Meg at Sixteen (5 page)

“Daisy,” Nick said, and there was so much in just that one word, so much past and future, that Meg felt free of all fears and burdens, yet tied to time, to place, and reality.

“It will be all right,” she said. “I never knew that before, but now I do.”

“We'll save each other,” Nick said. “That's it, isn't it.”

“Of course it is,” Meg said. There was so much she wanted to tell him, even more she wanted to hear, but the sound of footsteps interrupted them.

“You'd better get out of here,” Clark said to Nick. “Grace has called the police. If you don't want to get arrested, you'd better leave right now.”

“Arrested?” Nick said, and he laughed again. Meg marveled that his laugh could be so cold when his smile was radiant.

“The police,” Clark said. “Meg, please. There's going to be awful scandal.”

Meg laughed. “I imagine there will be,” she said.

“He's nobody,” Clark said. “Robert says he hardly knows him. He isn't even a year-rounder.”

“I love him, Clark,” Meg said, and it seemed odd that Clark should be the first person she told, but then it was right. Clark was her friend. In his own foolish, feeble way, he cared about her.

“You don't even know him,” Clark said. “Meg, come back with me, and you, you get out of here if you know what's good for you.”

“I do know what's good for me,” Nick replied, and he held Meg's hand.

“The police, Meg,” Clark said. “Do you really want this guy arrested?”

“No,” Meg said. “Nick, you'd better go.”

“I don't care,” he said. “I don't want to leave you.”

“I'll be fine,” she said.

“No,” he said. “I'll take you back to the party. That's the least I can do.”

Meg thought about the scene Grace was likely to make and shuddered.

“You don't have to be scared of her,” Nick said. “Come on, Daisy. Let me take you back.”

“I'll go with you,” Clark said. “Meg, you don't have to protect him. You can tell Grace the truth, that he made you leave with him.”

“I know what the truth is, Clark,” Meg said. She walked hand in hand with Nick back to the party. The band stopped playing as they approached.

“I guess they don't know the death march,” Nick whispered. Meg laughed out loud. Clark looked grimly determined to guard Meg from further contamination.

“I bring you back your niece, Miss Winslow,” Nick proclaimed as they rejoined the party. “Safe and sound.”

“Get off of my property this minute!” Aunt Grace shouted. “I've called the police to chase you away!”

“I'm leaving,” Nick said, but he seemed in no hurry to go.

“Margaret, go to your room immediately,” Grace said. “Your behavior has been shameful. We will discuss your punishment later.”

“No,” Nick said. “You won't punish her.”

“Will you shut up,” Clark whispered. “You're only making things worse.”

“It was my fault,” Nick said. “I made her go with me. She didn't want to. She begged me not to, but there were things I had to say to her, and I needed privacy. Daisy, Margaret, was a victim. You don't punish a victim.”

“Nick,” Meg said.

“I'll stay if you want me arrested,” Nick said. “If that will give you pleasure, fine. But you have to promise not to do anything to Margaret. It's her birthday. This party is for her. Isn't the embarrassment she feels punishment enough?”

“I don't know who you are, young man,” Grace said. “But I intend to find out.”

“Do you promise not to hurt Margaret?” Nick asked.

“I'll promise you nothing,” Grace said.

“There, there, Grace,” Clark's father said. “This has all been very unpleasant. Let the boy go, and let's forget the entire incident. Margaret's unharmed, no damage has been done. We don't really want to see this incident in the papers, do we?”

Grace stood still for a moment, considering the situation.

“I'm sorry, Aunt Grace,” Meg said, but the words weren't hateful, the way they usually were. She could say anything if it protected Nick. “I'll apologize to all the guests if you want.”

“Daisy,” Nick said, but Meg shook her head slightly, to force him into silence.

“Go,” Grace said to Nick. “And don't ever return here again.”

Nick held Meg's hand for one last moment. “Tomorrow,” he whispered so quietly she could barely hear him.

She nodded back as imperceptibly. Nick smiled at her again, and then turned to Aunt Grace. “Thank you for having me,” he said. “It's been a lovely evening. Good night, everybody.”

