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Chapter Text

The letter arrived quite without warning in the morning post. The mill yard was so quiet these days that the arrival of the postman was now an event to be waited for and remarked upon, rather than just being one of many visitors that made their way through the large wooden gates. The cessation of physical activity at the mill, however, did not mean that Mr Thornton himself was in any want of occupation; closing the mill took up a great deal of his time and he was as busy as he had been in the days of prosperity when orders, invoices and despatches had made their way through those now still gates at a remarkable speed. For this reason, the letter sat a full twelve hours on Mr Thornton’s desk without being read with any of the urgency which the writer had expected, and it was only by the light of a dwindling candle that Mr Thornton finally picked up the letter to read while he prepared for bed. It was written on the best writing paper, with the best ink and it referred to Mr Thornton in the most courteous terms; on a first reading it was impossible to tell that it had been drafted as unwillingly as the author had written it. It read as follows:

“Dear Sir,

As you requested, I have conveyed to Miss Hale your intention of resigning your lease over the mill and associated buildings at Marlborough Street.   Miss Hale has requested that I write to you conveying her deepest regret that you should be forced to give up your business under such circumstances. Miss Hale would be most grateful if you could be prevailed upon to travel to London to discuss this matter with both her and myself at Harley Street – she is at home most mornings and I can be called upon to attend her at a moment’s notice. Mrs Shaw has similarly asked me to reiterate her offer of hospitality that I understand she made to your mother in Milton some months ago.

I am, dear Sir, yours most sincerely,

Henry Lennox.

If Mr Thornton had begun reading the letter with no small measure of apprehension, by the end his senses were wholly alight. He was not sure whether he felt pain or pleasure, for all other emotion was drowned out by the thought of seeing Margaret again. A momentary sense of doubt washed over him; perhaps he would not see Margaret at all, for surely it was not usual for ladies of her class, possessed of great fortunes, to meet their tenants upon the failure of their business, but he returned to the letter swiftly and scanned it again with increasing urgency. It did say that he should discuss this matter with her - surely he could not do so without seeing her. There was no thought of business at this time, there was no question of refusal; he would take every opportunity to see Margaret, even for the shortest time, even in the presence of Henry Lennox, to see Lennox’s easy familiarity with Margaret and her world, and his condescension towards him, the failed manufacturer. There would be no opportunity of seeing her again, indeed, he had thought that he had seen her for the last time many months ago. He could not let this brief unexpected opportunity to see her for one last time and ensure that she was well pass him by, even under such reduced circumstances. The smallest morsel of food is precious to a starving man. He would go at once to Harley Street.

Despite the polite references to Mrs Thornton, he had no idea of taking his mother with him, but he equally had had no idea of lying to her about his journey.  He had intended to journey down the following morning after receiving the letter but his mother always rose early and when she learnt where he planned to go and why, she argued in the strongest terms against his doing the journey alone. Originally, she had no idea of it being necessary for him to go at all. Had they not seen enough of that tiresome girl while she was resident in Milton, without it being necessary for him to take the trouble and expense to see her in London as well? Mr Thornton would not be moved on this point, however, and upon reading the letter Mrs Thornton began to think differently. There was just the hint of a potential reprieve to her. There was no need to have this Mr Lennox in a social call, surely. There must be some business discussion to be had. Was it not possible that Miss Hale might somehow see her way to helping them re-open the mill? For John had said that if there had been further capital to help them weather the hard times, there might never have been a need to close the mill. Here Mrs Thornton wrestled with herself; her desire to see the mill reopened and her son restored to his former position of grandeur was set against her hatred of Margaret and her unwillingness to be beholden to her in any way. While her love for her son inevitably won out, there was no question of her letting him go into the lion’s den alone. Although she thought so highly of John, there had occasionally been occasions since the Hales had come to Milton where she had gone so far as to think that he had erred, and she was concerned that were he to see Miss Hale again, were it but for a brief time, he might find himself most unnecessarily prolonging his visit for days or weeks while negotiations were protracted. Mrs Thornton was most adamant on this point and Mr Thornton, already having delayed his trip by a day and impatient to see Margaret again, was willing to give way. To Harley Street, therefore, they were both to go.

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The tall, elegant, white stuccoed house rose before them gracefully but commandingly. Both mother and son could not fail to associate the house before it with the inhabitant that they were both, in different ways, nervous to meet again. They both saw before them in their minds’ eyes the figure of Margaret, but while Mr Thornton saw before him Margaret with all her charm and refinement, Mrs Thornton could only see before her exactly the sort of unmerited pomp and arrogance that was guaranteed to raise her hackles. To tell the truth, although she had known that Mrs Shaw was considerably better situated than the Hales, she had not quite expected this level of fashion, and it unsettled all her Milton principles to think that Margaret, whom she had been used to look down on long before she had rejected her son, lived in such an undeserved state of prosperity and elegance.  

It was, therefore, for very different reasons that the pair approached the front door with a very similar level of apprehension. This was not assisted by the suspicious gaze of the butler when he opened the door just a fraction less than he would have done for a caller that was more obviously of the social circles that normally frequented the house in Harley Street. “The gentleman was quite sure that he had an appointment with Miss Hale at this hour? Only it was most unusual for the family to receive anyone at such an early hour in the morning, especially after such a night as - very well, if the gentleman was quite sure, both he and the lady might wait in the hall while he enquired whether Miss Hale was receiving visitors today.”

Such a dialogue was neither likely to calm the son, nor appease the mother.  Mr Thornton felt even more clumsy and out of place in his second-best waistcoat than he had before, while Mrs Thornton lifted her head as high as it would go whilst walking past the butler to sit down on one of the green silk upholstered chairs that lined the hallway in all her affronted dignity. A few moments passed before the butler returned, looking particularly put out. Miss Hale would see Mr and Mrs Thornton. With Miss Hale’s apologies for the lateness of the hour, she was just finishing her breakfast with the rest of the family (“idle Southern ways”, thought Mrs Thornton) but she would be with Mr and Mrs Thornton soon if they would but just wait in the drawing room for a few moments. The young gentleman (no identity was given but presumably this was Captain Lennox) had offered to receive them in Miss Hale’s place while they were waiting.  Refreshments would be brought through to the visitors shortly. Miss Hale had asked if their guests were intending to stay the night? If so, the guest bedrooms would be made up for them without delay. On being told that the visitors were not intending to stay, he withdrew from the drawing room, to disappear downstairs where he could openly disapprove as to the wisdom of receiving such strange people at such strange hours.

