncle insists on keeping you here rather than sending you to a proper finishing school, you must have a governess who can ensure you are completely prepared to run a household. However, I also feel it is fitting for you to have your own lady to keep track of you.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“You must stop this… running away, Mary Margaret. This ridiculous, childish behavior. You are a young lady. You are quite pretty, though you have your father’s cheekbones and not mine, and if you tried at all, you could be quite graceful. Digging in the mud, riding bareback, taking things from marketplaces and people’s pockets—those things are absolutely revolting! You must stop them this instant. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mother,” she said again, wondering at how her mother knew all of those things.
“Climbing about in the carriage house with that dreadful Ezra…. You simply must stop, Mary Margaret. While other young ladies are preparing to come out in society, you are sneaking about as if you’ve been raised by common thieves. It is unheard of.”
“I understand, Mother,” Meg replied, swallowing back the lump in her throat. She’d done all of those things out of rebellion, to escape, to be… free. Of course, none of them had worked—here she was after all. But when her mother put it like that, she did sound like a vagabond.
Then her mother said the words that would cut her like a knife. “Your father would be very disappointed in you.”