Chapter 11: Chapter 11
When she returned to the cabin, she slipped in as quietly as possible, disrobed, and climbed back into bed, hoping she had not disturbed anyone. However, a few moments later, Kelly unwound herself from Baby Lizzy and slid in beside her, wrapping her arm beneath her shoulders. “Everythin’ okay, darlin’?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Meg replied as quietly as possible. “I just had another bad dream, that’s all.”
“I’m so sorry,” her friend replied, kissing her gently on the forehead. “It’ll get better, the farther away from England we go. You’ll see.”
Meg nodded. “I hope so. I just… I keep thinking about Charlie, too, and how lucky he is that, despite the ridicule he may be suffering now, how things are so much better now that I am out of his life forever. He didn’t deserve to be married to someone like me… someone who’s capable of the things I’ve done.”
“Meg!” Kelly scolded. “How can you say something like that? The things your uncle did to you were not your fault. You can’t possibly hold yourself responsible for his transgressions.”
“Maybe not, but the choices I made after that were all my own. For the longest time, I didn’t understand how Charlie could be so readily acceptable of someone else’s plan for his life. After meeting him today, I realized, that’s just who he is. He wanted to do what his father asked him to do while I rebelled against it. Then, I did everything I could to spite my mother, ultimately leaving Charlie and his feelings in my wake. I would like to say I never meant to hurt him, but I know that’s not true. Charlie wasn’t just a circumstantial casualty in this—my actions that damaged his reputation and potentially broke his heart were calculated on my part, and that’s something I am very much ashamed of.”
“Meg, I don’t think that’s completely true. I’ve been with you through all of this, remember? While I know you chose to skip out on Alise’s ball purposefully, knowing Charlie would be waiting for you, I honestly believe that was only because you knew it would have the deepest impact on your mother—which it did—not because of Charlie directly.”
Meg shook her head. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just… I’ve had a lot of bitterness toward him, and it’s been unwarranted. I wish there was some way I could make it up to him, could apologize. But any attempt at doing so would make it far worse. It’s best for me—for Mary Margaret Westmoreland—to stay out of his life forever. So, if we run into him again whilst aboard this ship, you must promise to help me avoid him, all right?”
Kelly considered the statement before replying. Finally, she said, “Meg, are you sure you shouldn’t take advantage of this opportunity to talk to him, to clear the air? You’re right—he does seem like an honorable chap. Perhaps if you approached him and explained everything—and I mean everything—he could at least have some peace about the situation, knowing he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You can’t be serious!” Meg exclaimed, causing Baby Lizzy to stir in the bed across from them. “Sorry,” she muttered in a sharp whisper. “I didn’t mean to… but no. I couldn’t possibly…. He’d never understand anyway.”
After glancing over at her daughter to make sure she was still asleep, Kelly returned her attention to her friend. “Perhaps you aren’t giving the gentleman enough credit, Meg. I’m sure that, if you told him what your uncle did, he’d understand. Maybe you don’t have to tell him about Ezra, but letting him know you’re sorry would be a step in the right direction toward mending both of your wounded hearts.”
Meg shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not,” she replied. “Under no circumstances will I ever attempt to explain my poor decision making to Charles Ashton, nor will I attempt to explain it away through playing the victim. Please don’t attempt to necessitate such a meeting either, Kelly. I just want to leave him be, let him live his life, and pray that someday I’ll find someone who’s willing to accept me, despite my flaws.”
Again, Kelly considered her statement before finally resting her head on Meg’s shoulder and saying, “Fine, I won’t press the issue, but I think you’d feel much better if you’d get it off of your chest. And someday you will find a man who loves you just as much as you deserve to be loved, my darlin’. I wish you could see yourself as I see you. You are an amazing person, Meggy, and I hate that you’ve lost yourself through all of this. Someday you’ll see yourself for who you really are again.”
“Thank you, love,” Meg said, kissing her dearest on the top of her head before Kelly crossed back over to cradle her babe. Meg turned to face the whitewashed wall, Kelly’s words replaying in her mind. If only what she said were true. But Meg knew in her heart she would never be worthy of the kind of love Kelly and Daniel had, the kind that Charlie had promised her at one point in their engagement. At the time, she had laughed it off, sure he was only making promises he never intended to keep. Now, she realized she had given up so much more than she had ever realized all in the name of revenge.
The saddest part about the entire situation was that, while she was certain her mother was at home mourning her loss, it was the forfeiture of her chances at gaining position that would have her distraught, not the absence of her daughter. She had lost any semblance of care for her only living child long ago.
With a few hours until sunrise, Meg attempted to fall back to sleep, praying that this time the nightmares would stay away and she could get some much needed rest at last.
***
Jonathan Lane was a wiz at gaining information, in any situation, in any location, and being aboard the Titanic had not limited his resourcefulness. Though they had just encountered little Ruth and her Aunty Meg the day before, he had already ascertained a room number, the names of Ruth’s parents—Daniel and Kelly O’Connell—and the fact that the other woman sharing their room was registered on the ship’s roster as Meg Sister, which he thought was rather odd and perhaps a clerical mistake. Early on the morning of April 12, he ran into a steward for Steerage passengers who mentioned the peculiar sight of a very attractive, fair-haired passenger leaving Third Class accommodations dressed in a pink robe in the middle of the night, spending several minutes peering into the Atlantic before returning to her cabin. He said the only thing truly unusual about it was the fact that the robe did not match the class. It seemed rather expensive, he noted.