Being thus left alone, the visitors had nothing to do but observe and take in the finery of Mrs Shaw’s cream drawing room, sumptuously and recently refurbished in cream. The sofas and chairs had been reupholstered in silk and bunches of vibrant flowers, elegantly arranged in crystal vases, were the only splashes of colour within the room. A grand piano stood in the far right corner of the room, next to the dark stained door that led off into a smaller antechamber.  All around was the evidence of Margaret’s presence; the flowers, a pair of slender grey gloves sitting discarded upon a pile of books, and a half executed sketch of Margaret which the artist had discarded abruptly and at whim upon being called away to more important matters at the nursery. Whilst Mr Thornton found that he drew strength from these reminders, even as his heart beat fast and thick at the thought of her coming, Mrs Thornton felt even more affronted that Margaret had the audacity to flaunt these proofs of her existence whilst she ill-manneredly kept them waiting. She had often said that she could bear any burden on behalf of her fine son, and she was keen to hear how Margaret might assist him, but even Mrs Thornton could feel her patience snap under such circumstances. She had made a promise, many months ago, to never speak ill of Margaret in Mr Thornton’s presence, but like many such promises, she found that she could not always keep her promise with the same vigour that she had made it. She was on the verge of rising out of her seat and exclaiming that no mill was worth such insults when the opening of a door brought her to her senses. Mr Thornton rose up out of his seat, as much out of anticipation as out of courtesy, as he drew in a swift sharp breath at the thought of her coming.

In came not the expected Margaret, or a servant carrying the tea things, but a sombre man who seemed somehow to be simultaneously completely at home and somewhat detached from the scene around them.  His clothes were removed from his surroundings. His muted brown waistcoat, scuffed shoes, and a faded black cravat made out of the cheapest material and loosely and sloppily tied around his neck in a nod to convention, seemed more at home in a dockyard than in a Harley Street drawing room. Despite this, his confident, elegant movement marked him out as being at home here and, despite first impressions, most clearly the ‘young gentleman’ that the butler had spoken of. His entrance cast a momentary spell over the Thorntons, only breaking when the stranger’s eyes met Mr Thornton’s upright figure. Realisation flashed across his face, lightening his solemn eyes, moving down to his mouth. He broke out into a wry smile before saying, “I am sorry to disappoint you - Margaret will be here very shortly - She is not usually such a late riser – It is my fault all is confusion here -  I arrived late last night with no warning and sent the household into an uproar – Mrs Shaw required three applications of the smelling salts before she came round – You have as yet no tea – Margaret will be displeased.” Without waiting for an answer, he crossed to the corner of the room and pulled a cord to summon a maid. Whilst this was all taking place, Mr Thornton became increasingly uneasy. It was not just the natural disappointment that he had been denied Margaret’s presence after he had steeled himself to receive her or the natural jealousy that this unknown man was on terms of such intimacy as to be able to call Margaret openly by her Christian name. Mr Thornton could not help but feel that there was something very familiar about this man.  The open confusion was plainly shown upon Mr Thornton’s face; ‘the young gentleman’ noticed this but misinterpreted its cause.

“Ah. You have recognised me I see. I did wonder whether you would. Margaret thought it was so dark that evening that you could not possibly do so, but I thought you would. I cannot say that I took as much notice of you as perhaps I should.” He sat back in his chair, his arms placed commandingly upon the armrests as he continued, “From what Margaret told me last night, I certainly made a distinct impression upon you.”

Upon hearing this, the confusion on Mr Thornton’s face morphed into recognition. His feelings, were far from being likewise settled. He felt so awry that, used to taking charge of difficult situations as he was, he was struggling to make sense of what was being said and how he should respond to regain control. Although this man looked grave, his eyes had not stopped twinkling from the moment he came into the room, and he had the distinct impression that this man, on at least some level, found the situation highly amusing.  He was not prepared to be this man’s plaything. What was Margaret thinking? He had never thought her cruel and surely she must be cruel to send such a man to receive him. He had also never thought her unmaidenly and he had been wrong there too. If that man’s presence at the station had not been enough, was not his continued presence in her home further proof? He continued trying to make sense of these two opposing Margarets in his mind while Mrs Thornton said triumphantly:

“You are the man at Outwood station. I knew there was a great deal of truth in the matter. Miss Hale’s refusal to explain herself when I confronted her over the matter was most telling”.

All mirth vanished from the young gentleman’s face at this and his lip began to curl as his voice hardened in anger. “Yes I have heard her account of it. She was distraught at your treatment. Make no mistake, she tried to soften it, spoke of both you and Thornton with the utmost kindness. It was barbaric even in her retelling of the story. Was that the promise you made to Mrs Hale, upon her deathbed? To harangue her daughter when she was alone and friendless in a strange city and in desperate need of friendship”.

“I made no promise of friendship to Miss Hale. I suppose this is what passes for London morals. A Vicar’s daughter. How can Mrs Shaw allow you to stay in this house?”

This cut through the pain to stir up all Mr Thornton’s instincts of protection towards Margaret. This was cruel. This was his mother’s way of trying to reassume superiority. Her beliefs had been much shaken, firstly by the loss of the mill, and secondly by seeing Margaret live in comfort so far above her expectations.  He was diverted from these thoughts when he observed that there was a slight hint of the young gentleman’s former mirth returning as he answered, “ I can assure you that Mrs Shaw has no moral qualms allowing me to stay here. She may not have the highest opinion of me, particularly after yesterday evening, but she knows that were I to quit this house then Margaret would follow after me within twenty four hours. So you see, for her poor sister’s sake, and Margaret’s, she must tolerate me. ”

This now seemed to be stretching belief. Margaret had been with this man late at night and he was now living in the same house. Surely this was not possible. It had always seemed fantastical that Margaret would have behaved as she had that night at Outwood Station – he would not have believed it if he had not seen it. It now seemed preposterous beyond belief that she should be living with him, even chaperoned, knowing their relationship. Even if it were possible that a woman of Margaret’s Christian principles could be induced to behave in such a manner, it did not, could not seem probable that Mrs Shaw would tolerate it or allow her niece to quit her protection.  Mr Thornton started to feel that there were issues in play here that he did not fully understand. He was most eager to hear of anything that might absolve Margaret, however unlikely such absolution seemed. He needed to know more of the circumstances that had induced Margaret to such behaviour, and he recognised that the most likely method of hearing the story was to keep this man talking.

