Meg raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? See whom?”
He pursed his lips together, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he could tell her. “I mean a specific sort of doctor who specializes in this sort of thing.”
Her other eyebrow shot up. “You mean… a psychiatrist?”
He nodded. “I know it might sound desperate. It’s only… I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want anyone to think I’m crazy….”
“A psychiatrist would be the one to say that, though, wouldn’t he?”
“Possibly,” Charlie shrugged. “I think I’m sane enough to stay out of an institution. I hope I am anyway. But I’ve been reading, and some of the techniques these doctors have come up with might help me. Have you read anything by Freud? Or Jung?”
She had heard of Freud but not that other person. “I don’t know much about psychia
Charlie slowly shook his head. “I can’t imagine. Are you certain?”“I’m sad to say I certainly know how to tell when someone is intoxicated—and the smell of whisky cloaked with mint will be ingrained in my brain until the day they bury me.”“I suppose I’ve been so preoccupied with my own problems that I hadn’t even noticed.”“I know, and no one can blame you for that.”“Possibly. But what sort of a friend am I if I didn’t even notice that he was suffering?” He ran his hand through his hair, and Meg wished she hadn’t said anything at all.And yet, she found herself pressing on into dangerous territory. “Charlie, I think there might be other aspects of Jonathan’s life you’re not quite seeing.”He tilted his head to the side and looked deeply into her eyes as if he were trying to read what she was getting at. “No,
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 pla
“And there’s a distinct possibility he may be going back to Southampton soon,” Meg stated, not sure if Charlie’s sister had any knowledge of the potential upcoming trip.Grace looked from her mother to Meg, her mouth agape. Clearly she hadn’t heard. “Why ever would he do that?”“My family is having some problems,” Meg explained, quietly. “I will have to go, and Charlie insists on accompanying me.”“If he’s so ill, he can’t possibly,” Grace said, her eyes like daggers. “Can’t you go by yourself?”“Your father offered to go, but Charlie wouldn’t hear of it,” Pamela explained.“I don’t understand then. If he’s well enough to go to Southampton, he should be well enough to attend a ball in his honor,” the older sister insisted.“We simply cannot overwhelm him,” Pamela said, clutching her
“I’m sorry I wasn’t much help in there,” Kelly said, a sympathetic look in her eyes.“On the contrary, you were invaluable,” Meg assured her. “I never would’ve had the courage to say what I did if it weren’t for you speaking your mind first.”“I’m afraid I just riled things up,” Kelly muttered.“Not at all.”“Do I even want to know?” Charlie asked, looking from one lady to the other.“No,” they both said at the same time. Then, Meg added, “I shall let you know shortly.”“Are we having a party tomorrow?” Ruth asked.“Grownups are having a party tomorrow,” Kelly corrected. “Little girls are having a sleep over at Mrs. Wagner’s house down the hall from our place.”“Awww!” Ruth moaned, her shoulders falling.“When you’re a bit bigger, y
“What in the world?” Meg asked, looking to Charlie for some answers.He opened his mouth as if he might explain, but just then there was the loud clank of metal on glass, and they both jumped. The Master of Ceremonies, a gentleman Meg had met earlier by the name of Mr. Hill, was calling for everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have Mr. Ashton’s immediate family and Miss Westmoreland to the library, please, the photographers have assembled there. The rest of you, please make your way outside to the garden, and we shall join you shortly.”While in theory it seemed a good idea to have the guests begin to make their way outside as the family prepared to be photographed, doing so caused Meg and Charlie to have to cross through a throng of people who were crowding through the exit. Most people were willing to let them pass if they were paying attention, but it seemed Stella wasn’t the only one who may have had too mu
A few moments later, they heard a distinct throat clearing at the end of the hallway and realized Jonathan was waiting for them. Pulling themselves apart, Meg brushed the tear streaks from her face, and Charlie looped his arm through hers and led her down the hall, as if they were walking to the firing squad instead of a group of alleged friends.Once they reached the end of the hallway where Jonathan stood, the liegeman whispered sharply, “Your sister is about to have a conniption thinking you’ve snuck off somewhere.”“We are just slow walkers,” Charlie assured him, amused.“I’ll let you explain yourself to her. She assumed you were right behind her.”“We were. Right behind her—far, far behind her.” Charlie looked at Meg, a twinkle in his eyes.“I believe you will need the ring back if you’re to give her the ring in front of everyone,” Jonathan reminded them.
Most of the crowd was so absorbed in staring at the bright, colorful lights overhead, they likely didn’t even notice their host and his bride-to-be had been transported to another time. It wasn’t until Meg and Jonathan began to guide Charlie back toward the house that some of them seemed to see something was the matter as the trio had to pass through many of the guests in order to get inside. As she approached the door, her arm around Charlie’s midsection as Jonathan held him from behind, Meg realized she’d collected Kelly and Daniel who looked just as frightened as Meg felt.Once inside, Meg kept right on walking, headed toward the parlor where she thought guests might leave them be and the firecrackers might not be so loud, though the popping sound followed them through the house, and each time another burst, all of them jumped to some degree or another.Meg led Charlie over to the sofa and forced him to sit as he began to stammer out some sor
Mauretania seemed eerily similar to Titanic, but Meg wouldn’t allow herself to think about that. She’d boarded the ship much differently this time, as a First Class passenger, under her own name, and the captain himself had come by to make sure she was comfortable and to assure her there was nothing to fear. While Meg was fairly certain she would manage the week-long voyage well enough, she was worried about Charlie. He had given in to his mother’s insistence that the family physician, Dr. Shaw, be brought along, and it was comforting to know someone so familiar with Charlie’s medical history was nearby, particularly since this one had not given him any medication that might make him forget his fiancée.They had opted for interior rooms on the lowest floor possible of First Class accommodations in hopes that there would be less movement and fewer reminders that they were out on the water again, but Meg ended up feeling more tra
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