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Though she didn’t dance herself, Meg quite enjoyed watching the others spin around the room. Alise was asked to dance by her own father, which was a bit of a faux pas in some stricter rule books since she was so young, but Meg found it endearing. She was hopeful that some of these ridiculous rules would begin to change. After all, she should be able to get up and use the ladies’ room without having to wait on an escort. Watching her young friend spin around the dance floor with her loving father was both joyful and melancholy. How she longed to have the opportunity to dance with her own father once more.
She watched her own mother dance as well, though she had no idea where her uncle might have gone off to. She assumed he would be getting his fill of the spirits and other alcoholic beverages Mrs. Edgebrook had on offer. There were not too many times in her life when she could actually remember being proud of her mother, but watching her twirl so gracefully around the dance floor, regardless of the skill of her partner, was breathtaking. Meg wasn’t the only one who noticed as others began to comment on how elegantly her mother danced. One day soon, Meg hoped to have the opportunity to show some fine young man everything her mother had taught her. She wondered if she would ever have the occasion to dance that way with Charlie.
Or with Ezra.
The night was much longer than Meg had expected, and after dinner, she found herself struggling to stay awake. She couldn’t remember ever having been out this late before. It was a wonderful experience, but she was ready to go to sleep. Even the thought of her own bed seemed inviting, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt that way.
Just as she began to nod off, there was a bit of a ruckus from back by the ladies’ lounge, which was out of the ballroom and around the corner a bit. She could hear the sound of a man shouting and what sounded like a woman screaming. Though the music was loud, she was seated nearby enough that it had awoken her, whereas people on the other side of the dance floor likely didn’t even know anything was happening.
“What’s all that commotion?” Meg asked Alise, who looked as if she had either just woken up or was about to fall asleep herself. Most of the other girls around them were also peering off in that direction, though some of them seemed not to have heard.
“I don’t know,” Alise replied, “and the only way we are about to find out is if some gentleman decides to escort us back there to see. Let us hope the building isn’t on fire.”
Meg couldn’t help but giggle. Alise was sharp and witty. She reminded her a bit of herself.
The laughter stopped, however, when Meg noticed a man she did not recognize rushing across the dance floor to her mother, who was sitting with a group of ladies. He stooped down and whispered something in her ear, and her mother’s already pale face turned ashen. She took his arm and hurried off in the direction of the noise which had died down a bit now, but Meg could tell, whatever it was, it wasn’t over.
She heard another voice then, a familiar one, and braced herself. Whatever her uncle was up to, it couldn’t be good.
A few moments later, he was escorted around the corner, one large gentleman on either side of him, his elbows gripped tightly in their hands. They were attempting to be nonchalant, it was clear, but she could tell by their strained expressions that they were upset.
“Isn’t that your uncle?” Connie asked, leaning down next to Meg’s ear.
“It looks like the Westmorelands have decided to put on a second act,” Samantha chided, causing Connie and a few of the other girls to giggle.
Meg stood, though she wasn’t supposed to, her face red. How could she possibly compare her consumption of a few too many canapés to her clearly inebriated uncle being escorted out? Though Meg wanted to turn and give Samantha a stern talking to, she could see her mother, accompanied by Mr. Edgebrook this time, rushing over to collect her.
“Mary Margaret, it’s time to go,” her trembling voice said, and Meg quickly said goodbye to Alise and a few of her other friends before grasping Mr. Edgebrook’s other arm and hurrying out of the room. Her legs were not as long as his, and she was not used to walking in these fancy shoes at all, so she stumbled a few times, but he did nothing to right her, and she hoped that no one noticed how clumsy her exit must appear.
Her mother directed her into the backseat of the motor coach as she turned to address Mr. Edgebrook. Once Meg was in, she realized her uncle was nearly passed out in the front seat and Mr. Bitterly, who had likely spent all these hours sitting in the car, was in the driver’s seat.
She couldn’t quite hear everything her mother was saying, but it seemed as if she was apologizing. Mr. Edgebrook looked very unsympathetic and appeared to cut her off before spinning and heading back into the house. The other two gentlemen, the ones who had escorted her uncle out, stood nearby, and as one helped her mother into the seat beside her, the other made sure the path was clear for Mr. Bitterly to make a speedy departure.
Having no true idea what had just transpired, Meg looked at her mother and then her uncle to see if either of them might give her a clue. Her uncle’s head was tipped back, and after a moment she could hear him snoring. Each time Bitterly took a corner too quickly, his head would flop around, and Meg was hopeful that it might smack into the glass window or at least the side of the door. When she returned her attention to her mother, she could clearly see tears on her cheeks, and for a brief moment, Meg began to feel compassion for the woman. She reached out her hand to place it on her mother’s shoulder, an attempt to comfort her, but she literally slapped it away, so Meg put her hand back in her lap and silently hoped that, whatever it was that her uncle had done, her mother was equally as shamed for it. That’s what she got for feeling compassion toward someone who had never felt anything for her at all.
Since Mr. Bitterly had nearly carried her uncle out of the motor coach and deposited him on a sofa in the formal living area, Meg was fairly certain she could rest easy for what was left of the night, as could the other little girls upstairs in the attic. She fell asleep that night hoping that the two gentlemen who had escorted her uncle out had made him pay for whatever it was he had done before they forced him to leave. It was about time he got a taste of his own medicine.
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