 “You speak of friendship”, Mr Thornton said slowly, watching him. “It was you who left her alone that night. Do you know how close she came to perjuring herself at a coroner’s inquest?”

All the young gentleman’s regal superiority vanished here, as he lent forward in his chair. “It was not from choice, you must understand”; the young gentleman took on a desperate tone here, pleading urgently. “I knew nothing of it until last night. You cannot imagine that I would willingly leave her to – my mistake was to take her to the station. I know that now but I was not thinking at the time – we were distraught – we all were – the only thing that I could think of was that I was leaving her alone and helpless there – I begged her to come to Spain with me. If I had known how it would end, I would have made her”. 

This was clearly meant as an explanation but it made so little sense to the visitors that it had no effect. Mr Thornton started to recognise that it was not just levity that had made this man try to provoke him; this man was watching him intensely, trying to make sense of him and read his reactions. He was still struggling to make sense of this when the marginally familiar voice of Henry Lennox made its way into the room, followed by a maid with the delayed tea.

“Good Morning Sir! How are you finding your return to the bosom of your family? Is Margaret not with you? She is normally up and about long before this hour”.

A brief flash of annoyance at this passed across the young gentleman’s blue eyes before he stuck out his hand and firmly shook Lennox’s hand in a way that indicated that there was no slight degree of acquaintance, saying “we should have given them some notice of my arrival, Lennox.  I set the house in an uproar yesterday with my arrival and everything is in confusion today as a result. Margaret will be along soon enough – she was briefly overcome yesterday evening with the shock but is quite recovered now. She is eager to thank you. You know the Thorntons of course.”

“I have had that pleasure”, Mr Lennox said coldly. He shook Mr Thornton’s hand briefly but each gentleman was as eager to release the other as you would expect. Mr Lennox then turned briefly to Mrs Thornton but seemed uncertain how to best acknowledge her; he was not sure it was quite the done thing to bow to the mother and widow of manufacturers, but neither would it be appropriate to completely ignore her. Just as he was settling on a low nod, which he hoped would satisfy the demands of etiquette in all circumstances, and just as Mrs Thornton was about to suggest that seeing as there was such confusion today, they need not see Miss Hale at all, the door opened for a third time to admit Mrs Shaw, Mrs Lennox, and Margaret.

Chapter Text

You may well imagine Mr Thornton’s feelings upon seeing Margaret again after such a long period of separation. As he caught sight of her, he felt a thrill pass through him that invigorated both his body and his soul, restoring him, however briefly, to an interlude after the days of poverty and before thoughts of silent looms and red ink in account books had consumed his tranquillity.  All his senses were drawn towards Margaret as she came in, almost forgotten by her aunt and cousin. His eyes took each detail of her in; her stately walk, the green satin that would never have been worn in Milton, the hoop skirt that would have taken up half of the Hales’ drawing room at Crampton, the unchanged beauty of Margaret’s clear skin and regular features, crowned by her impossibly thick raven curls. It was perfectly unconsciously done, but others in the room could not help but be struck by the peaceful look that came across Mr Thornton’s face and the softening of the eyes. It called all their attention back to Margaret as she dashed out of the room for a few seconds, only to return carrying a heavy pile of documents.

The young gentleman had initially seemed amused by the attention Mr Thornton gave to her, only for his face to turn to alarm at the sight of Margaret weighed down by papers and account books. All three men started up but while Mr Thornton felt too unsure of himself and of London manners to put himself forward, and Lennox only gently rose up to courteously offer his assistance, the young gentleman pushed past them both to forcibly take the pile from her in a way that would brook no defiance. “I say old girl”, the young gentleman said in a tone of alarm while taking the pile from her, “there’s no need to carry all this by yourself you know. You could have called me - or I’m sure Aunt Shaw employs enough servants”.

“It’s not half so heavy as it looks and I didn’t want to keep Mr Thornton waiting”, Margaret said with a brilliant smile as she handed over her files. Despite the absolute truthfulness of this statement, Margaret had found herself inventing excuses to delay her entrance to the room, despite finishing her breakfast a full quarter of an hour before Edith and Mrs Shaw.  The forgotten papers must be attributed to this attack of nerves. Margaret had never thought that she lacked bravery, but she had found that she had not quite the courage required to enter the room alone, or let her eyes fall upon Mr Thornton quite as naturally as they should. Eventually she found that she could delay it no longer – she began to look up at him from under her lids with uncharacteristic timidity – eventually her eyes met his and as she looked up at Mr Thornton, she saw a countenance quite changed from their last encounters in Milton; full of love, full of hope, full of serenity. The young gentleman was quite forgotten by both of them. Her eyes lit up in recognition that Mr Thornton no longer felt so bitter to her as he had in the old days. She would have forgotten all others in the room and spoken to him at once, had not Mr Lennox, smarting from his earlier failure to assist her, spoken to her directly. Her eyes darted between Mr Thornton and Henry Lennox as though she was not quite sure who to greet first; although courtesy required that she acknowledge Mr Lennox, in her heart Mr Thornton took precedence and her dark eyes grew larger and softer as she addressed him. “Mr Thornton. I am so grateful you have taken the time to travel to us, and I am so sorry to have kept you waiting – Mrs Thornton too - I am afraid we are so very disorganised this morning. Has Frederick explained everything? He was so eager to make your acquaintance”.  

She turned to the young gentleman with an enquiring gaze, her eyes alight with pleasure. They dimmed slightly and her smile grew weaker as Frederick suddenly averted his eyes and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, partly. There are so many particulars to recount, you see.” 

Margaret shook her head in exasperation, one dark curl making its way over her ear before she turned to Lennox and made as though she would stretch out her hands to him in gratitude. “Henry, I might not have made myself clear last night”, she paused here before saying with feeling, “we are so very grateful.”

Lennox’s face flushed with pleasure as he ducked his head shyly, smiled and said, “It was understood. I only wish I had been able to bring him home sooner to you”.

