Meg at Sixteen (16 page)

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.”

“I'm sorry, Aunt Grace,” Meg said. “What do you want me to say to Mr. Bradford? I'll say it, I swear I will.”

“I think perhaps we should go there right now,” Aunt Grace replied. “William Bradford is not the only one who needs convincing right now of your sincerity.” She rang for the chauffeur, and in moments, she and Meg were being driven the short distance to the Bradford cottage.

The Bradford butler let them in, and Meg found herself standing in front of Mr. and Mrs. Bradford, and Clark, in their parlor.

“Thank you very much for seeing me,” Meg began. “I hope I haven't disrupted your plans in any way.” It scared her to look at Mr. Bradford, so she glanced at Mrs. Bradford instead, and noticed, not for the first time, how watery her eyes were. She wanted to look at Clark, but didn't dare, so she turned to face his father instead.

“We're very interested to hear what you have to say, Margaret,” Mr. Bradford declared.

“Thank you,” Meg said. “I appreciate that. I know I've been a worry to you, to all the people who are kind enough to care about me. I know I don't always show how grateful I am to you, for the way you've welcomed me into your home on so many occasions. Your friendship means so much to me. My father … well, I know how much he cherished that friendship, and how grateful he'd be to you for all you've done for me.”

“Reggie was a good man,” Mr. Bradford said. “A bit wild, perhaps, and I never did care for that wife of his, but a good man. Breeding does show.”

Meg nodded. “That's one of the things I've been learning,” she said. “About the importance of breeding, of where you come from and how it makes you what you are. I guess I've always taken it for granted. I guess that's why I couldn't see through Nick Sebastian as easily as you could. I was dazzled by him, and I felt if the Sinclairs thought he was good enough to be their houseguest, then he must be all right. Only I was wrong.”

“You're young,” Mrs. Bradford said. “Young girls frequently make mistakes of the heart.”

“Quiet, Evelyn,” Mr. Bradford said. “Go on, Margaret. How exactly were you wrong?”

Meg could feel them all staring at her. She glanced at Clark, who seemed as interested as the rest of them in her confession. “Nick Sebastian is illegitimate,” she said. “That isn't even his name. It's George Keefer. His mother was a tramp, excuse me, Mrs. Bradford, but I don't know how else to describe her. He grew up in squalor, and he lies, he lies about everything. I know now he was only interested in me for my money.”

“You have no money,” Mr. Bradford pointed out.

“For the money he assumed I must have,” Meg said. “Everything you said about him was true, Mr. Bradford. He doesn't belong in Eastgate, with people like us. The Sinclairs know that now, and so do I.”

Mr. Bradford nodded. “I only wish you had realized that on Sunday,” he said.

“I was a fool,” Meg said. “I have no excuse. But I am very sorry.”

“William, please,” Mrs. Bradford said. “I know you can find it in your heart to forgive Margaret.”

“Very well,” Mr. Bradford said. “Margaret, I appreciate your apology. You are young, and will outgrow your foolish behavior, I'm sure. There's a recklessness to today's youth that is of great concern to me. My nephew Brad is worrying his mother no end with his choice of companions. Naturally, I want only the best for Clark, and I worry I haven't been selective enough with him. But you are a Winslow, Margaret, no matter who your mother was, and I can see that Grace is doing a fine job raising you. You must be very grateful to her.”

“I am,” Meg said. “To her and to my uncle Marcus, and all the other people who've shown me so much kindness since my parents died.”

“Tragedy, that,” Mr. Bradford said. “Well, Grace, why don't you join Evelyn and me for a cup of coffee, and we'll let the young people here have a moment or two to themselves.”

“Thank you, William,” Aunt Grace said. “I would enjoy that.”

Meg couldn't believe she'd pulled it off. She tried to keep from smiling as the adults left the room.

“He's really illegitimate?” Clark asked as soon as they were alone.

“It's not his fault,” Meg snapped.

“Then that was all an act,” Clark said. “You didn't mean a word you said just now to my father.”

“I had to,” Meg said. “You don't know the threats Aunt Grace makes.”

“She does what she thinks is best for you,” Clark said.

“I know what's best for me,” Meg said. “Clark, you have to do me a favor.”

“What now?” he asked.

“You have to spend Thursday with me,” Meg declared. “If your father says it's all right, that is. Ask Aunt Grace if she'll let me see you on Thursday. I'm sure she'll say yes. Then pick me up as early as you can, and we'll tell her we're going to spend the whole day together.”