Quiet Meg Read Free Page A

other, the one named Margaret?” He did not look at his dear
Grandmere as he asked, and he made an effort to inquire in
as casual a tone as possible. Yet still she clucked at him.
    “Ah, mon pauvre Charles. Meg Lawrence!”
    He turned from the window to frown at his tiny, silverhaired relative.
    “Do not take on so, Grandmere. I have not yet met the
woman”

    She smiled in some amusement, and arched her brows.
    “Mon pauvre Charles,” she repeated, in an entirely different tone. “I do not know, my dear one, which fate I
would choose for you. To meet her, or not to meet her.”
    “You needn’t be so coy, Grandmere. I probably shall
never meet her, as she has been away from Selbourne much
of the past year, and promises to return only once I’ve finished. I am due at Abbey Clare in Kent this May, if you recall.” He had moved away from the windows and back
toward her chair. At better than six feet tall, he loomed over
her in any event; when his grandmother was seated he had
to look that much further down.
    “Come sit, mon petit,” she said now. “I do not wish to
break my neck. And you must hear of your Meg Lawrence.”
    He sat, resting his arms on his knees as he leaned forward.
He was always conscious of the incongruity whenever he
was in the presence of his adored grandmere-his own
large, male self and her frail, pale and perfect femininity. But
she was his closest relative, his mother’s French mother, the
dowager Duchess of Braughton. She was also his wisest
counsel. He never failed to visit her often when in town.
    I shall not describe this girl to you, Charles. You must
see for yourself. But I will tell you of the past, the on dit,
yes? Because the family will expect that you know, and
perhaps also Miss Meg will expect that you know. And yet
you, mon cher Charles, never know such things of the
world. You see only the buttercups, yes?”
    “I am not such an innocent, Grandmere, as you well
know, though you do introduce this topic in such an alarming fashion. And if you no longer wish me to bring you the occasional flower from the glasshouses at Kew, that can be
arranged”

    “Ah! The dear boy is impatient, so he threatens the old
woman. We have a word for you. It is termed le brimeur …
the bully.”
    “Grandmere… “
    “Yes, yes. So you were in Vienna three-yes, three years
ago, when this girl had her debut. Miss Margaret Lawrence,
just seventeen. Very young, you see, but extraordinaire.
Most-appealing. With the poise, la contenance, uniqueah! elegant, perhaps. And here is her sister, engaged to the
new member of Parliament, Mr. Ferrell. And her father, Sir
Eustace, the respected barrister, a baronet who has wealth,
and property, and horses, and is most strong-he is walking
then, to comprends? Yes, your Grandmere found him always most handsome! So, Miss Margaret is introduced and
within one week, her father has ten offers for her hand in
marriage.”
    “Ten offers! On so little acquaintance? ‘Tis like the bidding on a rarity.” He smiled indulgently. “Now I know you
are inventing.”
    “As you wish.” She looked offended.
    “Grandmere, I must reconsider my arrangements with
Sir Eustace. The family’s standing is not quite that elevated. He must have immense riches”
    “Shhh,” she advised with a finger to her lips. “You think
this is for the portion, for the pieces of silver? Did I not say
the girl was appealing? Well, but of course this was absurd.
Meg wishes to enjoy the season, to see the town and the entertainments. But now the other young ladies think this is not so convenable-to have their escorts wish to dance
with Meg, to ride with Meg, to wed Meg. So some fewthe young ladies can be most spiteful, no?-they bring Miss
Meg to Vauxhall, to a fete. And they leave her to Sutcliffe”

    “Sutcliffe? The Earl of Sutcliffe?” Chas knew the man.
He had seen him on occasiona dark, striking man of
stern features and uncertain temper.