Mother
“We were so relieved to hear that you weren’t harmed, particularly when we learned of the disaster at sea. Such a tragedy. Thank God you were all safe.”
Meg cleared her throat. “Would it be possible for Bertram to join us? I want to say what I have come to tell you only once.”
“Well, as I said, he’s resting….”
“Wake him,” Charlie said, and his tone was enough to make Mildred recoil slightly, something Meg didn’t think she’d ever seen before.
“Very well,” Mildred said. “Just a moment.”
Charlie stood as her mother rose from her chair to go find her uncle, and Meg felt ill. He reclaimed his seat as soon as it was polite to do so and rested his hand on her arm. “It will be all right, darling. You’ve nothing to be afraid of.”
“I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to smell him. I don’t want to hear the sound of his voice.”
“I know. It will all be over shortly.”
There was movement in the adjoining dining room, and Meg saw the familiar skirt and apron of the lone servant who still occupied the residence. “Tessa?” she called. “Is that you?”
“Meg!” Tessa proclaimed bounding into the room. “How are you, love?”
“I’m well,” Meg replied, standing and wrapping her arms around the older woman. “And you?”
“About as well as can be expected, I suppose. Your mother asked that I stay in the back.”
“I understand,” Meg said. “I was hoping to see you, though.”
“It’s wonderful to see you, child. You look just lovely.”
“Thank you.” She turned to Charlie and said, “This is Tessa. She’s been here for several years.”
“We’ve actually met,” Charlie reminded her, standing to take Tessa’s offered hand. “Nice to see you, Tessa.”
“You as well, sir.” Returning her attention to Meg, she said, “I’m not sure what I’ll do if… well, if Mr. Westmoreland can’t keep up with the place, but God willin’ I’ll find something.”
“Don’t you worry about that, Tessa. We’ll take care of you.”
Tessa’s face melted. “Oh, God bless you, child.” She hugged Meg again. A noise above them made her start, and Meg knew that Bertram’s room was just over the dining room, which meant they were likely on their way down. “Take care, sweet girl.”
“You as well,” Meg replied, squeezing Tessa’s hand one more time as she scurried off to the kitchen.
Meg reclaimed the chair she’d been sitting in, though she knew it was her uncle’s preferred place. He’d just have to find another spot. “Why aren’t the others in here?” she whispered to Charlie.
“I believe they wanted you to have a chance to say what you needed to in private.”
“What if he sees them and takes off?”
“I believe Jonathan can outrun your elderly uncle.”
“He’s a lot spryer than you might think,” Meg reminded him. She would’ve never thought him capable of some of his most recent feats.
Charlie took her hand, and when Meg saw her uncle enter the room, every fiber of her being cinched up tightly, as if someone were pulling at her corset strings.
His eyes were more bloodshot than she’d ever remembered seeing them. His clothing was wrinkled, and she thought he truly must have been sleeping in it, while the gray hair atop his head looked as if it had been wetted and pressed down, likely by her mother. In all the years they had lived under the same roof, he had never said more than a few words to her outside of her own bedroom, so she steeled herself for what he might say now.
Mildred walked in and sat across from Meg, leaving the seat across from Charlie for Bertram. He looked them over and tipped his head slightly. Meg felt Charlie’s grip tighten, and she knew he was wishing they’d brought a gun with them just as much as she was.
“Mary Margaret,” Bertram said quietly, the sound of his voice grating through her brain like the accidental catch of a fingernail on a slate tablet.
“Bertram,” she said, forcing the word out as if it were a curse. “This is Charles Ashton.”
Bertram nodded at Charlie, who did not even blink in response.
Meg cleared her throat. “I’ve come to discuss the contract with the pair of you and the legal circumstances you find yourselves in.”
Mildred looked around, as if she wasn’t sure why Meg might imply she was in any legal trouble.
“Accessories often go to prison, too, you know, Mother.”
“Accessories? To what?” Mildred asked.
Meg shook her head. “Everything. You are more than aware of every single thing that happens at Westmoreland Textiles and in this house.”
“Mary Margaret, I assure you, there’s nothing to the accusations the banks are making. We’ve been nothing but compliant with the laws….”
“Funny you are willing to use the word ‘we’ when you talk about compliance but it seems if the police find otherwise, you suddenly know nothing.”
Mildred didn’t say a word. Meg supposed it was because there was nothing to say.
“This is the situation. As you know, if I marry Charlie before my birthday, you will each receive twenty-five thousand pounds. If I wait until after my birthday, you won’t.”
“We know,” Mildred said, quietly. “Surely, you will want to honor your father’s wishes and proceed with the contract before your birthday. That’s what he meant for you.”
“Since when do either of you care what my father wanted for me?” Her tone was still calm, but Meg could feel the rage growing under the surface. She was thankful for Charlie’s hand or else she may have lost control of herself already.
Mildred looked at Bertram, who was staring at the floor. Meg wondered if he’d drunk himself into oblivion so many times over the years there was nothing left in his head. “Mary Margaret,” Mildred said quietly, “I know you are upset about certain events, but I assure you, there’s no need to dwell on those things now. What’s past is past.”
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