New York City
“I can’t make heads or tails of it,” John Ashton was saying as he sipped a whisky in his study, Charlie and Pamela seated nearby. “She swears she’s not the one who contacted the newspapers, but if she didn’t, then who did?”
“Why would she make a declaration in the press—in Southampton, London, and New York—and then deny it? It honestly makes no sense at all,” Pamela agreed, shaking her head.
“Well, what did she say when you asked her if she intended to honor the content of the newspaper article?” Charlie asked. Though he thought it was ridiculous of Mrs. Westmoreland to deny making the announcement of his engagement to her daughter public, when clearly she had to have done it since his parents had not, what really mattered was whether or not this meant he was, in fact, engaged to Mary Margaret, and what should happen next.
“She said it would be difficult to t
SouthamptonTwo long days passed between the incident between Kelly and Uncle Bertram without Meg being allowed to see her friend. As soon as the doctor had arrived, he’d assessed the situation and moved her to the sofa in the parlor. After the bleeding was controlled, she’d been moved to her room. Daniel and Kelly’s mother had been allowed to visit, but the doctor explained he thought it best if everyone else allow her to rest. She’d overheard him explaining to Mildred, “If she isn’t allowed to get some sleep, she’ll lose the baby for sure.”The baby. Kelly was carrying a child, and she hadn’t told Meg yet. Now that she was allowed to speak to her friend, she wasn’t sure if she should say anything about it at all for fear of upsetting her, but how could Kelly keep such a secret from her?Patsy was sitting on the end of Kelly’s bed when Meg came in, and when she realized who had interrupted their
As the months passed, Kelly recovered nicely, and by late spring she was showing. Though Mildred struggled with displaying kindness to others, she was willing to give some leniency, and Kelly’s duties lightened after the incident. Clearly, she had a soft spot in her heart for Patsy, though Meg was a bit surprised to see any evidence that her mother had a heart at all.When Meg questioned her about the newspaper, Mildred insisted she knew nothing about the article or who had posted it. She said she would inquire to see if the Ashtons had released the information, but whenever Meg brought the subject up again, she would simply change the topic of conversation to something else or pretend not to hear. Meg was certain her mother must have been the one to make the information public, but she couldn’t understand why she would do such a thing and then not take responsibility for it. Was she just trying to see how far the Ashtons were willing to go?Meg continued t
John Ashton had found himself in a bit of a predicament. He had to arrange a business meeting with Dexter Townly to ensure his calendar was clear and that he would be in town. Yet, he planned to surprise Mildred Westmoreland while he was in town. Coming out and directly telling Townly that Mildred knew nothing of the visit wouldn’t do; it would seem odd and suspicious. Likewise, he couldn’t lie and say that he was certainly visiting the Westmorelands or else Townly might feel compelled to bring it up, should he see Mildred or Bertram at an event. Therefore, he decided to leave the entire topic alone and hope that everything turned out for the best in the end.As he sat in the Townly home, Charlie at his side, across from Mr. and Mrs. Townly and their two daughters, Beatrice Townly Huxton and Alise, his mind began to wonder. He’d already met with Dexter earlier that day, and while he’d allowed Charlie to have a hand at the negotiations, which had taken
Meg found the letter on her pillow, and hesitated to open it. On the one hand, she hoped with each letter that Charlie would say he refused to be her husband and they could call the entire arrangement off. On the other hand, she hated to disappoint her father, and while she wasn’t sure whether or not God was looking down on her or not most of the time, she was fairly certain her father was. With a shrug and a sigh, she tossed herself down on the bed and tore the envelope open.April 9, 1909Dear Miss Westmoreland,I apologize that it has been quite some time since I have written. I wish that I had an excuse, but in all honesty, it has been out of aggravation more than anything else. I will apologize for my frustration, since I’m certain there was no way you could have guessed that my father and I were planning to pay you a visit on our trip to Southampton, but I was sincerely looking for
CambridgeCharlie was on his way to the dining hall for the evening meal when he bumped into Quincy. Though they no longer went out together socially, as Charlie had been able to stick with his resolve to stay focused on his studies, they still had several classes together and remained friends. A few months before, when Quincy had feared he’d gotten a young woman pregnant, he had rushed to Charlie for help and advice. Though it turned out to be for nothing, the incident had brought Quincy back to earth a bit, and Charlie noticed that he was not spending as much time at parties as he had been before. It had also brought them closer together.“How’s life?” Quincy asked. “Have you heard from Mary Margaret lately?”There was a time when Charlie would have assumed the question was asked in ridicule, but not anymore. When Quincy realized that Charlie was serious about his obligation, he had begun to take his side, even though he had
