See? Sometimes I really do come through. It is Saturday night, and here are two more chapters.
Typo: In my last note, I said 45 was done and 46 was started. Actually, 44 was done and 45 was started. Glad that's cleared up.
Mari324: Oooooh so happy you love it. Your wait is over:)
Green Animelover: Fantastic as...USUAL?! YAY! I'm so happy that I am able to deliver fantastic stuff. Thanx, you rock. And anime's pretty cool too.
Mrs.Scott: I can always count on your great reviews. Thanks for not hating me. :) And if you hate Alistair now, wait until you're done with 44. You will despise him. And I'm glad you want to be surprised, that makes me very happy. :D
While Luke was off somewhere in the mansion with Lady Dashwood, being shown whatever it was he was being shown, I was creaming Henry in chess. Again.
It's funny, I actually learned how to play chess when me and Daphs were signing up for clubs at school, and we dared each other to join some weird/dorky ones that we wouldn't even think of joining otherwise. I dared her to join the Folk Dancing Club - which she ended up dropping after just a few sessions, because the Swedish exchange student was hitting on her.
I, meanwhile, was dared to join the Chess Club. And I actually ended up enjoying it...well, once I learned how to play. This guy named Merv taught me - and no, he wasn't at all like the word that rhymes with his name. He was far too busy with not only chess games, but also Darklord Wizard card games, Alien Invader computer showdowns, and designing an artificial spleen to care about girls.
Anyway. To make a long story short, I ended up loving chess, Daphne joined the Amateur Radio Club to replace folk dancing, and we both joined the Asian/Pacific Islander Club for no particular reason. By the way, best club EVER!
And all that time in Chess Club has made me the person I am today: one who can take down Henry Dashwood in a game that he should be able to play with his eyes closed.
Not to mention I was striking a HUGE blow against stereotypes. Haza, as Merv would say.
Also, while we were playing, me and Daphne's dad had this really nice conversation.
"So. Meghan. If I may ask, what is it you're planning to do when you're finished at Jasperstone?"
I knew the answer.
"I'm going back to New York, to finish my senior year and graduate from high school."
"And after that?"
This answer was a little more foggy.
"Um...well, actually I'm not really sure. Maybe go to the community college..."
I could tell by his face that he found this quite dull.
"Really. Doesn't sound quite adventurous enough."
I looked at him for a second.
"Adventurous?"
"...Yes...what I mean is, you're entirely unlike the kind of girl who wishes to settle for something as dismally conventional as a 'community college'. Well, seeing as you came all the way to England, that is. Before even finishing secondary school..."
This I pondered as I moved my chess piece, close to winning yet again.
"What is it you're hoping to become?"
I looked up.
"Well, I haven't really thought all that much about it..."
Henry's face went almost aghast.
"My word, haven't thought about it? Why, you're about to graduate! That's what you told me, isn't it?"
I knew there was a point there, and I felt a little ashamed. But I really hadn't thought about it...
"Well, nothing has really interested me. My cousin wants to be a psychologist, but that doesn't really appeal to me..."
"Good then. You know what you don't want to do. But what are the things you do want?"
My mind was blank. Just, blank. A feeling I wanted to avoid.
"Uh."
"Wait a minute. I'm only presenting this as a possibility, an option, but...do you think you might ever consider returning here? To London?"
This made me think. But I didn't have to think much, really.
"Well...yeah! I mean yes, I'd love to, but - "
"But what?"
"I can't afford it."
This made him look down again, back at the game board, for he apparently didn't have a response for that one. He rubbed the back of his neck.
Then it hit me.
Of course he thinks I'll be back here. Because he thinks I'm Daphne.
Why had I only just now registered that in my mind? I mean, it's only obvious that's the reason he's prodding me to come back to London. After all, Daphne's the one who belongs here. Not me. No.
Wait a minute.
How sweet! He wanted Daphne to be here with him! I mean, he wanted me. Me, Daphne. I mean, Meghan. Oh geez.
I needed to tell him...
