Meg at Sixteen

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Meg at Sixteen Page 12

by Susan Beth Pfeffer


  “No money,” Nick said. “Just whatever’s in your pocketbook. Things are risky enough without theft charges.”

  “Then how will we manage?” Meg asked. “We’ll need transportation to wherever we’re going.”

  “I have the money for that,” Nick replied.

  “If you have money, then why are you staying in a boardinghouse?” Meg asked.

  “I have enough money to get me through Princeton,” Nick said. “Enough for clothes and food as long as I’m careful. Nobody expects me to be rich there, but I can’t seem like a bum either. But if I’m not going back to Princeton, then I certainly have the funds to pay for bus tickets for both of us, and a couple of nights at a hotel somewhere as our honeymoon, and then an apartment for us until I can get a job.”

  “I’ll get the job,” Meg said. “You have to complete your education.”

  “I’m not spending the rest of my life with a high-school dropout,” Nick said. “I’ll work, you’ll finish school. I can take night classes somewhere. Don’t worry. We’ll both end up with as many degrees as we want.”

  “So we take a bus,” Meg said. She’d argue with Nick about his education some other time. “And we get married, and then we disappear. I don’t care where we live, just as long as we’re together.”

  “Neither do I,” Nick said. “Maybe we’ll stick a pin in a map and find our home that way.”

  “Home,” Meg said.

  Nick smiled. “I know,” he said. “It is an amazing word.”

  “I’ll make you a beautiful home,” Meg promised him. “I’ll make you a home you’ll always be happy in.”

  “You have to get back,” Nick said. “If Grace finds out you’re gone, we’ll both be in big trouble.”

  “I know,” Meg said. “I love you so much, Nicky.”

  “I love you, Daisy,” he said. “Mrs. Nick Sebastian. Now let’s get you to your room.”

  “Kiss me first,” she said, and he did.

  “Mrs. Nick Sebastian,” Meg whispered to herself as she and Nick hugged for one last time. “Mrs. Nick Sebastian.” Those three words held a universe of promise for her, a universe she’d enter into in less than a week.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Meg awoke the next morning to find her bedroom door unlocked. After showering off any remaining sand from the night before, and dressing, she went downstairs and had breakfast with Aunt Grace.

  “How did you sleep?” Grace asked as she finished her second cup of coffee. It was a more personal question than Meg was accustomed to.

  “Not very well,” Meg replied. “I had a lot to think about.”

  “And did you reach any conclusions?” Aunt Grace asked.

  Meg thought of all the conclusions she had reached and tried not to smile. “I hope I didn’t disturb you,” she said. “I woke up a couple of times and reread the report. I’m sorry I turned the light back on.”

  “It’s understandable given the circumstances,” Aunt Grace said. “I’m sure you won’t make a habit of it. Keeping late hours is most unhealthy for a girl your age.”

  Meg nodded. “I felt compelled to read it again and again,” she said.

  “Ordinarily, one should not give in to compulsion,” Aunt Grace declared. “But these were unusual circumstances. Did you feel the need to read it again this morning?”

  Did everything have to be a land mine with Aunt Grace? “Not this morning,” Meg said. “Not after three A.M., really. It was then that I realized just how much I owed you, how kind and generous you’ve been to me.”

  “And what led you to that conclusion?” Aunt Grace asked.

  Bald-faced lying, Meg wanted to reply. Even the truth, that she did feel a touch of gratitude when she compared her childhood to Nick’s, wouldn’t do as an answer. “I really thought I loved him,” she said, not even willing to mention Nick’s name to Grace. “And thanks to you and your willingness to hire those detectives, I discovered that all I loved was a pack of lies.”

  Aunt Grace nodded. She clearly expected more.

  “I’m very young,” Meg said, choosing her words carefully, aiming for that level of groveling that Aunt Grace would find most appealing. “I think sometimes that I know what’s best for me, but that’s just foolishness. Foolishness I hope I’ll outgrow, especially with your guidance. Without an aunt, without a guardian, like you, protecting me, teaching me, I might make all kinds of reckless mistakes. The reckless mistakes of youth.”