SouthamptonThe change in her mother’s disposition since Charlie had agreed to begin sending them a bit of money was unbelievable to Meg; it was as if she had transformed into some sort of happy-go-lucky girl. It wasn’t what Meg would consider a fortune, but it was enough to make sure necessities were accounted for and the lights stayed on at least.Mildred had instructed her daughter to describe a party she wanted to have and to ask for enough money for an auto in the first letter. Of course, the money would go to neither of those things. Meg didn’t even need a motor coach of her own anyway. She would much rather ride on horseback if she had to go somewhere close by, and her uncle was rarely home anymore, but his own auto was often parked in the garage where she could get Bitterly to drive her if she needed.In her last letter, she’d asked for enough for a new dress and some proper jewelry, and Charlie had sent it, asking for a picture o
Once they were several miles away from town and hadn’t seen another person or vehicle for at least fifteen minutes, Ezra pulled over. “Would you like to have a go?” he asked Meg, gesturing at the steering wheel.“Me? Drive a motor coach?” Meg asked, shocked.“Why not?” he asked.“Why, I wouldn’t know the first thing.”“It’s not difficult. I can teach you,” he replied. Before she had the opportunity to decline again, he began going over all of the various parts, showing her how they worked.When he’d finished, Meg decided it sounded simple enough. Deciding one only lived once, she shrugged and said, “All right then. Why not?”They quickly switched seats, and once she was behind the steering wheel, she realized her hands were shaking. “We’ll just take it nice and slow,” Ezra cautioned.Meg eased up on the clutch and put in t
New York City“As you can see, our workers are very busy,” Max Blanck explained to Charlie as he showed him around the work floor of his textile company, Triangle Shirtwaist. “We employee over six hundred workers, most of them young women. We prefer recent immigrants, as we want to give them the opportunity to make something of themselves.”Charlie was interested in visiting other textile companies since he would be running one himself someday—or at least he thought he would be. He was looking to do some investing of his own, and Triangle was known around the city for being able to fill large quotas quickly. Charlie wanted to see how it was done.As Mr. Blanck continued to talk up his establishment, Charlie couldn’t help but notice the girls all looked tired and worn out. The factory was stuffy without a lot of ventilation. The area was also very crowded. “How much are their wages?” Charlie asked, cutting off the s
She’d been in Charlie’s bedroom a few times before, but this time was certainly different. Butterflies fluttered around her stomach, some of the nervous variety, but most of them fueled by excitement.They were sitting on the edge of his bed, the door closed and locked, the drapes pulled tightly. She knew that there were a few servants elsewhere in the house, but they would leave the couple undisturbed at least until mid-morning. Glancing up at him, she could see that he felt much the same way that she did.“It turned out quite well, don’t you think?” Charlie asked, clearly meaning the wedding.“Yes,” Meg nodded.“Even though a few guests certainly had too much to drink.”She giggled, thinking of one older gentleman who had made quite a spectacle of himself trying to climb atop one of the tables to dance. He had been escorted out, but Meg was thankful for the diversion. For once, everyone wasn&r
Ruth looked adorable in her pink dress, which hung to the floor, nearly tripping her as she danced around her parents. Kelly had stood beside Meg, along with Grace, and Charlie had been proud to have both Walter—who turned out to be every bit as silly as Charlie had described—and Quincy on his side.Now, it was all over, except for the reception. Then, Meg would return to Charlie’s house—the house they would share together—and embark on a new adventure, that of being Mrs. Charles Ashton.“Meg Ashton,” she said aloud, once the last of the well-wishers had moved along. “What do you think?”Charlie was already grinning from ear to ear, but his face brightened even more. “I think it sounds remarkable.”“That’s my name now, you know? Meg Ashton.”“What about Mary Margaret Ashton?” he asked, leaning close to her ear.“Heaven’s no. That&rsquo
Sitting next to Meg alone in the overly opulent dining room, Charlie couldn’t help but smile. Even though the voices still clung to him, he had a feeling Dr. Morgan could actually help. For the first time since he’d arrived back in New York City, he felt hopeful that he could return to his former self.“You look awfully chipper this evening,” Meg said, as she took a sip of her soup. “I suppose that means Dr. Morgan was helpful?”“It does,” Charlie admitted, noting how lovely she looked in the light blue gown she wore. It made her eyes sparkle. “He really does know precisely what to ask and how to ask it.”“Are you studying him as much as he’s studying you?” she asked, amusement pulling at the corners of her exquisite lips.He looked at her for a moment, his head tipped to the side a bit, seeing if she would break into a giggle. She did. “And what if I am?”&ld