"Henry, you simply must look over these files, they're completely out of order. What have you prepared for the address next week? Honestly..." came a fast approaching voice. A voice I didn't like.
The owner of that voice stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away from us, when he looked up from the paperwork he was carrying long enough to see exactly what the man whose shirttails he clung to was doing.
"Hello, Alistair. Nice of you to join us." my chess opponent politely mumbled, not even taking his eyes from the game. "You're just in time to see me finally win another game of chess against Meghan here."
I made my eyes move to the board. It was true. I had been close to winning, but I'd stopped paying attention. He'd found a niche, and overtaken me.
"Oh...yay...for you..." I squeaked. It was all I could think of to say, being that two eyes were once again drilling holes into my body with their piercing, menacing stare.
Henry was quite proud of himself.
"Yes. I was rusty, from having not played in so long, and you used that to your advantage. But it's coming back to me now." he boasted. "Alistair, come have a look."
The Shakespearian clone didn't budge.
"I'd...rather not, thank you. And as amusing as that truly is, shouldn't you be getting back to your work?"
Henry was already setting up the chess pieces for another round.
"The address is on my desk for you to proofread. I'm occupied at the moment."
Meghan was trying her best not to smile at what he was doing. Alistair, on the other hand, seemed to have lost all circulation to his face, because it was going increasingly pale.
More footsteps were heard, and Meghan looked up to see Jocelyn and Luke as they entered the room. She wondered what they'd been talking about that had kept him gone so long.
"I'll be talking with you more about that later." Jocelyn told the teenager who followed her out. "Until then - oh. Hello, Alistair."
"Good afternoon, Jocelyn." the man replied. "Lucas." he added, with more of a grumble.
Words rang in Luke's head, as well as in Meghan's at the same time.
"How dare you?!"
"Whose plan was it then? Yours?"
Jocelyn looked to her son, and smiled. "I see you two have been playing chess again."
"Again?" Alistair blurted, his voice a bit low, as if what he'd just said hadn't been meant to come out, but rather to stay in his head, swirling along with all of his other fiendish thoughts. When everyone turned to look at him, he quickly gathered himself.
"I mean, again, as in, you've been playing chess all this time, and never asked me to have a go with you?" he regally inquired.
Henry looked at him, a bit confused.
"What you're meaning to say is, you're actually interested in playing, but I've never given you the chance?" he said, with a half smile.
Meghan was on the verge of laughing.
"Well," Alistair stammered, the picture of discomfort, "never mind that. What I really mean to say, Henry, is that the clock is ticking, and the campaign is heating up. I want you to stay focused."
Henry bent over, looking for a pawn that had fallen on the floor.
"Henry?"
"Right, right, yes. The address, Alistair?"
"Yes. Right away! I'll get right on that." Alistair said quickly, before clicking out, a look of ambition on his face. Everyone found this very amusing.
Meghan looked to Jocelyn, whose face seemed to say to her, "You're really causing quite a lovely stir." She then looked to Luke, who smiled his famously warm smile, before taking residence on the claw-footed couch. Then she saw Henry straighten up, having apparently found the game piece he was looking for. He grinned a little as well, and to Meghan, looked almost sly.
"Shall we get back to our game?" he said.
She nodded.
Yes. Our game.
We played a few more rounds, and then we stopped. But no one left the room.
The thing is, it was really easy to sit there, still at the chess table across from Henry, just talking. With everyone. Luke was there, and I was alright.
Alistair had already been shooed from the area. Clarissa was off a-twittering with her gal pals while she shopped for flowery hats, lacey gloves, and foofy dresses. And I was here.
I know this had been Luke's plan all along. To get me around Daphne's father and grandmother, to get me comfortable. I'm grateful to him for this, for trying to help - after all, his plan seemed to be going well enough. I was enjoying myself.
But how was this helping Daphne, exactly?
It's not Luke's fault. It's mine. Because for some reason, it was easy for me to talk about anything under the sun...except Daphne. And Aunt Libby, of course.