Mr Thornton was sure that the requisite greetings and introductions were made, but he saw nothing of that at the time, or if he did, he did not notice it. There was a natural break here whilst all were seated and Mrs Shaw began to arrange the tea things. Mr Thornton was sorry for being deprived of the chance to see Margaret’s hands pour the tea things but Mrs Shaw was evidently in command in her own domain and there was nothing for Margaret to do other than to take her cup with a good grace. Mr Thornton saw enough to see that Mr Lennox was on intimate terms with the Harley Street family and that the young gentleman was not on good terms with Mrs Shaw. Mrs Shaw paid especial attention to Mr Lennox, serving him his tea before the other guests without having to ask him how he took it, and she was remarkably courteous towards the Thorntons, but the young gentleman had nothing more than a sharp look and a curt “I suppose you still take your tea without milk, Frederick”.

The silence endured until Mrs Shaw broke the pause by saying, “Well I must say once, sir, I have told my niece that I must say this once, on behalf of my whole family, how very grateful we are to you Mr Thornton. Not only on behalf of myself and Margaret, and indeed all our relations”, here she glanced towards Henry Lennox, “for your efforts on behalf of our dear Margaret. My sister and brother in law would have most eagerly wished to join me in this, but I’m afraid my own efforts will have to suffice. I am sure my” (here she paused to take an unusually long sip of tea) “nephew has expressed his own gratitude. He certainly has a great deal to thank you for.”

This caused Mr Thornton to start - here it might be expected that Mr Thornton might enquire as to the exact nature of the cousinly relationship, but Mrs Shaw evidently thought that the relationship was clear. He suddenly felt too embarrassed as to his complete ignorance of the facts to enquire further. The situation suddenly became clear to him – a distant cousin, preying upon the familial ties that he knew from his long observation of her would be so dear to Margaret. This, then, was the extenuating circumstance. This Frederick had obviously got into some scrape with the law, which had required his immediate removal from Milton, and Henry Lennox had obtained some sort of acquittal – this much was clear. What was less clear, was why Lennox had been prepared to restore his rival, unless he was so much in love with Margaret and so convinced that she would not be happy without this Frederick, that he was prepared to sacrifice his own happiness. This, Mr Thornton could understand perfectly.

Such were Mr Thornton’s ruminations and he was so perfectly convinced of their truth that he might have laboured under this misapprehension indefinitely, had Mrs Thornton not been perfectly willing to expose her ignorance to gain further knowledge of what ridiculous efforts her son had been to on Miss Hale’s behalf. “Indeed! And may I ask what service my son has given your nephew?”

The ladies of Harley Street looked up in some surprise at this but Edith was not of a disposition to hold back when she had some information to impart to the gathering. “Why, when Fred came to Milton of course, when poor Aunt Hale was dying. Mr Thornton saw Margaret at the train station with Fred, but of course he did not know that Frederick was Margaret’s brother, so he naturally thought the worst of Margaret, but he still, oh I forget the story, for there were so many details and it was very late but some sort of a scuffle broke out and there were witnesses and Margaret was asked for Fred’s identity, but of course she could not reveal whom he was without putting both him and her at risk, so she denied her being there and Margaret was to be called to an inquest, but Mr Thornton told them they should not bother overmuch about it and Margaret was saved! I dare say it was just as well Margaret, for I’m sure you do not know how to lie. You’re so tall that there is no mistaking you even in London and I’m sure there’s no one else at Milton who could pass for you. I wish I was as tall and brown as a gypsy”.

This last produced a stunned silence from all, whether it was shock at the facts, shock at the style of the recounting, or shock that Edith had been so coarse as to say all this without a shred of embarrassment. Mr Thornton felt stunned, as though a great burden had been lifted from him, only to be dropped on him again from a heavy height, crushing him under the weight of guilt. He could not take his eyes off Margaret, mortified as she was. It was as much as he could do to restrain himself from kneeling at her feet, clasping that soft, elegant hand and bowing his head over it as a supplicant begs for forgiveness. The only unaffected person was Frederick Hale himself, who seemed to find the situation remarkably amusing and had unashamedly fixed his eyes on Mr Thornton to commit his reaction to memory. The silence was only broken by Mrs Thornton’s indignant cry of “Miss Hale’s brother! I never heard such a thing! And why indeed was Mr Hale never mentioned?”

Mr Lennox leaned forward suddenly, with half an eye on Margaret, before Edith could take up her story again. “I can answer that Mrs Thornton”, he said. “You see, there was a spot of bother in the Mediterranean, a mutiny” (here Margaret reddened further) “and Mr Hale became implicated, quite a misunderstanding of course, but it became necessary for him to remain out of the country until he was able to find such legal advice as could absolve him of all guilt and bring him home. I was the happy man who was able to prove Mr Hale’s innocence, and bring him home to Miss Margaret. Under such circumstances, it no doubt seemed prudent for the Vicar and Mrs Hale to omit mentioning him, although I know he was much in their thoughts during his absence, and Miss Margaret’s”.

Mr Thornton looked upon Margaret’s flushed cheeks which betrayed her mortification so easily and wondered how he could ever have thought her a practiced liar.

The situation was most uncomfortable and it had taken its toll on Mrs Shaw. She had been in a state of emotion since last night, which accounted for her inability to tolerate the situation any further. Mrs Shaw was usually of a languorous temperament, and she rarely saw anything in a drawing room that would arouse her to a state of even mild annoyance, unless her hair was askew or Edith had not been given her proper due when playing at the pianoforte, but even Mrs Shaw had her limits. “Well, Frederick. You told us you would go ahead and explain the situation directly to Mr Thornton, so that you might clear your sister’s name, and begin to atone for your misdeeds. Instead, we find that Mr Thornton has no idea of who you are. I cannot think what you have been about. Well, Margaret may continue to hero-worship you as she did as a child, and she may be soft hearted enough not to give you the full details of the consequences of your misdeeds, but I have no such restrictions upon me.  I begin by telling you now Frederick Hale, you have disgraced your sister, and your mother!”

Frederick Hale had survived storms even greater than a fit of Mrs Shaw’s anger, and he was not easily daunted. He lifted his head in a show of defiance. “Well, Aunt, I am pleased to know that at least I have not disgraced my father”.

