Charlie nodded. He had heard that before, but considering Mary Margaret was engaged to be his wife, and she was Bertram’s family, he never thought she was at any risk. The uncle had lived with Mary Margaret’s parents even before she was born. The older brother of Henry by a considerable margin, he had wasted away his portion of the family inheritance before Henry even graduated from university, and by the time the younger brother began his textile company, Bertram was eagerly awaiting any opportunity to profit from his brother’s hard work. Charlie had met him a few times when he had come to New York on business, and though he had been frightening as a young child, he seemed like a harmless old man now. Molly seemed to think otherwise. “Do you think something shady was going on?”
“I’m not sure,” Molly replied, finishing her drink. “I know one of the girls was saying Bertram wouldn’t take no for an answer once several years back at a coming out party… ball, what have you… and if her now-husband hadn’t happened by at just the right moment, she was fairly certain he’d have his way with her one way or another.”
As Charlie sat contemplating this new information, wondering precisely what had become of Mary Margaret after all, Jonathan let himself in. At first, he looked confused, but it took only a moment for Molly to jump up, grab him by the hand and introduce herself, as if they were equals. “Molly just stopped by to speak to me about Miss Westmoreland,” Charlie explained as Jonathan refilled his glass without being asked.
“I see,” he replied, sitting the decanter back down. “So word has reached our vessel at sea, then?”
“Have a seat, pumpkin,” Molly said, gesturing at the spot next to her on the couch. “Southampton society ain’t much different than New York. People got somethin’ to talk about, they’re gonna talk.”
“And what are they saying?” he inquired, taking the seat he was offered and glancing from one face to the other.
“For the most part, nothing we haven’t heard,” Charlie replied. “Except for the fact that I didn’t realize her lady-in-waiting and her family had also gone with her.”
Jonathan nodded, as if this was not new information to him after all. “And I’m sure you know by now, then, that people are assuming they are all here with you?”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Yes,” he confirmed. “And you’ve known this since….”
“Well, there was no point in mentioning it. After all, it’s obviously not true,” he explained.
“But if I had known, it might have saved a little embarrassment at dinner,” Charlie countered.
“Would you have done anything differently?” Jonathan shot back.
Again, Charlie considered the question. “No, I suppose not.”
“Best to just let them think whatever they want, then,” Molly offered. “Right now, they’re assumin’ she’s aboard, all them servants are, too, and the rumor that she was sleepin’ with the house boy is just fiddle faddle.”
“I’m sorry—what?” Charlie asked, almost dropping his glass. “I know it had been mentioned that there was speculation they may have eloped, but no one ever said….”
“Oh, bless your poor innocent heart,” Molly said. “Sorry darlin’. I just figured you knew one meant the other.”
Charlie was up now and pacing the small area in front of the chair. “Is that true? Do you think that’s true? This whole time, I’ve been refusing to dance with other women at balls, hardly opened a door… I once told a woman I couldn’t help her out of a motor coach because I was engaged…. Surely she hasn’t been…. The entire time….”
“Charlie, boy, settle down, now,” Molly insisted, standing and taking him gently by the arms and pushing him back into the chair. “Nobody knows, and ain’t nobody gonna know, till Miss Sunshine shows up and tells her story. Till then, why don’t you go have some fun? Find some pretty girls and ask them to dance. Hell, I hear there’s a motor coach downstairs. Take it for a spin. You’ve got to relax a little, son. Right now, you’re wound up tighter than an eight-day clock.”
“Mrs. Brown, I think perhaps Charlie needs to get some rest,” Jonathan began taking a step toward the door.
“He needs to go to bed all right, but I ain’t sure it’s for sleep,” she muttered. “You stop blamin’ yourself for this mess, Charlie. You have no idea what was goin’ on across the ocean, halfway around the world, you hear me?”
Charlie was sitting in the chair, his elbows on his knees, his head resting on his interlaced fingers, only partially listening to what Mrs. Brown had to say. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the ever increasing level of foolishness he had fallen victim to that made him feel suddenly very angry, but either way, he was doing his best to contain himself as Jonathan ushered Molly out of the room.
Once she was gone and the door was locked behind her, Jonathan sat back down on the edge of the couch, saying, “She’s right. You can’t take any of this personally.”
“Can’t take it personally? Jonathan, she was cheating on me! With a servant!”
“You don’t know that,” his friend reminded him. “But even if she was, as Mrs. Brown said, you don’t know why she would do those things. She never even met you.”
“You’re right, she didn’t. I wrote letter after letter, sent telegrams, cards. Pictures. Occasionally, if I was lucky, she would send something back. Some overly formal jibber jabber obviously proofread by her mother. Nothing personal, nothing intimate. Ever. In three years. Longer, really, if you consider all of that pre-engagement nonsense. That whole time, I was trying to do what my father asked me to do, and she was over there, doing… him.” He was exhausted by that point, both physically and mentally. He pressed himself back against the chair, doing his best to hold it together.
“Let’s get some sleep,” Jonathan said calmly, “and reevaluate the situation in the morning. Clearly, we aren’t going to have much new information so long as we are on a boat in the middle of the ocean. But once we get back to New York, we can try contacting Mrs. Westmoreland and see if she has any word as to where Mary Margaret might be and if she can tell us any more information about this servant of theirs.”
Charlie nodded in agreement and hauled himself up out of the chair. Perhaps tomorrow would bring new perspective, but as for now, sleep was the only possible escape from this ever-growing circle of deception. Moments later, when his head hit the pillow, he was determined to push the demons aside and try to focus on the angelic face of the blonde-haired woman he’d met earlier that day. Perhaps she was the secret to ending all of this ridicule and tomfoolery.