Jonathan wasn’t sure if this was important information or not, but he filed it away for later use. Even if Third Class passenger Meg Sister, or Aunty Meg as it were, was only meant as a bit of fun, there was always the possibility she may attempt to take advantage of the current emotional state of the charming millionaire, and it was up to Jonathan to make sure that the situation improved, that nothing happened to worsen Charlie’s disposition.
Charlie had awoken with a bit of a headache and some churning in his stomach he could not attribute to the movement of the boat. Rather, it was the liquor that had caused these unwelcome symptoms. Despite feeling a bit under the weather, the new day shed some fresh light on his situation. Standing on his deck, sipping black coffee, gazing out at the sunrise, he was determined to no longer allow Mary Margaret Westmoreland control of his destiny. He had done so for far too long. Likewise, he resolved not to care what other members of his social class may have to say about his personal situation. It was none of their business. If they wanted to make speculations as to what went wrong between himself and his betrothed, they were entitled to think whatever they wanted. Their opinions of him were, frankly, of little concern. If Miss Westmoreland had obtained a reputation as a two-bit hussy, well, there was not much he could do to repair that either. He just hoped, for her own sake, whatever had gone awry was on the up and up, and she could live with the decision she had made.
With little coaxing from Jonathan, he had dressed and joined several of his acquaintances in the dining hall for breakfast. While it was evident some whispering was going on behind gloved hands, he paid little attention. Those who chose to talk about him would do so whether there was new information or not. He and Jonathan sat with Benjamin Guggenheim and his valet, Victor Giglio. Mr. Guggenheim had provided recent fodder for the rumor mills himself, showing up on the steamship with his mistress rather than his wife, so honestly, at times it was hard to tell if the prying eyes were directed at him or the senior gentlemen.
Guggenheim’s relationship with his valet was very similar to Charlie’s with Jonathan. Rather than just a working relationship, Benjamin and Victor were actually very good friends, as was evident by the conversation that passed between them. Guggenheim discussed several pieces of art he had recently acquired as well as some business information, but his main topic of dialogue was his philanthropic efforts with the poor of New York, and Charlie began to realize that Mr. Guggenheim was certainly more than an astute businessman; he was also a champion for the underprivileged, something he had not previously realized.
“If we can’t help other people along on this journey, then I say, what is the purpose, you know, Ashton? That’s my sentiment anyway,” Guggenheim waxed after breakfast was over. “They’re going to talk about everything we do. We may as well stun them and do something extraordinarily benevolent,” he continued. “I’ve got plans in the works, you see. Big plans to start a charity organization that will change the way every child in New York City is educated.”
“That sounds very interesting,” Charlie admitted. “What do you propose?”
“Well, I haven’t quite got it all sorted out yet, but it will revolutionize the way the poor are educated. You just wait and see,” Guggenheim continued, already nursing a brandy at just shy of nine o’clock in the morning.
Charlie was sticking with coffee, black, hoping the ringing in his ears would dissipate. “Well, keep me abreast of any new developments. I’d like to be involved,” he offered.
“Will do, Charlie my boy,” Guggenheim laughed. “Will do. I’m sure you could offer some insight. Now, if you don’t mind the advice of an experienced gentlemen of these circles, let me give you my two cents about the whispering scandalizers amongst us: do whatever you can to confuse them. It’s much more fun to jump in with both feet just to see what you can stir up than it is to let their speculation and dirty looks ruin your disposition. If they think this girl is hidden on the boat somewhere, show up with an unidentified woman who looks similar. If they think she ran off with the footmen, show up with a nursemaid. You can’t let them dictate to you what you should or should not do. Likewise, if this Westmoreland girl really did decide some common John was better for her than you, I say good riddance. There are plenty of other young socialites on the scene, old chap. You may as well choose another to tie yourself to for the rest of your life, and then you’re free to do as you please.”
Charlie listened intently, eyes-wide, particularly to the last part. “Well, Mr. Guggenheim…”
“Ben, please…”
“Ben, I suppose I hadn’t considered all of that. I appreciate your sentiment, although I have to say I had always imagined my marriage would be similar to that of my parents, solid and unwavering. I never imagined…”
“No one ever does, my boy. But very rarely does it ever turn out the way we think it will. And I’ll tell you, I love my wife and my daughters in a way I cannot describe. But it’s Leontine who keeps me sane.”
With that, the gentlemen parted ways, wishing each other a fine day. As Jonathan and Charlie made their way out onto the adjoining deck, Jonathan said, “Well, that’s the same advice from two very different, yet unusually similar, individuals. What do you say? Shall we make our way back to C Deck?”
“Lead the way,” Charlie insisted, gesturing with his palm face up. Perhaps he should have started listening to the council of his peers a long time ago.