Margaret’s head had begun drooping in sorrow at the start of Mrs Shaw’s tirade, but at this her head snapped up in surprise as Mrs Shaw spluttered with indignation. Mr Thornton had the impression that despite Margaret’s genuine distaste for the whole affair, there was a part of her that saw Frederick Hale’s defiance of Mrs Shaw with indulgent eyes, and just for a moment, he thought he saw her fine lips curl up in amusement.  Having regained control of herself and couched her voice and face into disapproval, she said “Honestly Fred, you really are the limit. Do apologise to Aunt Shaw – she has endured a great deal for my sake but you cannot expect her to endure this hostility indefinitely”.

“And yet you expect me to endure this for your sake indefinitely”, Frederick Hale said, rising. “No Margaret, I think it is best for me to remove myself from this house. Lennox, I have been over those papers – Margaret may do as she pleases in this matter. It seems a very fair investment I’ve no doubt, and in any case, the money is hers to do with as she likes. I have only a brother’s interest in her welfare, you know, which counts for very little in Mrs Shaw’s house.”

It may be taken as a proof of Frederick Hale’s anger at being rebuked so, rather than any real indifference towards his sister, that he ignored Margaret’s cry of dismay. With an over-deep, mocking bow towards the Thorntons, Frederick Hale exited the scene. Mrs Shaw abandoned her tea and did not stay long after him. She apologised to Mrs Thornton, and Mr Thornton, but she did find these scenes so very trying and she must rest awhile. She did hope that they could be prevailed upon to stay to dinner. Margaret agreed to accompany her upstairs to help her settle, and at length, it was left to Henry and Edith to entertain the guests. Yet another uncomfortable silence fell, for Mr Thornton was still absorbing the events of the morning, Mr Lennox disliked unpleasant scenes, particularly when family ties were ruptured in public, and Mrs Thornton was grieved to find that her final claim to superiority over Margaret Hale had been snatched from her. Only Edith Lennox seemed remarkably unaffected by the morning’s events.

“I feel I must… apologise for the state that you find us in today”, Lennox said haltingly. “You see, Mrs Shaw was very eager last night, when young Hale returned, that I should write and put you off for a time, however Margaret would brook no delay – she was so keen to be of service to you given her gratitude towards you. I am sure by now you have realised that she wishes to assist you – she is most eager that Marlborough Mills should not close its doors. No amount of pleading as to the urgency of the business, however, would convince Mrs Shaw. Margaret was overcome with emotion on seeing her brother return home without warning. Eventually she broke down and the whole story came out. I fancy from young Hale’s reaction that it was the first he had heard of it too – he went quite white. Imagine Miss Margaret carrying that burden all those months alone in Milton! At any rate, Mrs Shaw became irate, upbraided Hale, upbraided Dixon and tried to upbraid Miss Margaret but she was crying so violently that her heart was not in it. She left Hale in no doubt that she thinks he has acted very badly throughout the entire affair, from acting in such a way that he could be suspected of being involved in a mutiny (here we can hear the tone of Mr Lennox’s legal argument)to exposing his sister to gossip. Having lived independently, and out of England for some years now, he is not accustomed to such censure from an aunt, and he has taken it very badly.”

“You see”, Edith said, lowering her voice in a tone of confidence, “I fancy Cousin Frederick rather thought he would be coming home to a conqueror’s welcome. ‘Welcome our valiant hero home, safe from all his trials and tribulations!’ But, his return meant that Mama found out what a dreadful time Margaret had in Milton trying to keep him safe, and although Aunt Hale was tremendously partial to Cousin Fred, Mama never quite saw him in the same way. Margaret was always her favourite, even before she came to live with us. She thinks both Frederick and Uncle Hale have caused Margaret a great deal of grief with their actions. ‘Hale impetuosity’, she calls it”.

“I’m sure Margaret will thank you for explaining our family relationships to the Thorntons in such great detail”, Henry remarked dryly. “But it is quite true – I’m afraid that Dixon is not long for this house. Mrs Shaw wanted to put her out yesterday but Margaret wouldn’t hear of it. Mrs Shaw is quite willing to forgive Margaret for her part in the affair, and given the appropriate amount of time, I think her anger towards young Hale will abate. But she sees no excuse for Dixon allowing Margaret to go to the station at that hour and in truth, I think she has the right of it. But I hope you will forgive Hale, Thornton. He is very out of sorts this morning – he was shocked to discover what Margaret endured those last few months in Milton and while he blames himself for it, he is eagerly looking for others to blame and thereby absolve himself. He is impulsive but he is not at all an unloving brother as you yourself have seen – he is very fond of Margaret and he is angry with himself for not seeing the dangers himself and leading her into more difficulties. I wish Mrs Shaw could have seen him at my office, Edith,” he said turning towards her. “I have never seen a brother more anxious to do good for his sister – all his desire to clear his name has been on her account. But as it is time must be the healer.”

It did not escape Mr Thornton that Henry Lennox saw this family as his own. “Our family relationships”. Was it for his brother’s sake or Margaret’s that he took such an interest in this house?

Margaret came back into the room much quicker the second time and asked the Thorntons to stay for luncheon.  Mr Thornton had long felt that he was struggling to maintain control of himself – he knew he required a period of solitude to understand what had happened here and to feel how much he had wronged Margaret before he could converse with her at length again. He said that he regretted he could not stay, Miss Hale’s face fell. He said that he intended to find lodgings, as he was planning to stay some time in London on business; would Miss Hale be prepared to receive him another time? Miss Hale was suddenly full of happiness. She could indeed receive Mr Thornton another time, would Mr Thornton be free to come to dinner or was he otherwise engaged? Mr Thornton had no fixed engagements, he would be delighted to come. Mrs Thornton had looked at her son in surprise when he outlined his plan to stay, and she felt a sense of approaching danger throughout this conversation, but she was not willing to contradict him in front of strangers. It was therefore fixed that the Thorntons should return to Harley Street at eight.

Mr Thornton left the house in such turbulence that at first, he hardly knew whether he had felt more pain or pleasure, but as he continued to think upon the morning’s events two facts struck him. He had thought Margaret unmaidenly, he had found it was not true. He had thought that he would never see her again, he would not only see her but dine with her tonight. Mr Thornton was struck anew by a feeling he had not had these twelve months.

It was almost like joy!

