Reputation

Meg did find a way to doze off, and it was nearly supper time when Carrie finally roused her, insisting she get up now and get dressed or else she would be late for the evening meal. “Mr. Lane stopped by and said that it is important that you are well dressed this evening,” the brunette informed her mistress as she dragged her from the living room into the bedroom.
Though her mind was still a bit foggy from her nap, Meg yawned and asked, “Why do you insist on calling him Mr. Lane? He is also in the employment of the Ashtons, the same as you.”
Carrie was digging through the armoire and only turned to look at Meg briefly before shrugging and saying, “Everyone calls him Mr. Lane. He’s… more important than most of the other servants. Just as everyone calls Mr. Ashton’s second Mr. Pointer and Mrs. Ashton’s lady Ms. Dumont.”
Sitting down on the edge of her bed and contemplating rolling over onto her side and going back to sleep, Meg said, “I suppose overly well-to-do people have servants for their servants.”
“Miss! You can’t go back to sleep!” Carrie tugged on her arms and began dressing her in a lovely sapphire blue gown Mrs. Ashton had picked out for her. For a moment, Meg was reminded of Charlotte dressing her just before she went downstairs to face her mother for the final time.
“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” Meg shouted, standing up and pushing Carrie aside. That last thing she needed was memories of that morning or thoughts of that particular young lady. She pulled the lilac gown off, and despite her insistence that she could do it herself, Carrie helped her work the blue one on over her undergarments.
“Your hair is quite messy. We’ll have to redo it.” Carrie gestured at the vanity Mrs. Ashton had purchased which occupied the corner nearest the window facing Charlie’s house.
“Can’t we just pin it up?”
“Miss, Mr. Lane was quite clear when he said you must look nice.”
Carrie’s voice was as insistent as she had ever heard it before, and Meg’s stomach began to twist into knots. “What is Mr. Lane on about, Carrie? Has he something up his sleeve?”
“I honestly don’t know, miss, but I’m not about to be blamed for your refusal to attend supper as polished as possible. Now, please, have a seat so I may work on the bird’s nest on your head.”
Meg pursed her lips together but had a seat anyway. “It isn’t half as bad as it was when I disembarked, is it?”
“No, miss,” Carrie replied, taking the pins out so that she could start over. “It isn’t so bad, but it simply won’t do when Mr. Lane insists….”
“I understand, Carrie,” Meg cut her off. They were quiet for a moment, and as her mind continued to linger on Jonathan, a question began to formulate in her mind. She wasn’t one to gossip, but she was a bit concerned. “Carrie, do you happen to know, does Jonathan have a reputation as… a drinker?”
“A drinker?” Carrie repeated as she combed Meg’s hair out. “No, not that I know of. However, he did used to work in a tavern, I believe.”
“Really?” Meg asked. Carrie was tugging at her hair so hard, her head nearly snapped back.
“Yes, I believe that’s where he and Mr. Ashton met.”
“Charlie frequenting a tavern? That seems odd to me.” She couldn’t imagine him wandering into a common saloon.
“I don’t think it was the sort of establishment Mr. Ashton visited regularly. I’m honestly not sure. Why do you ask?”
It was a good question. Meg wasn’t sure why she’d brought it up. It did seem like the sort of topic she would discuss with Kelly, but Carrie was not Kelly. “No reason, I suppose,” she replied as Carrie began to pin her hair up. “He just smelled a bit like alcohol this afternoon, and I guess I’d never noticed it before.”
“Maybe he’s upset about the boat.”
She assumed she meant the sinking of the passenger liner, and wondered why everyone insisted on calling it a “boat.”
“Or the wedding.”
Meg forgot that the girl had a handful of her hair and turned her head rather sharply, which stung a bit. “What’s that?”
“Oh, nothing,” Carrie said quickly, giving a nervous laugh. “Nothing at all.”
“Carrie?” Meg was still looking at her, and Carrie attempted to walk around to the other side so that she could continue to work on her hair.
“It really isn’t something I should repeat, miss,” she said, and she bit her bottom lip in a way that let Meg know she wanted to tell but thought she might end up in trouble over it. Meg continued to turn so that her hair was facing the mirror, a position in which Carrie couldn’t possibly reach it. The girl let out a sigh. “All right. I’ll tell you what I’ve heard—but it’s only speculation, and it’s probably not even true.”
Again, Meg said nothing, only stared at Carrie expectantly.
Carrie licked her lips and swallowed hard. She glanced over her shoulder, as if she thought Jonathan might suddenly appear in the room. In a quiet voice, she said, “Some folks say that Jonathan is secretly in love with….” She stopped, waiting to see if Meg could guess where she was going. Meg’s face was frozen. Even though she already knew what the last word in the sentence would be, she didn’t move, not even an eyelid. “Charlie.”
Meg had guessed as much herself while on the cruise liner. She’d even hinted at it to Jonathan, but she had put it out of her mind, thinking that if it were true, surely he would attempt to stop the wedding. But he’d done nothing of the sort. “Why would anyone say that?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Carrie admitted. “I’ve just heard some of the other servants joke about it. No one thinks it’s requited mind you. In fact, some of them jest that Charlie is so oblivious to it, he doesn’t even notice.”
“What is there to notice?”
“Would you… can I work on your hair, please?”
Meg reluctantly spun around, and Carrie took another deep breath and began to pin up the rest of Meg’s hair. “Some say it’s just a look now and again in Mr. Ashton’s direction. Mr. Lane has never been seen with a woman, and he’s nearly forty, you know? He has been seen with other fellows though, or so I’m told. All of this is simply rumor, mind you, Miss Meg?”
“I understand, Carrie. And you should know the only reason I ask is because Jonathan is quite important to me, and I’d hate to do anything to upset him.”
“Yes, miss,” Carrie answered. “Would you like face powder?”
Meg hardly ever used the substance, though many of the girls back in Southampton had done so. “No, thank you,” she replied. She let out a deep sigh. If her marriage to Charlie really was heartbreaking to Jonathan, she wished she could speak to him about it, but then there was nothing that could be done. Perhaps she could find a way to let him know just how important he had become to her.
Carrie went over to Meg’s jewelry box, which still had very little to choose from since she’d brought nothing with her from England, and pulled out a few of her newer pieces. Simple drop earrings and a necklace with blue stones were enough to compliment the outfit and the combs in her hair without overwhelming. After helping her into a pair of slippers that better suited her dress than the boots she’d been wearing all day, Carrie stated, “I believe you’re ready, miss.”
“Thank you, Carrie,” Meg said, standing, and turning to face the girl. “I appreciate your help, and thank you for trusting me with the information you disclosed.”
“You won’t say anything to anyone, will you?”
“No, of course not,” Meg replied, knowing that was true partially because there would be no one to tell. She may say something to Charlie, given the opportunity, but that hardly counted since they were practically married.
“I’ll ring the house and let them know you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Carrie,” Meg said again. As the young woman walked away, she added “and I’m sorry I yelled at you when I was tired.”
Carrie giggled. “If you think that was yelling, you should see my grandmother when someone’s late for Sunday meeting.”
Meg couldn’t help but smile at the retreating form as Carrie made her way down the hall. She was lucky to have found someone else who could be a potential friend. Filling Kelly’s shoes was hard, but she did like Carrie, and she was good at her job. Before long, Meg thought Kelly just might need a lady herself, an idea that surprised her but also made her quite proud of everything her best friend and her family had accomplished. With one last glimpse in the mirror, Meg made her way out into the hall, hoping that whatever it was that made Jonathan insist she get gussied up wouldn’t be too overwhelming to her already nervous stomach.