Southampton
April 7, 1912
Meg
The dress was light pink, flowing, in a soft chenille. The bodice was fitted and adorned with rhinestones that shimmered in the light. Her hair was pulled up off of her neck in a tight roll with ringlets framing her face. The shoes were silver with a faux-diamond-decorated clasp. As she gazed at herself in the mirror one last time, Meg took a deep breath, hoping God would give her strength to go through with this—if there was a God who heard the cries of young ladies trapped in worlds to which they were certain they didn’t belong.
“You look lovely,” Charlotte said, smoothing her gown in the back.
“Thank you,” Meg replied. Kelly was out for a few days, so Charlotte had been called upon to help her dress for Alise’s ball. Her mother and uncle were no longer attending such events, mostly because her uncle was seldom invited after the scene he’d caused so many years ago at Christina Edgebrook’s ball, though Meg was fairly certain the real reason her mother did not permit her uncle to go to this particular ball was because she was certain he would say something awful to Charlie, who was also invited, and her mother wanted to appear to still be high society.
The money Charlie had been sending had helped with that, but it was getting more and more expensive to keep up the façade, and Meg couldn’t come up with enough excuses for him to send payment. She had spent a bit of the money her father had saved for her, but she had to be careful because her mother might ask where she had gotten a certain item. Most of her money had gone to gifts for Kelly’s family, including the new baby, Lizzie, who was born in October.
And of course she had spent a bit of money on Ezra. That day when he had driven her to the bank had been the first time she allowed herself to truly embrace the feelings she had for him. Ever since, she had spent many evenings in the solace of his arms, seeking refuge from a world in which she knew she did not belong.
Now, he was waiting in the garage for her and would be taking her off to start a new life.
Charles Ashton had also been invited to Alise’s ball. She knew that they had mutual friends in Alise and her older sister Beatrice, but she had only just discovered a few days ago that Charlie would be attending. That’s when she realized now was the time to take her future into her own hands.
Meg descended the stairs, clutching her pocket book, expecting to see her mother in the parlor, but when she turned the corner, the room was empty. She didn’t hear or see her anywhere, which seemed rather odd; she was certain she’d want to see her off.
Walking into the kitchen, she saw Tessa straightening some of the items on the counter. “Where’s mother?” Meg asked.
“Oh, she’s gone to bed, miss,” Tessa explained. “You look absolutely breathtaking, Miss Mary Margaret.”
“Thank you,” Meg said absently. “To bed?”
“Yes, she said her head was hurting.”
“And Uncle Bertram?”
“Haven’t the foggiest, though, if I were to guess, I’d say likely the tavern. It’s only nine.”
“Right,” Meg muttered. “All right then. I guess I’m off.”
“Shall I have Mr. Bitterly pull the motor coach around?”
“No, Ezra is driving me. Mr. Bitterly is also feeling poorly. I’ll just go out the back.”
“In those shoes?”
Meg smiled at her but didn’t bother to answer. “Good night, Tessa.” She looked at the older woman fondly for just a moment and then slipped out the back door.
He was waiting for her in the carriage house, and as soon as she saw him, a warm smile spread across her face. Standing in the lamplight, his hair gleaming golden, he looked like an angel, the angel that had come to save her.
“Oh, Ezra! Can you believe this is really happening?” she asked, as she flung herself into his arms.
“Meg, you look like a dream,” he said, finding her mouth with his. He only pulled away long enough to tell her just how much he loved her.
“I love you, too, Ezra,” she said, returning his kisses, her hands locked around his neck. After a moment, she pulled away, realizing they needed to get going so as not to arouse any suspicions. “Is my bag in the car?”
“Yes,” Ezra replied, but he clearly had other things on his mind and pulled her back in, his kisses becoming more passionate and more eager, his hands beginning to roam her body.
“Ezra,” Meg whispered as his mouth explored the curve between her neck and shoulder. “We need to be going.”
With his arms still tightly wound around her, he released her neck, breathing her in. “Meg, I want you. Now. Let me show you how much I love you.”
Her eyes widened, not sure how to respond. She planned to book a room under an assumed name for the next few days and then set sail on the next steam liner heading to America, which was leaving port on April 10, also under a different name. Kelly and her family would meet them at the hotel the next day. Though the plan was only a couple of days old, they had discussed it at length. Ezra would drive her to a hotel near the docks and then ditch the car. She couldn’t imagine why he would want to change the plan now. Finally, she smiled and said, “Ezra, we’ll be in a hotel together posing as husband and wife in just a bit. If you are serious, then, we can talk about it more once we are safely away.”
“No, Meg,” he said his hands caressing her hips. “I want to make you mine before we go. I need to know that you really love me, that you honestly want to be with me.”
“You know I love you, Ezra. I have for years,” she reminded him. As proof, she pulled him to her and kissed him, which only served to excite him even more, and several more minutes passed as they stood beneath the lamplight entangled in each other’s arms.
“Come on, Meg. Come with me,” Ezra insisted. He took her hand and began walking toward the ladder that led to the hayloft.
Meg glanced behind her. The lights were out on this side of the house except for the one in the attic, which must be Tessa. Surely no one could see them or would pay them any mind. His father’s quarters were on the other side of the carriage house, in the back, and he was likely asleep.
Though she had reservations, she loved Ezra, and she was certain that he loved her as well. He had agreed to go to America, to leave his ailing father, and to run away with her. He’d kept all of her secrets—about the money and not wanting to marry Charlie--but also about her uncle. She’d cried in his arms after attacks, while he swore to get vengeance, but she made him promise not to. She couldn’t bear to see another friend hurt because of her.
Climbing the ladder in those shoes was difficult, but he carefully helped her up, and when she reached the top, she could see that he had given this some thought. A blanket was spread atop the thinly strewn hay, surrounded by higher bales, forming a kind of cocoon. He had even sprinkled flower petals everywhere, and Meg could smell the heavenly scent of oleander and lilac.
“Ezra…” she barely whispered. Tears filled her eyes. Such thought and preparation had gone into this night; clearly the physical declaration of their love to each other meant a lot to him.
“Meg, you are everything to me,” he said, standing before her, his hands encircling her waist. “I want to show you how much I love you, and I want this to stand as a promise that we will be together always.”
He began to kiss her again, and Meg surrendered to his embrace. She soon found herself tangled in his arms on the moonlit blanket, their scent mingling with the perfume of the flowers.