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Come seven o’clock that evening, the Thorntons were comfortably lodged in the hotel in Cavendish Square. Upon leaving Mrs Shaw’s, Mr Thornton had first circled Harley Street for several minutes whilst he began to understand the queer sense of lightness that had settled within him upon seeing Margaret again. It would not be quite right to say that this was due to a resumption of his former hopes. Margaret had not merely re-attained her former status in Mr Thornton’s eyes; he now judged her to be even more perfect than before. Mr Thornton had previously had the highest opinion of Margaret’s character, her religion, her beauty. Attached to all this now was his knowledge of how her sisterly love had combined with such strength and determination as he had never seen before, endeavouring to first preserve her brother from danger, and then to help clear his name. Set against this was Mr Thornton’s belief in his own unworthiness. He had failed to assist Margaret in her troubles. He had allowed himself to be blinded by jealousy. If he had only stopped to think rationally for a moment, knowing Margaret as he did, he would have realised the gravity of the situation, and he would have offered her assistance. Surely, then she would have relied upon him to help her? Had she not tried to intimate that things were not as they seemed? What pleasure would it have been to know that she trusted and relied upon him! Instead, he had to see her gratitude and confidences bestowed on another. Dimly added to this was the faint recollection that he was he a failed manufacturer, whilst Margaret was a great lady and heiress.  Mr Thornton may have loved Margaret even more than before, but his self-reproaches and belief in his own unworthiness was such that he had no hope for this love to be returned.

Mr Thornton’s first thought, once he began to understand himself, was to arrange for lodgings as close to Harley Street as could be with his customary zeal. As there was no question of arranging private lodgings at such short notice, Mr Thornton, after consulting Cruchley’s Handbook for Strangers, found it best to take rooms in Chapman’s Hotel at Cavendish Square. This was not one of the first rate hotels. Mrs Thornton approved of this as a way of saving money, and Mr Thornton approved of this as a way of extending their funds to stay longer in London.  The second advantage, which was less pleasing to Mrs Thornton, was that this was no more than six minutes walk from Harley Street. Upon taking the rooms, she telegraphed to Milton to inform the servants that they would be extending their stay in London and asking for further attire to be sent to the hotel directly. Although the telegram had only been sent at midday, by seven in the evening the afternoon express train from Milton had brought two pages of questions regarding the settling of the mill, for Mr Thornton, and five pages of complaints from Fanny, for Mrs Thornton. Mrs Thornton found that she yet again had cause to be more displeased than her son, for his questions were mostly straightforward, and in any case, he had no intention of responding until he had heard what Miss Hale had to say. Mrs Thornton felt that she must respond to Fanny, or risk her arrival in London, but she found that there was very little she could say that would mollify her;  Mrs Thornton could not explain their cruelty in going to London without her, even though they knew it was Fanny’s deepest wish to travel there, or why Fanny had to suffer the indignity of being informed that they had gone from the parlour maid, without explaining many things that were not fit to be put on paper, or in truth, to be entrusted to Fanny’s confidence. Although Mrs Thornton had concerns as to the wisdom of delaying the response, she put it off until the following morning to give herself time to best reflect on a form of words that was most likely to keep Fanny at home.

At first, Mrs Thornton had not thought to stay at all. Her first thought was to retire home from this scene of defeat (for seeing Margaret restored to her previous moral standing felt like a defeat to Mrs Thornton) until she could bring herself to think of Miss Hale with some neutrality. Mrs Thornton was a woman of firm principles and fixed ideas, but she was not obstinate in the face of reason. She had to acknowledge that the antipathy she had felt towards Miss Hale of Milton, a fallen woman who was barely able to survive as a gentlewoman, would not be appropriately directed towards Miss Hale of London, who was most prosperously situated.  The worst thing Mrs Thornton could find to say about Miss Hale for the time being was that she had very foolish menfolk and a most neglectful aunt, which, Mrs Thornton had to acknowledge whilst remembering her own family, was no reflection on Miss Hale herself.  

Her prime concern was the welfare of her son, for whom she had grave concerns. He was unwilling to fix a date for their departure. Miss Hale might be able do the mill (and them) some good, Miss Hale was in London, in London, therefore, they would remain until further notice. This refusal to even enter into discussions alarmed Mrs Thornton far more than anything else that had happened, for this was such a departure from their old ways that she would not venture to predict what might happen next. Mrs Thornton felt that she could do John much more good from London, than she could from Milton. She was resolved to stay.

Mr Thornton was not intentionally hiding his intentions from his mother, but his mind was so turbulent that in truth, he had no idea what his intentions were in staying longer. Despite his frequent references to the mill, his mind was in truth fixed on conversations of a more personal bent. He had no fixed plan of how and when he would be able to speak with Margaret, but his heart instinctively rebelled at any thought of voluntarily leaving her after the previous year’s separation. Leave without seeing Margaret again? It was unthinkable! Once he had resolved to stay on in London, he justified this by reasoning that surely creating further distance would be counterproductive. After all, might Miss Hale not think that he had resolved to abandon industry? It was he must stay to see where these events would lead to. In London, therefore, they were both to remain.

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The Thorntons were at Harley Street at the promised time of eight o’clock, where they were greeted by the Butler with a shade more courtesy than they had received in the morning, and they were ushered through the now more familiar rooms to meet the family in the Drawing Room, where they had gathered before dinner. They had been invited to dine ‘en famille’, which Mrs Shaw saw as a great honour and Mr Thornton had anticipated that this would make it easier to speak to Margaret. He was slightly unsettled by the discovery that dining ‘en famille’ did not prevent the party from dressing for dinner, nor did it prevent the presence of Henry Lennox and the elder Mrs Lennox, who was visiting from Scotland. Mrs Shaw, conscious that the Thorntons had not been properly received earlier in the day, endeavoured to show them every courtesy, but there was never likely to be any real sympathy between two such different characters as Mrs Thornton and Mrs Shaw and conversation was stilted. Whilst the Thorntons had brought a change of eveningwear with them, they had not counted upon being asked to one of Mrs Shaw’s dinners, and the consciousness of looking slightly out of place next to Mrs Shaw’s elegance strained Mrs Thornton’s nerves further.