  “Yes?” Aunt Grace said. She appeared insatiable.

  “And I suppose I’ve inherited my parents’ reckless natures as well,” Meg said. She hated Aunt Grace then with a clarity that startled even her. “What I always thought of as being adventuresome was really being irresponsible.” She offered a thousand silent apologies to the memory of her beautiful, perfect parents.

  “You’ve given this matter a great deal of thought,” Aunt Grace said. “And I am impressed with how well you worded those thoughts. None of the mumbling I’ve gotten accustomed to from you. I’m pleased to see this new spirit in you, Margaret. It bodes well for your future.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Grace,” Meg said.

  “Very well,” Aunt Grace said. “From now on, there will be no need for us to discuss Mr. Sebastian again. I don’t doubt that there will be moments you’ll think of him, romance is like that, but your life is on its proper course once again, and you will not stray from it.”

  “No, Aunt Grace,” Meg said.

  “However, you still have many acts you must atone for,” Aunt Grace stated. “Come with me to the morning room, and we’ll discuss there what must be done next.”

  Meg left her half-finished breakfast and followed her aunt into the room where less than twenty-four hours before they’d all sat around reading the detective’s report. Aunt Grace sat on her customary chair, and indicated to Meg that she should sit on the same chair Nick had used. It comforted Meg to remember him there.

  Aunt Grace closed the door, which meant that she didn’t care for the servants overhearing. Meg marveled that Grace could think there were still some secrets worth preserving after the past few days.

  “Your remorse appears genuine,” Aunt Grace said. “Of course it might simply be inspired by fear of your future.”

  “I am afraid,” Meg replied. She was, too, although the idea of Thursday was keeping her strong enough to be dishonest.

  “I spoke to Marcus yesterday,” Aunt Grace said. “Naturally he wanted to know what your response was to the report. I intend to speak to him today as well, and inform him of our conversation.”

  Meg nodded.

  “I was concerned about your crying,” Aunt Grace declared. “I thought you had succumbed to hysteria, and might be better off in a more peaceful surrounding. But Marcus said that his wife and daughters frequently wept over the most trivial matters, and unless you continued to cry, it was probably not a sign of constitutional weakness.”

  “I’m sorry if I worried you, Aunt Grace,” Meg said. Had she been that close to the sanitarium and not even realized it?

  “You’re mumbling again, Margaret,” Aunt Grace said. “No wonder your appeal is only to men of the lower classes. You must learn to speak clearly if you wish any sort of social success.”

  Meg felt herself shriveling inside. I am strong and brave and beautiful, she told herself, but without Nick in the room, she didn’t believe it.

  “Marcus and I remain uncertain what the nature of your punishment should be,” Aunt Grace told Meg. “Marcus has a very kind heart, you know, and he feels that if you have indeed learned your lesson, there is no need for undue harshness on our parts.”

  Meg nodded. She didn’t dare cry again, but it was hard to look at Aunt Grace and not start weeping.

  “Raise your head, Margaret,” Aunt Grace said. “I expect you to look at me while I’m speaking to you.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg replied. Nicky loves me, she told herself. On Thursday we’ll be married.

  “I have two tasks for y
ou this morning,” Aunt Grace declared. “How you perform them will go a long way in determining what the next few weeks will be like.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg said.

  “They are both in the forms of apologies,” Aunt Grace said. “First, you are to write a letter of remorse and appreciation to Marcus. It is the very least that you owe him. You will write it here, and I’ll read it as soon as you are finished.”

  Meg nodded. “That’s a good idea,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “Then we are expected at the Bradford cottage,” Aunt Grace said. “Where you will apologize to Mr. Bradford for the rude manner with which you addressed him last Sunday.”

  In Meg’s memory, Mr. Bradford was the rude one, bursting into her house to repeat nasty gossip, but she knew better than to protest. “You’re right,” she said instead. “I owe him an apology. Thank you again.”

