Meg at Sixteen (8 page)

“I never claimed he had,” Nick said. “I like Robert, he likes me, he knew I was at loose ends for the summer, so he invited me to stay with his family. His parents knew about the invitation. It was originally Mrs. Sinclair's idea. We'd met when the Sinclairs came to visit Robert at school. It didn't seem to bother her then that Robert had never met any of my family. Given that I don't have any family, it would have been hard for him to meet them.”

“Are you through?” Aunt Grace asked.

“The question is, are you?” Nick replied.

“Do you want me to throw him out for you?” Clark asked.

Aunt Grace gave Clark the kind of look that shriveled Meg for weeks. Clark didn't seem to hold up to it much better.

“All I know about you is what you told me this morning,” Aunt Grace declared. “You started off with lies, and undoubtedly, you continued and finished with lies as well.”

“I didn't lie about the Sinclairs,” Nick said. “I said that they had invited me to spend the summer there, which was true. I never said I was still staying with them. That would have been untrue.”

“You led me to believe you were still staying with them,” Aunt Grace said.

“You chose to believe it,” Nick said. “Just as you choose to believe I mean to hurt your niece in some way. I'm not responsible for your beliefs, Miss Winslow, any more than you're responsible for mine.”

“I am responsible for my niece, though,” Grace said. “And that responsibility includes protecting her from the likes of you.”

“But you don't know me,” Nick said. “You know nothing about me except what I've told you, and possibly what Mrs. Sinclair said.”

“Exactly,” Aunt Grace declared. “I know nothing about you, and frankly, I'd be much happier if I could keep it that way. It wouldn't surprise me to learn you'd be happier as well. Shall we strike a bargain, then? You leave Eastgate, forget all about Margaret, and in return, I'll forget this entire incident, and make no effort to investigate you and your undoubtedly unsavory past.”

“No deal,” Nick said. “No bargain. I couldn't forget Daisy even if I wanted to.”

“Very well,” Aunt Grace said. “Your past will be an open book to me before I'll allow you to see my niece again.”

“That's not fair, Aunt Grace!” Meg said, and she realized that for once Aunt Grace couldn't accuse her of mumbling. “You can't dictate people's lives like that.”

“I have no interest in dictating Mr. Sebastian's life,” Grace replied. “And I have every right to control yours, Margaret. You are my ward, and you will remain my ward for the next five years. It was your choice that you moved here. Before then, Marcus was your guardian, and undoubtedly you could have had much more freedom, many fewer restrictions. I don't doubt that Marcus would allow you to see any sort of trash that washes ashore. But you made it obvious to all of us that you were dissatisfied with Marcus, and you moved in with me. Having done that, you must abide by the rules I establish.”

“Fine,” Meg said. “I'll move in with Uncle Marcus instead. He won't mind. I've changed since then. I'll fit in this time, and you won't ever have to bother about me again.”

“It's too late for that,” Grace said. “Marcus and I do not exist merely for your convenience, Margaret. Your father was indulged and spoiled, and you have had a life of indulgence as well, and I can see now it has spoiled you too. You give no thought to how you have disrupted the lives of others. All you care about are your own petty, selfish needs.”

“Stop it,” Nick said. “I won't have you talking that way to her.”

“You have no say in the matter,” Grace replied. “Margaret, go to your room, and stay there thinking about your selfish, ungrateful attitude. I suggest you leave, Mr. Sebastian, before I am forced to call the police once again. Clark, thank you very much for protecting my niece. I'm not sure she deserves it, but I am in your debt.”

Nobody moved.

“I thought I had made myself clear,” Grace said. “Margaret, go upstairs immediately.”

“I'll run away,” she said.

“Daisy, no,” Nick said.

“I will,” Meg said. “I'll run away and disappear and then you won't ever have to deal with me and my ingratitude again. Isn't that what you want, Aunt Grace? For me to disappear?”

“I want you to behave like a young lady of your social standing,” Aunt Grace replied. “Which does not involve running away, as you so dramatically put it.”