When I thought about throwing something in that would very likely lead to the subject of my aunt and cousin, my heart would speed up, and my throat would tighten, and it would suddenly get very hot in the room.
Henry was talking a little about how he'd been in the Peace Corps. I could've certainly said, "Really. My aunt was in the Peace Corps. She liked it for the travel. And she brought her guitar with her everywhere she went." But I didn't.
They'd asked if I'd known much about England before I'd come here. I could've said, "Tons. I watch a lot of BBC America. But only when my cousin's not around, because when she watches it, it makes her sad." But instead I said, "I knew a few things."
They'd asked if I'd been to many other places. I could've said, "Not as many places as my aunt. She's been to South America, India, Morocco...". But somehow I thought it more fitting to say, "Well, New Jersey. I've been to New Jersey."
I am such a horrible, horrible person. How selfish is that? I was sitting here in an English palace, with her family - and my cute boyfriend - while Daphne was probably just sitting at home, eating Chung noodles. CHUNG NOODLES.
During the course of the conversation, I noticed something. Luke, of course, seemed to be staying away from the subject of Daphne. No surprise there. But what did surprise me was that Jocelyn seemed to be doing the same thing. After giving her that photograph and being about to tell her a little (or a lot) about Daphne - but being so rudely interrupted, I had figured upon her bringing Daphne up when next I visited.
But for some reason, nothing was said. Her son didn't say anything, either, but that was just by chance. Also, I'm pretty sure he was afraid to ask me anything in regards to my family.
It's weird. Sometimes I think they're hinting at things. Other times, I think they could care less. Maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me.
Eventually, after much nice visiting talk, it was time for everyone to go back to their own respective, possibly dreary, realities. But though it was dreary to me that I was leaving the Dashwood residence, my reality wasn't all bad - Luke was coming with me. And staying with me, for at least a few hours.
Besides, I'd be back. If I didn't make sure of that, it was clear that Luke would.
First, though, I went to what was called the "powder room", to "freshen up". Actually, I was going in there to put on more lip gloss, because I planned on telling Luke later that I "fancied him", and the reapplication of lip gloss could possibly be integral, for the events that might follow.
Jocelyn had to show me the way, because a person could get lost in a house like hers. Once there, I glossed more than sufficiently, and put on a little more blush for good measure. Satisfied, I exited the powder room, ready to go with Luke to wherever he might take me.
But as I was walking out, I suddenly felt something grab my arm. Startled, I drew in a breath - and saw that what grabbed me turned out to be the most evil man in my world.
"I'm only going to tell you once." Alistair said, in a low, wicked, rumbling voice. He'd leaned in so that he was only inches from the side of my face, and I could feel his hot, vile breath trickling down my neck. "Stay away from Lord Dashwood."
I couldn't turn to face him. But I did manage to force up the courage to respond.
"Why?" I asked, in the firmest voice I could muster. So firm that it sounded more like a statement than a question.
"Because you do not belong here." he spat into my ear. "You are nothing. You will never be anything to him, do you hear me? Your name, your face, your blood - it all means nothing."
"What does my name or my blood have to do with anything?" I growled back at him, terrified as I was.
"Enough of your facade!" he raged, yanking my arm even harder. "I know who you are!"
His face was more evil, more gruesome than any human face I'd ever seen. His eyes bulged with fury, and he looked ready to strangle me and leave me to die. It was most horrifying thing I'd ever seen in my life.
But he was wrong. And my anger was stronger than my fear. I wrenched my arm away, and looked him straight in the face.
"You have no IDEA who I am!" I snarled, eyes blazing. "And you will NOT dictate to me what I can or cannot do!"
And before he could say anything more, I spun around and took off, down the hallway, around the corner, and out into the sitting room, where Luke was waiting with Lady Dashwood.
"There you are!" he declared, getting up from the couch. "I was wondering what was taking you so - "
He looked closer at me.
"Meghan." he said, now concerned. "Your face is red. What happened to you?"
