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Southampton

April 7, 1912

Meg

The dress was light pink, flowing, in a soft chenille. The bodice was fitted and adorned with rhinestones that shimmered in the light. Her hair was pulled up off of her neck in a tight roll with ringlets framing her face. The shoes were silver with a faux-diamond-decorated clasp. As she gazed at herself in the mirror one last time, Meg took a deep breath, hoping God would give her strength to go through with this—if there was a God who heard the cries of young ladies trapped in worlds to which they were certain they didn’t belong.

“You look lovely,” Charlotte said, smoothing her gown in the back.

“Thank you,” Meg replied. Kelly was out for a few days, so Charlotte had been called upon to help her dress for Alise’s ball. Her mother and uncle were no longer attending such events, mostly because her uncle was seldom invited after the scene he’d caused so many years ago at Ch

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