Quiet Meg

The Honorable Marksley

Sherry Lynn
Ferguson

This title was previously published by Avalon Books; this version
has been reproduced from the Avalon book archive files.

The proprietors of grand estates usually adopted a formality and consequence comparable to their surroundings.
Never before had Charles Cabot been asked to share refreshments out on the lawn.

The invitation from Sir Eustace Lawrence K.C. caused a
comical consternation amongst the household staff. A
hastily assembled table, offering drinks and cold savories,
soon claimed the long shadow of a beech trunk, for the avenue’s ancient trees had not yet leafed out to dense shade.
But the amiable Lawrences, displaying a fondness for the
open, bravely settled themselves in the bright March sun.
There they persisted, though a fickle breeze threatened to
topple their charming party.

By backing his chair to the same massive tree that sheltered the luncheon, Chas gave himself what little cover
was to be had as well as a view of the long stretch of turf
abutting the river. His thoughts had focused entirely on the prospect before him-on Selbourne, his newest project, for
which he knew he scarcely had time. If Bertram Lawrence
had not chanced upon him in town and pressed him to
render an opinion, Chas would have considered himself
more than reasonably occupied. Still, improving the estate’s
grounds had its challenges. There was a promisingly picturesque pool of water in back, and the low hill directly across
from him had possibilities … But young Lucy Lawrence’s
anxious complaint put an end to his musings.

“Why must Meg rush home now? She’s been happy with
Bitty! Just weeks ago she wrote that she would stay through
the summer!”

“She had no choice.” Louisa Ferrell, Lucy’s older sister,
reached to rescue a fluttering letter from the girl’s hand.
“Aunt Bitty’s new home in Cheltenham is half the size of
Tenby’s. With Mrs. D-sharing, it’s unthinkable that Meg
should move with them”

“But we shall be departing for town by mid April! Surely
she can’t intend to stay here alone?”

“And why should she stay here at all, young lady?” Sir
Eustace asked abruptly. Confined to his Bath chair, the burly
gentleman still managed to fidget, as though he denied
his limitations. Certainly nothing else about the forceful
Lawrence patriarch was limited in any way. The glare he
sent his youngest was a reprimand in itself. “Margaret is
your sister. She is welcome to join us in town ””