Meg at Sixteen (19 page)

“
Margaret Louise Winslow!
”

Meg turned around and saw Aunt Grace marching toward them. There was no place to hide Nick, no way to protect either of them from Grace's wrath. She started to run, but Nick held her back, put his arm around her, and stood his ground.

“What is the meaning of this?” Aunt Grace shouted. “Setting fires on the property. Seeing this man. Disobeying my orders. Have you truly lost all your senses?”

Meg felt Nick's warmth enveloping her. The fire kept burning. They had no past, just future. “No, Aunt Grace,” she said. “I haven't lost any of my senses.”

“Go to your room at once!” Aunt Grace said. “Mr. Sebastian, if you don't leave immediately, I shall have to call the police.”

“Call them,” Nick said.

Aunt Grace stared down at the fire, and stamped on it to put the flames out. “Your dress!” she cried. “You're burning the dress I bought you.”

“I hate that dress,” Meg said. She had never been honest before with Aunt Grace. It was a dizzying sensation.

“But it was so pretty,” Aunt Grace said, and for just a moment, Meg could see that her aunt was a human being too. “I always wanted a dress like that, but my mother wouldn't let me have one. She said girls my size should never wear ruffles. So I bought one for you.”

“Oh Aunt Grace,” Meg said. “I'm sorry. Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“I don't know,” she said. “I didn't think it mattered.”

Meg wasn't sure, but she suspected it did. She left Nick's side, walked over to Grace, and embraced her.

The gesture returned Aunt Grace to her normal awful self. “You have a great deal of explaining to do,” she said, brushing Meg away. “Would you prefer to do it here or at the sanitarium?”

“Stop with the sanitarium already,” Nick said. “Stop frightening Daisy. You gain nothing from it, and you're only hurting her.”

“I know what's best for my niece,” Aunt Grace declared.

“No you don't,” he said. “You thought pink ruffles were what's best. You thought locking her up was what's best. You thought keeping us apart was what's best. You were wrong on all three counts.”

“I am Margaret's legal guardian,” Aunt Grace said. “As such, I can control her future for at least the next two years. I suggest you respect that power, Mr. Sebastian, and not provoke me into punishing Margaret even further.”

“If you do one more thing to Daisy, you'll have me to answer to,” Nick said.

“Stop it!” Meg said. “Both of you, just stop it.”

It was a tone neither of them had ever heard her use before, and it shocked them both.

“You're being foolish,” Meg declared. “Both of you.” She marveled at her courage.

“Margaret,” Aunt Grace said as Nick was saying, “Daisy.”

“Nobody's going to hurt anybody,” Meg said. “Not anymore. And we're not going to shout at each other either. We're going to sit right here in this gazebo and talk like three rational human beings. Do you think the two of you can manage that?”

Nick laughed. “It'll be a stretch,” he said. “But I'll try.”

“I don't care for this tone at all,” Aunt Grace said, but she entered the gazebo with them.

“I haven't been honest with you, Aunt Grace,” Meg said. “You forbade me to see Nicky, and I've been seeing him anyway.”

“You will have to be punished,” Aunt Grace replied. “I'm afraid when I tell Marcus what you've been doing, he'll insist on something quite severe.”

“It doesn't matter,” Meg said. “You can do whatever you like with me, and I'll still love Nicky.”

“I'm sure you will,” Aunt Grace said. “But will he still love you?”

Nick nodded. “Forever, I'm afraid.”

Aunt Grace turned to him. “Perhaps I've been focusing on the wrong person,” she said. “Perhaps the best form of punishment for Margaret is to punish you.”

“How?” Nick asked. “I haven't committed any crimes. And I doubt you're going to lock me up in your house.”

“I can give a copy of the detective's report to the Sinclair family,” Aunt Grace declared. “Robert Sinclair can read it, then tell all his cronies at Princeton the truth about your parentage. You'll have no friends there once they learn how you've been lying to them.”

“Aunt Grace,” Meg said. “Don't hurt Nicky. It isn't fair.”