Dr. Morgan’s office was on the third floor of a five story building, nestled between two similar looking offices, and Charlie attempted to be discreet as he slipped inside for the first time. He knew that the field of psychiatry was growing in acceptance, yet he didn’t necessarily want to make an announcement to the world that he needed help. However, the accompanying chorus of voices that stepped off of the elevator with him was a reminder that he hadn’t been capable of getting better on his own.The receptionist was an older woman with a nice smile. She asked Charlie to wait one moment while she informed Dr. Morgan that he was there, and though there were a few leather bound chairs to choose from, Charlie chose to stand instead. He peeked beneath the curtains at the few autos and pedestrians traveling about below and wondered if any of those people belonged in here as much as he did.“Mr. Ashton!” Dr. Morgan said, his quiet voice still s
Meg sat on a plush sofa in Maurice’s shop near Columbus Circle. From here, she could see the people outside bustling by on a warm June day, and she wondered where they were going and if any of them would mind if she went along. She’d rather be just about anywhere else.“I like the taffeta,” Grace was saying, “though with that tulle underneath, it seems a bit too… poofy, don’t you think?”It wasn’t Meg she was speaking to, so she remained silent, watching a plump, older woman proceed down the sidewalk with a little boy who she believed might be the woman’s grandson. He seemed reluctant to walk, and Meg imagined they must have had a disagreement. Perhaps he wanted a snack from one of the many street vendors, and Grandmother had said no….“Meg? Are you listening?”She turned her head to see Pamela addressing her. “I’m sorry—were you speaking to me?”
“The brain is still quite a mystery,” Dr. Morgan was saying as he sat across from Charlie in a plush velvet chair, Dr. Shaw seated nearby. Circles of smoke lingered around them from the cigars of several dozen gentlemen seated in similar groupings, discussing business and other inconsequentialities. Jonathan and Edward were sitting across the room, and Charlie glanced in his friend’s direction every once in a while, noting that he seemed unusually amused about something.“I’ve been reading Freud’s theories of psychoanalysis,” Charlie said with a nod. “Do you think there’s any truth to his findings? Particularly regarding the unconscious mind?”Dr. Morgan nodded. “I can’t say that I completely agree with all that Freud has to say, but I do with his theory that the unconscious mind plays a larger role in our actions than we previously understood.”“Do you believe memories can be tr
The First Class dining experience aboard the passenger liner they’d booked the next day to take them home was nothing compared to Titanic, and the ship was much smaller, which made the rocking more obvious, but as Meg sat next to Charlie at dinner, she was just happy to have him with her. She had been right in thinking he’d be more at ease on the way home.They’d insisted on having Jonathan and Carrie accompany them, and no one had objected. Dr. Shaw belonged there with them as much as anyone else, but Meg enjoyed watching Carrie’s face as others served her for a change, and Meg thought she looked lovely in one of her gowns.They’d spoken at great length about all that had transpired, and yet, from time to time, someone would still muse aloud, bringing the most astounding topics back to the conversation. Meg hadn’t allowed herself to shed a single tear for either Bertram or her mother, and she was hopeful that Ezra would get
Mildred only raised her eyebrows at Charlie but didn’t say a word about his blunt statement of what Meg certainly saw as the truth. “I shall go upstairs and fetch Bertram for you,” Mildred said, glancing at the detective before she turned to ascend the stairs. “It will give me the opportunity to say goodbye to him privately.”Meg was certain that last comment was a jab at her, her mother implying what Meg had always known was true, that the relationship between her mother and uncle was more than either of them were ever willing to admit to, but Meg ignored it. The emotions running through her mind were too much, even for her carefully guarded compartments, and she felt like she might begin to crumble at any moment.“Miss Westmoreland, we are prepared to take your statement whenever you are ready,” the detective said quietly, a weak smile pulling at one corner of his mouth out of politeness.“Give her a few moments,
They began to make their way through the kitchen, and Meg noticed Tessa had moved on to some sort of baking. She offered a smile but said nothing as they passed through. Meg made a mental note to make sure that Tessa received enough money that she wouldn’t have to work anymore. It was the least she could do for the woman who’d served her mother and put up with her uncle for so long.Mildred was standing in the foyer speaking to an officer Meg didn’t recognize. The other officers Det. Weber had mentioned must have arrived, because several men in uniforms stood both inside the entryway and on the porch. Officer Brown was speaking to the ones on the porch, and Meg decided to wait for him to notice her rather than announce her presence and be forced to get on with her report of what happened with her uncle any sooner than necessary.“Mary Margaret,” Mildred said, turning to face her daughter. “You’ve returned. Did you get everythin