Margaret received them both, but she did so with a degree of restraint, with eyes downcast, that did little to betray the emotions that were deep within her, nor give Mr Thornton the encouragement he needed. Mr Thornton was so convinced of his own unworthiness that he could not tell that this was a natural result of Margaret’s embarrassment at the morning’s events, her emotion at seeing Mr Thornton again so soon after a prolonged separation and her nervousness that Mr Thornton should like her family, in particular, Frederick. A longer conversation might have revealed this but Margaret was called away almost immediately to join her brother and Henry Lennox by the fireplace. Mr Thornton found that dining with the family would present significantly more obstacles than he had first envisaged, for he could not think of a way to reach Margaret before dinner at Harley Street. After the initial greetings, he found himself engaged in conversation with Captain Lennox and although he would have willingly extricated himself from this, he found that there was no way to politely join her party’s easy conversation without seeming to push in.  Despite his declarations in the morning, Frederick Hale was still to be found at Harley Street in the evening, at his sister’s right side. Despite his natural ease and his correct attire, he betrayed an element of discomfort by regularly adjusting his waistcoat, which seemed too short to fit correctly. On Margaret’s other side was Henry Lennox, dressed in what Mr Thornton assumed was the height of London fashion.

While Mrs Thornton occupied herself by refusing to admire the shine of Miss Hale’s silk dress, gleaming sapphire blue against the white mouldings of the fireplace, Mr Thornton snatched a quick opportunity to observe Margaret in her London regalia in between his responses.   Mr Thornton did not want Margaret to be unhappy, but he confessed to an increasing feeling of discomfiture when seeing her as happy as she looked in London. It was not that Margaret herself had changed, but still she made a very different impression to the one she had made in Milton. She had never been unconfident, but Margaret surrounded by those who loved her, in a familiar environment, behaved very differently to Miss Hale, friendless and alone in Milton. He could not overhear her conversation, free and easy as it appeared, but she seemed to be jokingly chiding her brother for some misdeed, rapping her fan against his arm which he took in good grace. He had not thought such playfulness was in her. Mr Thornton reflected that one might expect a brother and sister reunited after so many years absence to exclude others from the conversation – but both brother and sister made an equal attempt to include Mr Lennox in the conversation. There was no awkwardness between them. As Frederick Hale readjusted his waistcoat yet again, Mr Thornton realised that Mr Lennox, who was three inches shorter, had lent him his own clothes for the evening. Margaret seemed happy - her eyes shone so brightly – Mr Thornton could not tell whether they were shining for Frederick Hale or Henry Lennox. Glancing over towards their party as he did, it was perhaps inevitable that Frederick Hale should observe him. On catching his eye, the good natured expression in Hale’s eyes turned to something more calculating, as though he was trying to make him out. Mr Thornton did not understand this, but he did not like it, and he turned away. Throwing himself back into a discussion on overseas trade with Captain Lennox, Mr Thornton did not then see Margaret make attempts to escape the conversation, only to be drawn back in by either her brother or Mr Lennox on some spurious ground or other, nor did he see her glance up to see where he was, and whether he was being attended to. When they went into dinner, it was with the same mixture of uneasiness and frustration at not having spoken to the other, but neither one of them knew it.

At dinner, Mr Thornton found himself seated between Mrs Shaw and Edith Lennox. This might have been a penance, so particularly designed to remind him of Margaret by placing him between those who resembled her so faintly, were it not that Margaret herself was sitting opposite him. When she sat down, she plucked up the courage to give him a brilliant smile which wiped away any thoughts of Henry Lennox for the time being. At least there was conversation at their end of the dinner table - Mr Thornton noted that his mother had been placed next to Frederick Hale, and that they had exhausted all topics of polite conversation before the first course was served. For the sake of peace, he hoped that both parties would content themselves to sit in silence, or at least talk to others, rather than try to improve their knowledge of the other by honest conversation. From Mrs Shaw, he learnt very little. She was not a silly woman but her mind was not of an enquiring bent and she asked only commonplace questions as to their lodgings, their proposed length of stay, and whether Mr Thornton had ever considered settling in London. Upon hearing him answer in the negative, she brightened and answered, “I quite understand. Now I myself could never consider living anywhere else, but I know my niece is here under sufferance; she adores the southern countryside but she does not care for London herself. She is quite like my sister in law Mrs Lennox in that regard. It is quite rare for her to be in Town this time of year. As soon as the Season is over she heads straight up to Scotland and she will not be stirred until it all comes round again.” This directed his attention to the elder Mrs Lennox, whom until now he had not paid much attention. Mrs Lennox  was not a classically handsome woman, and would not have been so at the height of her youth. Her features were regular, but sharp, and her mouth was so thin it could almost have gone unnoticed. This was framed by an incongruous mass of soft brown curls, dressed in the fashion of the day. She spoke little, but her dark grey eyes were animated and shrewd and they darted around the room observing others and taking in the surrounding events. Altogether Mrs Lennox gave the impression of a keen intelligence which she was at pains to conceal by adhering to every other fashionable stereotype of the day. She smiled fondly at Captain Lennox, but Mr Thornton could not help but notice that her attention was directed more often to her youngest son, and to Margaret.

Upon arrival of the second course, Mr Thornton was set at liberty to turn to Edith, who seemed more restrained than she had been in the morning. She said so little and she held herself so rigidly that it did not seem quite natural for Edith Lennox. “Now, Mr Thornton, who runs the mill now that you are in London?”

“No one, Mrs Lennox. It has closed”.

“Oh yes, Margaret said something of that kind. And what do you do now Mr Thornton? Do you think of coming to the south?”

Mr Thornton responded in the negative, which for some unknown reason seemed to set her at ease, and she soon provided him with a respite by chattering on incessantly while requiring very little answer herself. Her favourite subjects were her child, her social activities, and Henry Lennox. “Indeed, since Margaret’s return Henry comes to us so often that Maxwell starts to chide him that we will start charging board and lodging but I have persuaded him to keep quiet. It will hardly do if we run him off, don’t you think Mr Thornton? Hardly the thing to run one’s own brother in law off!”