“She won't be hurting me,” Nick said. “Feel free to tell the world what you've learned, Miss Winslow,” he declared. “Three months ago, it would have mattered to me. Now it doesn't. Daisy's the only one who counts, and she knows everything.”

“I'm sure if I had to, I could have you expelled from Princeton,” Aunt Grace said. “They must have some sort of moral code there, and I undoubtedly number enough Princeton alumni among my friends to see it enforced.”

“Miss Winslow, I'm going to marry Daisy,” Nick said. “We'll all be better off if that's a given in this conversation. Now, I can marry her today, or tomorrow, or two years from now, but one way or another, we're going to be married. I imagine I'll seem a little less awful to you if I've graduated from Princeton, but if that's truly unimportant to you, then get me expelled. The sooner I'm out of Princeton, the sooner I'll marry Daisy.”

“You won't be able to marry her if she's locked away in a sanitarium,” Aunt Grace threatened. “I have the power to do that.”

“But you don't want to,” Nick said. “It's taken me a while to figure that out. It's a hollow threat.”

“Perhaps it was before,” Grace said. “But you're forcing me to consider it seriously.”

Nick shook his head. “The only way you can do it is by telling Marcus everything,” he said. “And that would include the fact that Daisy and I were going to elope today. See my suitcase, all nicely packed. We had our bus picked out, our plans all made. You don't want Marcus to know that. You don't want him to think you incompetent. You have your pride too, Miss Winslow.”

Aunt Grace stared at Nick. “I am never going to like you,” she declared.

Nick smiled back at her. “Nor I you,” he said.

“But I love both of you,” Meg said. “Aunt Grace, I know, deep down, that you've only been doing what you think is best for me. It's not always easy to love people. I believe that both of you love me. That gives me a few rights.”

“Rights?” Aunt Grace said.

“Yes, rights,” Meg said. “Like the right to tell the truth. Nicky and I were going to elope today, Aunt Grace. I'd already met him. We came back here because he changed his mind. He didn't want us to get married behind your back. He wanted us to be aboveboard about it. I was the one pushing for the elopement. If I'd had my way, you never would have seen me again.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful to Mr. Sebastian, then?” Aunt Grace asked.

“Yes,” Meg replied. “You are.”

Aunt Grace laughed.

“I don't expect your gratitude,” Nick said. “Daisy doesn't either, not really. But we'd both appreciate a little understanding on your part. If Daisy feels you love her, then I'm willing to concede that you do. And if you do, then you want what's best for her.”

“Which hardly includes you,” Aunt Grace declared.

“You may be right about that,” Nick said. “I admit I'm being selfish. But so are you.”

“How?” Aunt Grace asked. “I have made innumerable sacrifices for that girl.”

“I have too,” Nick said. “She's worth them, don't you think?”

For one blessed moment, Aunt Grace was silent. She looked first at Meg, then at Nick. “How much?” she asked. “What's your price?”

“Let Daisy finish her education at Miss Arnold's,” Nick said. “No more talk about sanitariums, and expensive British reform schools. She has two years to go, let her spend them at the only home she knows.”

“And what do you give up?” Aunt Grace asked.

“We won't get married until I graduate Princeton,” Nick said. “That's three years from now. You can spend those three years throwing proper suitors Daisy's way. You can spend them making mischief for me. In the meantime, Daisy will graduate and make her debut. Maybe she'll fall out of love with me. You can certainly hope so.”

“There must be no talk of engagement,” Aunt Grace declared. “No rings, no tokens of affection. Margaret must be free to move around in her proper sphere, to meet the right sort of young man.”

“No engagement,” Nick said. “Not until her debut.”

“Not until a full year after her debut,” Aunt Grace said. “Any engagement will be contingent upon your graduation from Princeton.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said.

“And you are not to see each other again until Margaret turns eighteen,” Aunt Grace said.

“Aunt Grace!” Meg cried.

“I am being very generous to you, Margaret. Consider the alternatives to two years at Miss Arnold's.”

“She's right,” Nick said. “No matter what they do to you, we won't be able to see each other. At least at Miss Arnold's, you'll be less unhappy.”

