Appearance
“Didn’t the telegraph accomplish that?” Mrs. Ashton’s question was a valid one.
“Yes, but the lawyers suggested a photograph be taken of the pair of us together so that they will know for sure that the telegraph was sent by Meg and not someone simply pretending to be her,” Charlie further explained.
“That does make sense,” Mr. Ashton nodded.
“So… we’ll discuss the details tomorrow, Mother, but I’d like to do it the night after next. Here. With only a small number of guests.”
Mrs. Ashton had a smile frozen on her face. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. I’m not even sure if your sister is free and can make it down that quickly.”
“She’ll manage,” Charlie assured his mother. “I apologize for leaving dinner before it’s finished, but I’m not feeling well, and I’m afraid I’ll need to excuse myself.”
Meg had seen the color in his face draining layer by layer as the meal progressed. “Of course,” his father was saying. “Shall we call someone to escort you out?” He looked at the servants standing nearby, and one of them, a young man Meg didn’t know the name of, stepped forward.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Charlie said with a weak smile. “I’ll send Jonathan in for you, Meg.” She realized he didn’t want to abandon her to his parents, though she didn’t mind so much, as long as he was all right. She only nodded. He shook his father’s hand and wished him good night and stooped to kiss his mother’s cheek before he gave Meg one more look and slowly walked out of the room.
Once he was gone, Mr. Ashton said, “I’m quite concerned, Pamela. I don’t think he should be getting on another ship anytime soon.”
She nodded her head in agreement. “Meg, surely you wouldn’t mind if John accompanied you to speak to the police in Southampton, rather than Charlie?”
Meg’s mouth suddenly felt dry, and she couldn’t formulate a sentence for a moment, Eventually, she pried her tongue off the roof of her mouth. “It’s not that I mind so much, Mrs. Ashton. It’s only, I’m certain Charlie won’t let me face my mother and uncle without him.”
“Please call me Pamela,” the mother reminded her. “And why is that, exactly?”
She wanted to tell them, or at least give them a logical explanation, but once again the words wouldn’t exit her mouth properly.
“It’s all right, dear. If you don’t wish to talk about it….”
“I do wish to talk about it. But I don’t seem capable,” Meg admitted.
The Ashton’s exchanged looks that Meg recognized as sympathy. “Well, dear, whatever you and Charlie decide is best, we’ll try to accept it. I only worry that he will end up making himself more ill.”
“I understand. I am also concerned.”
“He isn’t as strong as he thinks he is sometimes,” Mrs. Ashton muttered, moving her own food around on her plate.
Before Meg could say anything else, Jonathan stepped into the dining room, and without crossing to the table, which she thought was odd, he called, “Meg, are you ready to go, or are you still dining?”
“Don’t let us keep you,” Mr. Ashton insisted as Meg looked at each of them, wondering what she should do.
“I’m certain we will see you soon, darling,” Pamela said with a smile.
Meg stood, and Mr. Ashton rose to peck her cheek and wish her goodnight. Meg wished them both well and then met Jonathan at the door. With one last glance at Charlie’s parents, she went out into the hallway, her hand on Jonathan’s arm, but immediately, she recognized why he’d kept his distance. “Jonathan, you’re intoxicated,” she whispered sharply near his ear, though she wouldn’t dare get too close. The smell was enough to make her gag.
“Yes, I am,” he admitted. “And I apologize for that.”
“Why?” she asked. He was able to walk in a fairly straight line, but as they approached the back door, she felt that she was doing more of the leading than he was.
“I didn’t realize Charlie would ask me to escort you home. I thought I was done for the evening.”
His answer made sense; he was able to do whatever he liked on his own time. Still, she was surprised. “Did Charlie realize you were drunk when he asked you to bring me home?”
“I doubt it since he looked as if he were about to pass out himself.”
She stopped and looked at him, and he gave a loud guffaw. Meg wasn’t sure if he was telling a joke or not. “You know, Mr. Lane, I can see my apartment from here. I suggest you head back to your room, and I’ll make it the rest of the way myself.”
“Now, don’t be silly, Meg. I can walk you to your apartment. It’s just over there.”
“I know that—but it really isn’t necessary.”
“Meg…”
“Jonathan… thank you, but this is quite far enough.” She pulled her arm away from him, and he looked at her for a moment with a hint of something invidious behind his eyes, causing her to take a step back. Just as quickly as it came, it faded.
“Very well then. Have a good night, Meg.” He spun on his heels and headed back toward the main house, covering the ground quickly. Meg would’ve been certain she’d offended him if she thought he would even remember it in the morning.
A few hours later, Meg awoke to the sound of the ringing telephone. Unlike the night before, she recognized the sound now, and only choked on her own heart for a split second before she sprung from the sofa to answer. Less than ten minutes later, she was sitting next to Charlie on the bench, her coat wrapped tightly around her. She was fairly certain Jonathan would not be checking on them this night.
“I wanted to apologize for my mother,” Charlie said with a sigh. “She’s never been much of one to throw such social spectacles until my sister’s engagement party and subsequent wedding. Since then, she’s become enamored with making as much of a show as she can. It’s like a … contest or something.”
Meg couldn’t help but scoff. “I suppose that makes you lucky then if its only started recently. Most of the women I grew up knowing did anything and everything they could to outdo each other when it came to such get-togethers. My mother never had the money for such things until my coming out party—which you paid for.”
Charlie smiled at her. “Too bad I wasn’t invited.”
“It would’ve been much more fun if you’d been there.” She remembered the night well, even though it’d been several years ago. Not as many people had come as her mother would’ve liked, thanks to her uncle’s reputation as a womanizer.
“Well, I wanted to apologize nonetheless, and to tell you I’m sorry I left you.”
“No, it’s all right. I understand. You weren’t feeling well.”
He inhaled deeply through his nose, held it for a moment, and then let it go. “Meg, I’ve been thinking… it’s been a few weeks now, and nothing seems to be improving. Perhaps, when we return from Southampton, if things aren’t any better… perhaps I should… see someone.”
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