Ghosts of Southampton by ID Johnson

Author:ID Johnson [Johnson, ID]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ID Johnson

Meg did find a way to doze off, and it was nearly supper time when Carrie finally roused her, insisting she get up now and get dressed or else she would be late for the evening meal. “Mr. Lane stopped by and said that it is important that you are well dressed this evening,” the brunette informed her mistress as she dragged her from the living room into the bedroom.

Though her mind was still a bit foggy from her nap, Meg yawned and asked, “Why do you insist on calling him Mr. Lane? He is also in the employment of the Ashtons, the same as you.”

Carrie was digging through the armoire and only turned to look at Meg briefly before shrugging and saying, “Everyone calls him Mr. Lane. He’s… more important than most of the other servants. Just as everyone calls Mr. Ashton’s second Mr. Pointer and Mrs. Ashton’s lady Ms. Dumont.”

Sitting down on the edge of her bed and contemplating rolling over onto her side and going back to sleep, Meg said, “I suppose overly well-to-do people have servants for their servants.”

“Miss! You can’t go back to sleep!” Carrie tugged on her arms and began dressing her in a lovely sapphire blue gown Mrs. Ashton had picked out for her. For a moment, Meg was reminded of Charlotte dressing her just before she went downstairs to face her mother for the final time.

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” Meg shouted, standing up and pushing Carrie aside. That last thing she needed was memories of that morning or thoughts of that particular young lady. She pulled the lilac gown off, and despite her insistence that she could do it herself, Carrie helped her work the blue one on over her undergarments.

“Your hair is quite messy. We’ll have to redo it.” Carrie gestured at the vanity Mrs. Ashton had purchased which occupied the corner nearest the window facing Charlie’s house.

“Can’t we just pin it up?”

“Miss, Mr. Lane was quite clear when he said you must look nice.”

Carrie’s voice was as insistent as she had ever heard it before, and Meg’s stomach began to twist into knots. “What is Mr. Lane on about, Carrie? Has he something up his sleeve?”

“I honestly don’t know, miss, but I’m not about to be blamed for your refusal to attend supper as polished as possible. Now, please, have a seat so I may work on the bird’s nest on your head.”

Meg pursed her lips together but had a seat anyway. “It isn’t half as bad as it was when I disembarked, is it?”

“No, miss,” Carrie replied, taking the pins out so that she could start over. “It isn’t so bad, but it simply won’t do when Mr. Lane insists….”

“I understand, Carrie,” Meg cut her off. They were quiet for a moment, and as her mind continued to linger on Jonathan, a question began to formulate in her mind. She wasn’t one to gossip, but she was a bit concerned. “Carrie, do you happen to know, does

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