“What sort of trouble?” Mr. Halsey asked Charlie.
Rather than answer, he deferred to Meg, glancing in her direction to let her know he assumed she could respond for herself. “The papers are reporting he is being investigated for money laundering amongst other things.”
The lawyers looked at one another for a few moments before Mr. Halsey cleared his throat and said, “Generally speaking, under such circumstances, a convicted criminal appoints someone to handle his finances. I would assume your uncle would choose your mother, in which case she would essentially receive all of the contracted amount.”
Meg thought that would likely be the case, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She knew she could simply wait a bit longer before marrying Charlie so that neither of them got any of the money, but that was becoming less and less of an option with every moment she spent with Charlie.
“What other questions did
Once they’d reached the hallway, Jonathan signaled for Carrie to follow them, which she did at a distance. Turning to Meg, he asked, “Are you well?”“I’m fine,” she admitted. “I must admit I’ve never sat in a room full of lawyers before.”“You handled yourself quite respectfully,” Jonathan assured her.When he turned to speak to her, Meg noticed more than the scent of mint she usually associated with him. There was another familiar smell as well, and she realized why he wasn’t quite himself. “Are you feeling well, Jonathan?” she asked.“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?” He held open the back door for her and she was happy for the cool breeze that brushed away the smell of whiskey, a scent she could’ve done without.“I don’t know,” she replied, taking his arm again. “You just don’t seem quite like yourself today
Meg did find a way to doze off, and it was nearly supper time when Carrie finally roused her, insisting she get up now and get dressed or else she would be late for the evening meal. “Mr. Lane stopped by and said that it is important that you are well dressed this evening,” the brunette informed her mistress as she dragged her from the living room into the bedroom.Though her mind was still a bit foggy from her nap, Meg yawned and asked, “Why do you insist on calling him Mr. Lane? He is also in the employment of the Ashtons, the same as you.”Carrie was digging through the armoire and only turned to look at Meg briefly before shrugging and saying, “Everyone calls him Mr. Lane. He’s… more important than most of the other servants. Just as everyone calls Mr. Ashton’s second Mr. Pointer and Mrs. Ashton’s lady Ms. Dumont.”Sitting down on the edge of her bed and contemplating rolling over onto her side and
“We can have that lovely orchestra that Josie and Walter used at their daughter’s coming out party, what are they called? The Moonlight Waltz, or something or other. Oh, and when you officially propose at the engagement party, we can do it outside so we can use firecrackers, just like they did at that wedding we attended in France. It’ll be wonderful.”Meg’s fork was poised over her salmon, but her eyes were glued to Charlie’s across the table from her, neither of them even blinking.“Mother, I really don’t think all of that is necessary. At all,” Charlie began, not losing hold of Meg’s eyes.“Please, Charlie. My only son will only be getting engaged once,” Pamela insisted.Meg cleared her throat but said nothing, and rather than taking a bite she moved some of her carrots around on her plate so that it might appear as if she were eating.“Honestly, Mother, I appreciate t
“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 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