Charles + Maggie

Chapter 3 (Margaret)

Margaret POV

After a far too short break in my room getting dolled up for Mrs.Johnson, I wander to the top grand staircase, mentally preparing myself for another hour of frivolous small talk. I look down and see Louise dusting one of the side tables in the foyer, but Mrs. Johnson is nowhere in sight. I'm sorely tempted to just head back to my room and take a four-hour nap- the minute I sat on my bed, the exhaustion from the journey and the draining social facade set in, and all I wanted to do was sleep for a century. Just as I'm about to make my way back to my room and do just that, Louise spots me.

"Oh, Ms. Brown! Are you looking for Mistress Johnson? I can fetch her if you wish." She asks me sincerely.

"Oh no, I'm perfectly alright," I responded poliety, "thank you for offering." I pray she doesn't push it.

"Please it would be my pleasure. I'm here to serve as long as you are a guest here at Thorton," she responded, smiling like me, and quickly strode out of the room.

My protests died in my throat as I watched her disappear into the corridor, and I groan. I was so close. After a few minutes, I hear footsteps approaching. I look down into the foyer from my vantage point at the top of the staircase, expecting to see Louise returning with Mrs. Johnson. To my absolute horror, I'm instead greeted with my first glimpse of the commended Henry Clarence Johnson; with dismay, I realize I know this man's entire (incredibly dull) life story, and this is my first time actually seeing him. I am not the least bit surprised to be greeted with the most average looking man I have ever seen in my entire life. Simultaneously, I also realize that this man most likely doesn't even know my name, and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible. I watch, not daring to move a muscle as he walks across the foyer in long, purposeful strides. Just as I'm about to breathe a sigh of relief and celebrate the close call, I hear a shout.

"Henry, darling, wait just a moment," Mrs.Johnson calls out, and Henry freezes. My stomach drops as he turns to face his mother as she enters the foyer.

"Henry Johnson, I'm ashamed of you! Walking straight past a guest like she's just another slave, especially one as radiant as this. I thought I taught you better," Mrs. Johnson scolds, gesturing to me standing frozen at the top of the stairs, like a doll on a display stand.

Henry follows her gaze questioningly, and his eyes land on me. Even from a flight of stairs away, I can see the exact moment the panic sets in. Privately, I snigger to myself, though I was overjoyed with the idea of him completely ignoring my existence. To any other woman of class, he practically just spat at her feet. As we lock eyes, he begins to burn a spectacular shade of red. It takes everything in me not to burst out laughing; instead, I fake a contemptuous expression and turn my head away, still watching him from the corner of my eye. The color drains from his face so quickly that I'm almost afraid he'll faint, and his mother glares heatedly at him.

"Apologize now," she hisses to him, "before you do any more damage." He nods mutely, looking honestly mortified, and almost pity him. From what I heard from his mother, Southern gentleman is practically his only personality trait, so, in his eyes, he practically committed blasphemy.

"Ma'am, Ms. Brown, I am so sorry for my inexcusable actions. If I would've noticed your presence, I would have greeted you properly immediately. I hope you can forgive me for such grievous wrongdoing. It is a crime that my eyes were not immediately drawn to your divine figure, standing above me like an angel gracing my humble abode" he says in a stiff voice, removing his top-hat and holding it in his hands. I fight the urge to make a face at his sweet-talk.

Feeling dramatic, I flick open my fan and reply, "You are forgiven, Mr.Johnson, for I did nothing to draw attention to myself."
"My lady, your beauty is enough to draw the eyes of everyone in the room and the breath from my lungs," he says with a sultry grin. I'm pretty sure I just threw up in my mouth, and I almost wrinkle my nose- I feel embarrassed for him, but for some unfathomable reason, Mrs.Johnson smiles and nods approvingly.
"Thank you- you are too kind," I respond with a plastic smile, "Mrs. Johnson, if you're still available, I'd love that tour we discussed." Obviously, that's a lie, but at this point, I'm willing to do practically anything to get out of this conversation.