Guests
Not only was Grace able to make it back in time for the proposed date Charlie had in mind for the engagement party, she made it back by mid-morning the next day to meet with Meg, Mrs. Ashton, and Kelly, along with a team of designers and other professionals Meg wasn’t quite sure she understood the purpose of. There were two older women who were to be responsible for decorations, a middle-aged man who’d be working on Meg’s gown (though he had no idea how he would manage such an extravagance on such a short timeline) and a group of chefs and bakers who would be responsible for the menu. Meg said very little, mostly listened to Grace prattle on about exactly what she envisioned. It was only when she began to talk about the number of guests that Meg found her voice.
“We can easily expect three hundred guests, possibly more,” Grace was saying, as her mother nodded along.
“Three hundred?” Meg said, her eyes as large as the dinner plates they’d already decided would be simple white china with a pink accent to match the gown and flowers. “I apologize—but I’m quite sure that’s not what Charlie and I had in mind.”
Grace looked at her as if she’d just announced the party should be held in the cellar. She cleared her throat. “We have several families who would be greatly offended not to be invited.” Her words were short and clipped, as if she assumed Meg otherwise wouldn’t understand their meaning.
“I apologize,” she said again, “but they’ll simply have to wait for the wedding. Charlie and I were thinking more like forty or fifty people, including family.”
“Forty or fifty?” Grace said. She looked at her mother and then burst into laughter. Though Pamela was trying to be more polite, she also had a small grin on her face.
“Now, Grace, let’s remember, this is Meg’s engagement celebration.”
“Yes, mother, I know. But there are certain expectations she can’t possibly understand,” Grace replied. “Charlie is an Ashton, after all.” She was looking at Meg now; of course their mother knew Charlie was an Ashton.
“We could cut the list down a bit, I suppose,” Pamela said, and Meg was thankful she was playing to the middle a bit. “Possibly—two hundred?”
Meg opened her mouth but no sound came out. It wasn’t much of a compromise.
“If I may….” It was Kelly, and Meg could tell by her friend’s expression that she had been biting her tongue almost as long as she could handle, and a wild Irish explosion might happen at any time. “I thought the main purpose of this event was to let the papers know Meg is alive. Would it not be possible to have a small gathering for that purpose, let Charlie propose if he so chooses, and then do a larger party later—when Charlie and Meg are feeling better?”
Meg thought Grace’s looks of disdain were only reserved for her until she saw the expression the elegant brunette gave her friend. “Perhaps it would be better if the help weren’t involved in the planning.”
With one hand on Kelly’s leg to keep her from leaping off of the couch in Charlie’s sitting room and launching her petite frame across the expanse at his sister, Meg said, “Kelly isn’t the help. She’s my friend—more like my sister. She’s here because I value her opinion.”
“With all due respect,” Grace continued, “I’m not quite sure you should be here yourself. Clearly, you’re not feeling well. You should just let us handle it. Let Maurice take your measurements and then retire to your apartment.” Her voice was flat and even, each word measured, like she was weighing Meg’s value and coming up short.
“Grace,” Pamela said, an air of light in her voice, “let’s consider the suggestion.”
“What’s that mother?”
“Perhaps Mrs. O’Connell has a point. Your brother isn’t quite himself. Scaling back our plans now will also give us the opportunity to make a more splendid affair later on.”
“For the wedding,” Meg spoke up. “While I do agree with Kelly that this should be a simple get together, Charlie and I don’t want another engagement party on top of this. A simple engagement announcement, a bit of dancing and music, a lovely meal, and a few friends to enjoy the evening with—that’s what we want. For the wedding, I shall keep my opinions to myself and let you follow through with everything you’ve been planning, so long as we can simplify this event tomorrow evening.” Meg kept her tone calm. She knew she had more power in the situation than the Ashtons were willing to admit; at the end of the day, she was certain Charlie would take her side should it come to that. She hoped it wouldn’t. Hearing Kelly’s opinion made Meg bold enough to insist they see things her way this time.
“Very well then,” Pamela said with a smile of admiration. “If you’d like to limit the number of guests this time, we can rein things in a bit.”
Grace looked disgusted. “Mother?”
“Grace, honestly, you haven’t had the opportunity to visit with your brother much these past few days. If you had, you’d understand. We really need to be… considerate of his condition.”
“Mother, you’re speaking of him like he’s an invalid.”
Pamela cut her daughter off and dismissed all of the merchants and bakers from the room. “If you will wait just outside in the antechamber, I shall call you back in when we have reached an agreement.” She smiled, but it was clearly forced, and Meg watched in awe, wondering what her purpose was.
When the last of them had left, and all of the servants were out of the room as well, Mrs. Ashton looked at her daughter sternly and said, “Grace, Charlie is not quite himself.”
Grace’s nose wrinkled, and for a moment, Meg thought she might see a bit of concern. It was soon replaced with disbelief. “Mother, I’m sure he’s fine.”
“He’s not fine,” Meg interjected. “He’s not well at all.”
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