I looked at him for a few seconds, disoriented, trying to get my mind back in order. I couldn't tell him the truth. Not with Jocelyn there.
"I...I think I turned the heat lamp on by mistake." I stammered.
Luke didn't seem to buy it. But he didn't press any further.
"Well, alright then. Let's go." He held up my coat for me. Still bewildered, I vaguely moved my arms up into it and fiddled the buttons.
Jocelyn, who looked suspicious herself, came up to bid us goodbye.
"Hope to see you back soon. We must prepare for the ball." she said, giving me a little hug. I nodded, and forced myself to smile. I then went out, ahead of Luke, desperate for fresh air.
When he emerged about thirty seconds later, he looked at me, his hands in his pockets.
"Meghan, Lady Dashwood says that there are no heat lamps in that powder room."
I looked back at him. "I know." I said. "That wasn't why I was red. I was red, Luke, because Alistair Payne ambushed me in the hallway."
At seven o'clock that night, Meghan returned to the Winthrops'. After telling Luke all of what Alistair had said and done to not only Meghan herself but to her aunt as well, he'd taken her for a nice, long walk through one of the public gardens. Though it was autumn, many of the flowers were still in bloom, and the garden's beauty together with the one by her side were helpful in calming Meghan down.
Now, as she entered the house, she felt strange. Not because of what had happened before, but because the house seemed...somber.
Emma and Laurence were both seated at the dining room table, and the light that hung over it was turned on. It was the only light on in the entire lower level of the house, save for the flashing TV in the den. Emma's hands were clasped around a cup of coffee, and Laurence had his rubbing his head as his elbows rested on the surface in front of him.
Meghan wasn't sure she wanted to know why they were doing this, or if it were her business.
"Where's Faye?" she asked simply.
"Upstairs. In her bedroom." Emma said, her voice solemn.
Meghan turned and went up to the second floor, to find the door to Faye's room closed, as it often was nowadays.
When Meghan opened the door, she found that the room was pitch black. But she heard something along the lines of a startled breath, which told her that Faye was, in fact, inside.
"Okay, That's it. I'm turning a light on in here." Meghan announced. She entered the room, almost tripping over a rather large bundle. The bundle hissed and started to move, brushing against Meghan's leg as it did so. She ignored this and stumbled her way over to her nightstand, reaching for the chain to turn on the little lamp.
The room now lit, Meghan looked over at Faye. The girl was under the covers of her messy bed, with only her head and one of her arms sticking out of them. Her blonde hair was a stringy mess all over the pillow, and school papers were strewn all over the comforter. With the light now in her face, Faye squinted, holding her free hand over her face.
"Faye." Meghan said firmly. "What's the matter with you?"
Faye moved about under the covers, sending a few papers drifting to the floor, while Meghan picked up the teddy bear she'd knocked off her nightstand while trying to find the lamp.
"I'm sorry, Faye. I know you've been upset about your suspension and all, and about Clarissa pesticating us, but this is too much. All you do is mope around. And I am sick of seeing you like this."
"Stop." Faye murmured. "Please. Let me alone."
"No, Faye! I'm trying to help you. You never used to let Clarissa bother you to the point of interfering with your life. But now, because of her, you're constantly holed up in your room, wallowing in depression. What are you so depressed about? Is it because I'm with Luke? Because ever since that first day, when I went riding with him..."
"Meghan." Faye said, slightly louder. "Stop."
"I have stopped. I've stopped doing things with you. I've stopped talking to your friends. I've stopped sitting at your table. And I've left you alone, because I know you've been through stuff. But enough is enough. You refuse to tell me what's going on, and I don't know what to do. It isn't fair, Faye."
"What's going on?" Faye bellowed. "What's going on?! I'll tell you what's going on!"
Faye threw off the covers, and got out of the bed. She stood up, facing Meghan and trembling.
"They're going to close down my father's restaurant!" she sobbed. "That's what's going on!!!"
With that, Faye ran off to the bathroom in tears, leaving a stunned Meghan standing alone in the room.