Meg stared out at the ocean. To love a liar meant to be a liar. “All right,” she said. “But you have to let us write letters.”

“No letters,” Aunt Grace said. “No phone calls or secret messages either.”

Meg shook her head. “No letters, no deal,” she said. “I'll run away if I have to. And I'll tell the newspapers everything. How you kept me locked up, and threatened to put me away in a sanitarium, just because I loved an impoverished college student. You'll love that, Aunt Grace, the reporters hanging around, demanding to see where I was held prisoner. I can play pathetic heiress if I have to.”

“You may write letters,” Aunt Grace said. “Judging from the letters I've received from you, Margaret, their tedious nature should put a swift end to your relationship. And I doubt Mr. Sebastian's grunts of passion will maintain their appeal on paper.”

Meg smiled. Her triumphs over Aunt Grace had been few. That made this one even sweeter.

“I have one final condition, however,” Aunt Grace said. “Should the three years pass, and the two of you wed anyway, you are both to know that I will cut Margaret out of my will completely.”

“So what?” Nick asked.

“So she will be a pauper,” Aunt Grace said. “All she will have is the interest she receives from her trust fund, which currently comes to less than four thousand a year. My estate is worth millions. That is what Margaret will be giving up in exchange for you, Mr. Sebastian. That is what you'll be losing if you marry her instead of some nouveau riche creature whose family will be charmed by your smile and your lies. And don't expect my heart to soften as years go by. There will be no change in my will.”

“I'd never expect your heart to soften,” Nick said. “And frankly, I wouldn't want any of your money anyway. The older I get, the more distasteful I find handouts. But if it's important to Daisy, then she can dump me.”

Meg laughed.

“Then that's settled,” Nick said. “We don't see each other for two years, no engagement or marriage for three. Daisy gets to finish school at Miss Arnold's, and you can't threaten to send her someplace else. She makes her debut, dates as many fellows as you can round up for her. We don't speak to each other on the phone, but we do get to write letters. At the end of all of which, when we marry, she's out of your will. I assume she was never in Marcus's.”

“You assume correctly,” Aunt Grace replied. “If I find that you have violated any of the terms of this agreement, then Margaret will be sent to St. Bartholomew's.”

“No,” Nick said. “No more threats like that hanging over her head.”

“Then I'll see to it that you're expelled from Princeton,” Aunt Grace declared. “Is that acceptable?”

Nick nodded.

“Very well,” Aunt Grace said. “The agreement is effective immediately. Come, Margaret, back to the house. Mr. Sebastian, I suggest that you take your suitcase and leave Eastgate immediately. If I find out that you and Margaret have seen each other again before the summer ends, then I will be forced to send Margaret away, someplace you won't be able to find her. And that is not a hollow threat.”

“You have to let us say good-bye,” Meg said. “We aren't going to see each other again for two years, you can at least give us five minutes.”

“I don't have to do anything,” Aunt Grace said. “But I suppose five minutes is a small price to pay to keep you from sulking all summer. I shall be standing right outside the gazebo. When the five minutes are up, I'll let you know.” She got up, stared at Nick and Meg, then left them alone.

“Five minutes,” Meg said. “Two years.”

Nick shook his head. “Come here,” he said, and Meg did. They held each other for a long moment, then kissed for an even longer one. “This is the right thing,” he said. “It's worth losing this summer to keep you from harm.”

“I'll write to you every day,” Meg said.

“You'd better not,” Nick replied. “She'll change the rules on us if you push her too hard. A letter a week, and if she makes noises, we'll cut down.”

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

Nick nodded. “I love you too,” he said. “We are so lucky. I can't get over it, how lucky we are.”

“I don't feel lucky,” Meg said.

“Oh Daisy,” Nick said, and he kissed her again. “It's just three years. The same three years we'd agreed on ourselves. And this way, at least we have letters, and the promise of what's to come.”

“I won't be able to live without seeing you,” Meg said. “Not for two years.”

“We'll see each other,” Nick whispered. “Somehow, somewhere. She won't know.”

Meg smiled at him. “I love you, Nicky,” she said. “Now and forever. I'll love you until the day we die.”