“Wait up, Sebastian,” Robert Sinclair said. “I'll go with you.”

“Fine,” Nick said. The two young men walked out of the party together. Meg waited to burst into tears at the sight of his departure, but found she was too happy to cry.

“What exactly happened?” Grace demanded, as Meg humbly but with good posture faced her.

“We needed to talk,” Meg said. “That's all. Clark blew it all out of proportion.”

“I did not,” Clark said. “Margaret was behaving very peculiarly. I felt it my duty to report it.”

“Very noble of you, my son,” Clark's father said. “I'll call the police now, Grace, tell them not to bother.” He walked back to the house, carrying his camera with him. Meg wondered how much of this amazing evening he had preserved on film.

“I suspect you have been a very bad girl,” Aunt Grace said, and Meg realized her aunt had no vocabulary for what she felt. It gave Meg a sense of power, which she tried not to show.

“I suspect I have been,” Meg replied.

“When you write your notes tomorrow, you will include an apology to every single guest,” Aunt Grace said. “You should probably apologize to each of them in person, but this party has been memorable enough without that for people to gossip about.”

“Gossip,” Meg said. It had never occurred to her that she was capable of doing anything interesting enough for people to gossip about.

“I blame this all on your mother,” Aunt Grace said. “She was a nice enough girl, but from New York, and New Yorkers have no real sense of appropriate behavior.”

“They certainly don't,” Clark said. “I bet that guy …”

“Don't say ‘guy,'” Grace said.

“That man then, whatever he says his name is, I bet he's from New York,” Clark said. “Or someplace even worse.”

Nick hadn't said where he was from, Meg thought. Not that it mattered. He knew where she was, so he could find her and be with her, and rescue her forever. Knowing all that made her feel strong and reckless.

“Come on, Clark,” she said. “If you're so determined to dance with me, let's dance.”

“That's not a very nice invitation,” Clark said, but he followed Meg onto the dance floor. She laughed silently from the pleasure of leading.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

The doorbell rang at ten after nine the next morning. Delman, the butler, answered it. Nick Sebastian, holding a large bouquet of flowers, smiled at him.

“I've come to see Miss Winslow,” he declared.

“Miss Winslow?” Delman asked, in a voice that had shriveled many a lesser man.

“Miss Grace Winslow,” Nick said, standing his ground.

Meg, who had observed all this from the relative safety of the morning room, swiftly entered the hallway. “I thought I had dreamed you,” she whispered as Delman left to speak to Aunt Grace.

Nick nodded. “I know,” he replied. “You're everything I've ever dreamed.”

Meg yearned to embrace him, but knew she couldn't, not while they were waiting for Aunt Grace. She held herself in, trying not to smile, not to faint from pleasure or exhaustion. She'd gotten no sleep the night before, her mind too filled with images of Nick, and constant warning voices urging her to forget the whole thing. Margaret Louise Winslow wasn't the sort of person to fall in love at first sight. It must not have happened, at least not the way she dreamed it had. But there Nick was, and he still loved her. Meg wished there was someone she could thank, but the only person she could think of was her mother.

“Let me do the talking,” Nick whispered to her. “And don't mind a thing I say. It's for both of us.”

Meg nodded. She knew she could trust Nick, she knew she already had, letting him arouse feelings in her she'd buried for years.

Nick gave her an almost frantic look. “I'll call you Margaret,” he whispered. “But I know you're Daisy.”

“All right,” Meg whispered back. There was no time for further conspiracy, as they could both hear Aunt Grace's autocratic footsteps.

“Yes, Mr. Sebastian?” she said.

“May I come in?” Nick asked. “I'd like to give you these flowers.”

“Very well,” Aunt Grace said. “Come in, make your apologies, and then leave.”

“Thank you,” Nick said. He handed her the bouquet. “I would have been here earlier, but I had to wait for the florist to open. I do want to apologize, Miss Winslow, for any embarrassment I might have caused you or your party guests last night. I behaved thoughtlessly, and in the cold light of morning, I am deeply ashamed.”