“Can't you see you're hurting her?” Nick asked. “Doesn't it bother you? I don't care what you say or do to me, but Daisy deserves so much better. How can you not love her?”

“Love is not at issue here,” Aunt Grace said. “Ingratitude is, and irresponsibility. Having heard that sad story of yours this morning, I should think that you would know the gratitude Margaret should feel for me. I took her in when no one else would have her.”

“You're the one who should be grateful,” Nick said. “Daisy owes you nothing.”

“She owes me the roof over her head,” Grace replied. “She owes me her schooling, her clothes, her tennis and riding lessons. She owes me respect.”

Nick shook his head. “I'd rather have my past than hers,” he said. “Daisy, I swear to you, I'll get you away from this as soon as I can. Whatever I have to give up for it, I will.”

“I know,” Meg said.

“Clark, you offered to throw this man out bodily,” Aunt Grace said. “I find I must take you up on that offer.”

“All right, Miss Winslow,” Clark said, but Nick laughed.

“I'll go on my own,” he said. “I wouldn't want Clark to sully his hands. Daisy, do what she tells you, but don't let it bother you. She doesn't matter, not now, not in our future.”

“Mr. Sebastian!” Aunt Grace shouted.

Nick smiled. “I'll be in touch,” he said. “Good day, everyone.” He nodded his farewells politely, and left the house as though he'd been a welcomed guest.

“You are never to see that man again, Margaret,” Aunt Grace declared.

Meg laughed. She sounded like Nick.

“Go to your room at once, Margaret,” Aunt Grace said. “And do not expect to be allowed out anytime today.”

“Fine,” Meg said. She expected to burst into tears, or at least to feel that awful quivering terror that she always felt when Aunt Grace turned her wrath upon her, but those feelings were gone. She had Nick now, and whether he was by her side or not, he enveloped her with his love. He protected her.

C
HAPTER
S
IX

Meg Sebastian

Daisy Sebastian

Margaret Sebastian

Margaret Winslow Sebastian

Margaret Louise Winslow Sebastian

Meg Keefer

Even before Meg heard the footsteps approaching her room, she tore up the list. Not only would Aunt Grace kill her for pairing her name next to Nick's in so many splendid combinations, but Nick, she knew, would be devastated if he saw her name next to Keefer. She wondered if he would love her any the less when he found out her middle name was Louise. But if she could live with George, he could live with Louise. It was Keefer that was the trouble spot.

Meg wished she had matches in her room to burn the names with, but none were allowed her, so she tore the paper into a hundred tiny pieces and scattered them in her wastepaper basket. The servants would never bother to piece the shreds together. She didn't doubt they were under instructions to go through her garbage, but not even Aunt Grace would expect them to paste together such tiny pieces. Even so, she wished she had matches.

It had been two days since she'd seen Nick, two days, four hours, and twelve minutes. She was sure he was counting the days and hours as well, but what else had he done during that time? Was he still at the inn, or had he moved to a boardinghouse? Maybe he'd made up with the Sinclairs, given them flowers and convincing speeches, as he'd given Aunt Grace. Meg knew Caroline Sinclair well enough to know she'd provide little resistance to an attack of charm.

Or had Nick left Eastgate altogether, gone back to Princeton to wait out the summer, or moved on to some other summer resort or returned to wherever he was from, gone back to being George Keefer, given up on Meg, on all his dreams? The uncertainty hurt.

She heard the footsteps then, checked the wastepaper basket to make sure no offending names were visible, and waited for the sound of the key in the lock that now signified social contact for her. With the arrival of the locksmith two days earlier, Meg had lost not only her freedom, but the courtesy of having her door knocked on before entry. All the year-rounders must know that she was being kept locked in her bedroom. It had to be the talk of Eastgate. Were they amused or appalled or did they just regard it as another example of the eccentricities of the rich? Meg wasn't even sure how she felt about it.

Aunt Grace opened the door and stared in at Meg, presumably to confirm that she hadn't escaped. “Clark is here to see you,” she declared, and sure enough, she half pushed Clark into Meg's bedroom. “The door will be kept open for the duration of his visit.”