  “Very well,” Aunt Grace said. “There is stationery and a pen waiting for you. Make your note short to Marcus. He is a busy man and has better things to do with his time than to read letters from foolish girls.”

  Then why are you making me write one? Meg thought, but she walked over to Aunt Grace’s desk, picked up the pen, and carefully worded her note.

  July 12

  Dear Uncle Marcus,

  For the past two weeks, I have been a burden upon both Aunt Grace and you, and I want to apologize for my rebellious and unthinking behavior.

  “Be certain to denounce Mr. Sebastian in your note,” Aunt Grace said. “Marcus will want to see that you’ve come to your senses.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg replied.

  I had the misfortune to meet a young man at my birthday party who, because of his charm and good looks, made me forget who I am and what my obligations are.

  I cannot denounce you, Nicky, she thought, not the way Aunt Grace wants me to.

  Because of the firm, yet loving, guidance that you and Aunt Grace have given me throughout your years of guardianship, I was able to see the error of my ways.

  I know my behavior of late has been inexcusable, and I can never make up for the worry and alarm I have caused you. But I shall try everything in my powers to erase this shameful experience from your memory.

  The love and kindness you have shown me since my parents’ deaths have been a constant beacon of strength for me. I know how fortunate I am to have you as my uncle.

  With much love and gratitude,

  Margaret

  She handed the note to Aunt Grace, who read it quickly. “I see you mention Mr. Sebastian’s good looks and charm,” she said. “But you seem to have left out his squalid background and deceit.”

  “I’m sorry,” Meg said.

  “Marcus will not believe you’re sincere unless you show him you understand Mr. Sebastian’s true nature,” Aunt Grace said. “And frankly, neither will I.”

  The only way they’ll believe me is if I lie, Meg thought. She took a second sheet of paper and wrote a new paragraph on it.

  Because of the loving vigilance that you and Aunt Grace have shown, I was able to learn of the young man’s lack of breeding and dishonest nature. His like will never deceive me again.

  Aunt Grace read the paragraph. “That’s better,” she said. “But Marcus will expect you to mention how he was merely after your money.”

  “Why?” Meg protested.

  “You are not in a position to demand explanations,” Aunt Grace replied. “However, I’ll give you one. Marcus is an extremely wealthy man, far richer than I, and he has the rich man’s worry that his children will all wed gold diggers. His most recurring complaint to me over the past few days has been that with his own children to worry about, now you were forcing him to worry about you as well. If you tell him you understand that Mr. Sebastian was interested merely in your fortune, should I choose to leave my estate to you, Marcus will feel a great sense of relief. So for his sake, as well as your own, rewrite the paragraph.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg said.

  Because of the loving vigilance that you and Aunt Grace have shown, I was able to learn of the young man’s lack of breeding and dishonest nature. Painful though this is for me to admit, he was obviously after my money and had no real feelings for me. His like will never deceive me again.

  “Excellent,” Aunt Grace said. “Now write out three copies, one for Marcus, one for me, and one for yourself. You need only address one envelope.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg said.

  “And be sure to use your best penmanship,” Aunt Grace said. “You’re very careless crossing your t’s, Margaret.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Grace,” Meg said. She wrote the three copies, signed them all, then handed them to Aunt Grace for inspection. Grace nodded, took one for herself, and gave Meg an envelope, which she then addressed.

  “I shall not be able to prompt you when you apologize to Mr. Bradford,” Aunt Grace said. “Perhaps it might be wise if we rehearsed your remarks here, so that you will say the appropriate things to him.”

  “I’m to apologize for my rudeness,” Meg said. “Is there anything else I need to say?”

  “Mr. Bradford was kind enough to warn you of Mr. Sebastian’s true nature,” Aunt Grace said. “Don’t you think you should thank him for that?”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Grace,” Meg said. “Of course I should.”