Meg checked him out. Nick did look ashamed. She wondered if she would ever see that look again, and somehow doubted it. Shame seemed as unnatural to him as his harsh laughter.

“A pretty speech,” Aunt Grace said.

“It ought to be,” Nick said. “I worked on it all night.”

“You are a very clever man,” Aunt Grace said. “I have accepted your flowers and shall think about your apology. You may leave.”

“I'd rather stay,” Nick said, and Meg noticed how he had inched himself deeper into the house. “Is there someplace we might talk?”

“There are many places,” Aunt Grace said. “That doesn't mean that you are invited into any of them.”

Nick smiled, but it wasn't the smile Meg had fallen in love with the night before. This smile was related to his laughter. “You are a very clever woman,” he said. “Can we concede that point, and go on from there?”

“And why should we?” Aunt Grace asked.

“Because we both care for Margaret,” Nick replied. “We have that common interest.”

“You hardly know the girl,” Aunt Grace said. “You only met her last night. How can you possibly claim to have feelings for her?”

“You only met me last night,” Nick pointed out. “And already you dislike me.”

Was it possible? Had Aunt Grace actually blushed? If Nick did nothing else for Meg, he'd given her the gift of that moment.

“Come into the morning room,” Aunt Grace said. “If this must be discussed, let us discuss it immediately and then be done with it.”

“Thank you,” Nick said. Aunt Grace led the way, so he was free to flash Meg a V for Victory sign. Meg covered her mouth to keep from laughing.

Since Aunt Grace hadn't told her to stay away, Meg went with them to the morning room. She knew she was being unwise, but she couldn't bear the thought of being parted from Nick. It would have been especially hard knowing he was in the house with her. She wanted to sit down next to him, but that would truly have been folly, so she stood inconspicuously by the door, where Aunt Grace wouldn't be able to make eye contact with her. Nick sat facing both Meg and Aunt Grace, but the focus of his attention was on the enemy.

“Now, what do you have to say?” Aunt Grace asked. “Make it brief. I am a busy woman.”

“I've apologized already for my misconduct last night,” Nick began. “It was an impulsive act, and that's unusual for me. I am not an impulsive person.”

“It was perhaps a drunken act?” Aunt Grace said.

Was Nick angry? Meg suspected that he was, by the additional level of calm in his voice when he replied. “No,” he said. “I was not drunk. I almost never drink, and last night was no exception.”

“Then how can you explain your bizarre behavior?” Aunt Grace asked. Did that mean she believed him? Meg could have testified to Nick's sobriety, except she'd felt drunk herself with joy and anticipation.

“The party was noisy,” Nick said. “Through no fault of yours. Parties tend to be noisy. I was dancing with your niece, and we were cut in on. I knew that would happen all night long. Margaret is a pretty girl, and last night was her birthday. I wanted a chance to speak with her quietly, and the only way I could see doing that was removing her from the party. So we left.”

“And what did you need to say to her that was so pressing?” Aunt Grace asked.

Meg thought back to their conversation the night before. Be careful, she willed Nick.

“I needed to say that I loved her,” Nick replied. “What I did say was that I hoped to see her again.”

“Love?” Aunt Grace said. The word sounded like poison coming from her mouth.

Nick looked straight at Grace. “I've never loved any other girl before,” he said. “So it's possible I'm putting the wrong label on my feelings. But the level of my emotions was intense, and frankly, it hasn't abated since. I won't lie to you about that.”

“So you claim you love her,” Aunt Grace declared. “As though that allows any form of antisocial behavior.”

“Of course not,” Nick said. “I'm here, aren't I? I've brought you flowers and apologies and honesty. I will tell you anything you want to know about me, reassure you in any way I can. The last thing I want is for you to be worried about Margaret. I know what a burden it must be to raise an orphaned niece.”

“It isn't always easy,” Grace conceded.

“My parents are dead also,” Nick said. “And I would give anything to have an aunt or an uncle like you, one willing to provide not just a home, but love and caring. Margaret is very fortunate.”

“That she is,” Aunt Grace said. “Although she doesn't always behave as though she knows it.”