“Yes, Aunt Grace,” Meg said. It felt funny to speak, even those few words.

“Very well,” Aunt Grace said, although Meg knew she didn't think any of this was very well at all. Clark certainly didn't. He appeared terrified. Meg tried not to smile at either of them.

“She has you locked in?” Clark said, as soon as they heard Grace's lumbering footsteps going down the hallway.

Meg nodded. “It's mostly symbolic,” she said. “There are no bars on the windows. If I need to escape, I can.”

Clark looked out the windows. “You're on the second floor,” he pointed out. “What would you do, jump?”

“I haven't worked out the details,” Meg replied. “I'm not going to be locked in here forever, Clark. Aunt Grace will come to her senses sooner or later. Why are you here? Did she send for you?”

Clark shook his head. “This was my idea,” he said. “Probably a dumb one, too. Mostly I wanted to check up on you. I've been worried. Everyone's been asking where you are. You caused quite a stir at your party, vanishing like that, and then the scene when Nick brought you back, and nobody's seen you since, so everyone's curious.”

It hadn't occurred to Meg to think about societal response to her situation. The year-rounders had crossed her mind, but not all the people she'd grown up with. She knew that meant she'd crossed a line, one so natural that she hadn't even been aware of it.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Clark asked.

“I'm fine,” Meg said. “I'm getting my three meals a day. I just have to eat them in here.”

“You must be bored,” Clark said.

“I think about Nicky,” Meg replied.

Clark rolled his eyes. “I don't know what's worse,” he said. “The way he calls you Daisy or the way you call him Nicky.”

Meg was afraid if she laughed Aunt Grace would hear her, so she managed to keep it to a soft giggle. Clark wasn't as concerned, so he laughed outright.

“This is a hell of a situation you've gotten yourself into,” Clark said. “Do you have any idea when Grace is going to spring you?”

Meg looked out the window to the ocean. She liked the way it kept its steady rhythm of waves, regardless of what was happening to her. “She said at first I'd have to stay in my room until I was willing to apologize. Which I'm not, and never will be. So I figure that means forever, or until I turn twenty-one.”

“That's crazy,” Clark said. “She'll have to let you go to school.”

“She'll let me out before then,” Meg declared. “If people are talking, she isn't going to keep me here all summer. She'll probably free me tomorrow. Your coming here is a good sign.”

“That's me all right,” Clark said. “Good-Sign Bradford.”

“Clark, I'm sorry,” Meg said. “I really would like to love you.”

Clark almost smiled.

“So,” Meg said. “Has anything interesting happened lately? How're Isabelle and her bag boy?”

“They're handling things a lot better than you are,” Clark replied. “At least she isn't being held prisoner in her home.”

“This isn't my home,” Meg said. “This is where I stay summers. I don't have a home, not yet. I haven't since my parents died, and I won't until Nicky and I are together.”

“All right,” Clark said. “It was a natural mistake on my part.”

“I'm sorry,” Meg said. “When you're locked in a room for a couple of days, it gives you a chance to think.” She giggled. “That's about all it gives you the chance to do. Think and look out windows and write thank-you notes. So what I've been thinking about is who I am, and what my life's been and what it's going to be.”

“And your conclusions?” Clark asked.

“That my life is with Nicky,” Meg said. “All right, Nick. Does that make you feel better?”

“Not in the slightest,” Clark said.

“Have you seen him?” Meg asked.

Clark shook his head. “But I'm willing to if you want,” he said so softly Meg almost accused him of mumbling.

“You are?” she asked. “For me? Or just to tell him off?”

Clark pulled his chair closer to Meg's, and bent over to whisper. “I don't like any of this,” he said.

“You think I do?” Meg replied.

“And I don't like this new attitude of yours either,” Clark said. “If you keep it up, I'll start sympathizing with Grace.”

“Prison makes a woman tough,” Meg said. “You know, in a funny way, it really does. You should read my thank-you notes. Aunt Grace made me rewrite half of them.”

“Are you through?” Clark asked. Meg nodded. “You're not the only one who's been thinking,” he said. “I've been thinking too, about you and about Sebastian.”