  “Very well,” she said. “Say to me what you will say to Mr. Bradford.”

  Meg nodded. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bradford,” she began.

  “Stand up, Margaret,” Aunt Grace said.

  “I’m sorry,” Meg said, standing up by the desk. “I mean, I’m sorry, Mr. Bradford.”

  “Look at me when you speak,” Aunt Grace said. “I do not understand why you find the floor so endlessly fascinating.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg said. She forced herself to look up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bradford, for my rude behavior last Sunday.”

  “Don’t lick your lips,” Aunt Grace said. “A disgusting habit.”

  “I’m sorry,” Meg said, “I didn’t realize.”

  “There’s a great deal you fail to realize,” Aunt Grace declared. “William Bradford is a very important man in Boston. Had it not been for his childhood friendship with Reggie, I doubt he would have allowed any closeness between you and Clark. That closeness could someday result in marriage, a match which might ordinarily be beyond your expectations. No matter how fine your family is, Margaret, you are penniless and dependent on the charity of others.”

  “I’m very grateful,” Meg said.

  “William Bradford will expect you to show him some of that gratitude as well,” Aunt Grace said. “He did not have to come here on Sunday to warn us of Mr. Sebastian’s misdeeds. He could simply have forbidden Clark to have any future contact with you, which he may still do, unless you can convince him that you are genuinely apologetic for your behavior on Sunday, and that you realize it is only his kindness that allows you your friendship with Clark.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg said.

  “You might also think about that friendship with Clark,” Grace declared. “And how it and it alone may save your place in society. For if the Bradfords turn their backs to you, then you can be sure you will never be welcome in the better homes again.”

  On Thursday, I’m marrying Nicky, Meg thought, but the longer she stayed talking with Aunt Grace, the harder it was to believe in that dream.

  “Now say to me what you will say to William Bradford,” Aunt Grace said. “Without mumbling, Margaret, or staring down at the floor.”

  Meg took a moment to compose herself. “I wish to apologize for my rudeness on Sunday, Mr. Bradford,” she said. “I know how kind it was of you to come to my aunt’s house and warn us about Mr. Sebastian.” She glanced at Aunt Grace to see if that was enough.

  “Go on,” Aunt Grace said. “You have far more than that to be grateful for.”

  “I’ve always appreciated the generosity you and Mrs. Bradford have shown me over the years,”
Meg said. “Allowing me into your home, treating me almost as a member of your family.”

  “That’s good,” Aunt Grace said. “Now mention how wrong it was of you to reject such kindness with your thoughtless words on Sunday.”

  “It was wrong of me to reject such kindness with my thoughtless words on Sunday,” Meg said.

  “William will want to hear that he was right about Mr. Sebastian,” Aunt Grace declared.

  “Does he know about the detective’s report?” Meg asked.

  “He knows I arranged for an investigation,” Aunt Grace replied. “He thought it was an excellent idea. I haven’t felt the need to tell him what the report actually said, but you should acknowledge that you’ve learned Mr. Sebastian’s true nature, and that Mr. Bradford was right all the time.”

  Meg sighed.

  “And don’t merely parrot my words,” Aunt Grace said. “I do not find that amusing.”

  “Yesterday, I had the opportunity to learn the truth about Mr. Sebastian’s past,” Meg said. Don’t cry, she told herself. Don’t cry or mumble or lick your lips or stare at the floor. “I learned that he’d lied to me and to Aunt Grace about who he was, and where he’d come from.”

  “Be specific, Margaret,” Aunt Grace said. “William will undoubtedly be curious.”

  “Aunt Grace, please,” Meg said.

  “You do not seem to understand you are in no position to negotiate,” Aunt Grace declared. “These apologies are tests, Margaret, tests you must pass if you wish to return to any semblance of your previous life. If you fail these tests, then I will be forced to admit I can no longer handle you, and you will be sent away to a place where there are professionals trained to handle the emotionally disturbed. They remain on call, Margaret. You could be there by dinnertime tonight.”

 

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