Mr Thornton had understood enough from what Edith said and Mrs Shaw did not say. He understood that Henry Lennox had very firm designs upon Margaret and that the family were greatly in favour of the proposed match. This could not surprise him. Was it not natural? After all, Henry Lennox had not berated Margaret for being a liar. Henry Lennox had not berated Margaret for improper behaviour in the middle of her trials. On the contrary, Henry Lennox had brought her brother home. What had he done against this in reality? Some small trifles. It could not surprise him, but it did wound him, and a coil of unease and jealousy began to take over from the lightness he had felt over the past day. He began to feel that it was safer to worship from afar, rather than approach his idol. If Mr Thornton had properly attended to what had been said, he would have realised that whilst the family might intend her for Henry Lennox, they were also betraying a degree of concern that Mr Thornton might affect these plans. But Mr Thornton was too deep in his own self-mortification to understand things as they properly were. This was not a promising beginning to the pudding course, for Edith released him and others called for Henry’s opinion on the Crimean War. In consequence, he found that his only proper conversation partner was Margaret.  Having longed to speak to her for so long, now that the time had come he found that he was at a loss for what to say. But Mr Thornton was not a coward; his eyes lifted up to meet Margaret’s, and as their eyes met, with a shared glow, they began to talk. Their conversation flagged at first and both Margaret and Mr Thornton feared that it was so awkward that the other would take the opportunity to break off. Searching around for something to say, Margaret asked him how the Higgins’ were, how Fanny did, and at last, whether any of the other manufacturers had seen fit to use his recent innovations. Margaret blushed after she asked this, seeming to think that this might bring his recent failure to mind, but Mr Thornton, eager for an opportunity to discuss what he felt must meet with her approbation, was soon explaining the kitchen.  Margaret lit up at this, and Mr Thornton began to delve into all its practical and commercial details. Soon he ventured to say that should he ever be able to set up in business again, he would also endeavour to set up a school room.

“That is very fine,” Margaret said. She rushed on before Mr Thornton could answer, for she was unsure when she would have such another opportunity. “I mean to say, I know I am not as interested in schools as I should be, my father rebuked me for it, but I am sure they are of such social benefit and that you would do very well to set one up. But I mean to say Mr Thornton, I know this is not the place, you must come again tomorrow for us to talk, you will come tomorrow morning won’t you? I am sure I could make it so that you would not need to close down, and that you could continue your work, for I do think that you should, for your work is very fine, oh I meant to say, you could give me a much better rate of interest, I should have said that first, will you not come here tomorrow morning so we can discuss everything through?”

Mr Thornton did not have time to do more than agree and enjoy the deep feeling of pride that had settled within him at her praise, for Mrs Shaw, noticing that her niece and Mr Thornton had been deep in conversation for a while, and that their puddings were quite untouched, signalled that it was time for the ladies to withdraw and leave the gentlemen to their port.

Chapter Text

As withdrawing after dinner was a well established dinner custom, it was somewhat absurd for this sudden separation to take Mr Thornton and Margaret by surprise, but nevertheless it did, for it was so completely contradictory to the wishes and goals of either party. Nevertheless, there was nothing to be done. Margaret could only show her unwillingness by moving towards the door with particular reluctance, and casting her head over her shoulder to take a final look at the gentlemen disappearing behind the closing doors.

The two women who had the most reason to be happy by such a move were Mrs Shaw and Mrs Thornton. Mrs Shaw had noticed from the moment they sat down, that a most peculiar state of affairs seemed to exist between Margaret and Mr Thornton. While Mrs Shaw accepted that they could not discuss business at dinner, she could not help but wonder that Margaret was so peculiarly quiet, especially when she had been so eager to invite the Thorntons to visit. At first, Mrs Shaw had been quietly exasperated at this state of affairs; she had wrestled with the seating plan all afternoon, for she was not sure how best to give Mr Thornton his proper precedence. She had sincerely held doubts as to whether a manufacturer could ever be said to take precedence over a gentleman, though the manufacturer was to be honoured as much as possible, and Henry was practically at home. Mrs Shaw had gone so far as to ring the bell and ask the maid to pull down the thick red tome of Debretts’ Peerage and Baronetage from the upper shelf in case this contained any guidance, but this also proved fruitless.

The final decision to give Mr Thornton the precedence was primarily due to the intervention of Frederick Hale; he had gone so far as to actually voluntarily come to Mrs Shaw’s writing desk and converse with her to ask where she would place Mr Thornton. He had been most insistent that it was best to seat Mr Thornton near Margaret, for it seemed strange not to do so when they had invited him to travel so far at Margaret’s request. Mrs Shaw could not doubt this logic, but she was not wholly comfortable at displacing Henry and she rued this several times during the dinner, for she had demoted Henry to no effect; there was a complete lack of conversation between Mr Thornton and Margaret. This drew Mrs Shaw’s attention, and having watched a while, she could not help but notice that although Margaret and Mr Thornton were not speaking to each other, they were taking every opportunity to watch the other.

A lack of conversation which could be deemed incivility, when combined with frequent glancing, is a very good indicator of love, and Mrs Shaw started to feel that she had done a very bad thing by inviting Mr Thornton to dinner. When Margaret and Mr Thornton’s awkwardness started to fade, Mrs Shaw started to question with unease why exactly Mr Thornton had gone to such lengths for her niece. Having identified the danger, no one could accuse Mrs Shaw of apathy; she withdrew the ladies to the drawing room within five minutes of questioning whether it might not be expedient to remove the ladies a little earlier than she had planned.

Mrs Shaw was exceedingly grateful to Mr Thornton, to be sure, but her gratitude did not extend to facilitating her heiress niece’s engagement to a failed manufacturer. He would no doubt wish to take her back into the North, so far removed from all her connections, when there were so many others who would be glad of the chance to marry an heiress worth £10,000. Even if these others had not existed, Mrs Shaw fully shared her daughter’s wish that Margaret should marry Henry. Although in Edith’s case this was solely motivated by the wish to retain Margaret at hand in their own little family circle, Mrs Shaw was able to justify this on less self-interested grounds, thinking of fortune hunters and by noticing that Margaret and Henry liked talking to each other more than anyone else.
In Mrs Thornton’s case, her motivations were very simple; she had been smarting at sitting with Frederick Hale, and from the start she had been hoping for a removal as soon as possible. Mrs Thornton had her removal, but it did not necessarily follow that she was more satisfied with her place; her unease at finding herself in a world so different to her own discomforted her, and her discomfort made her nervous. This was not improved by her proximity to Mrs Lennox. Mrs Lennox was not a retiring personality, and, in the home of her dear sister in law, had nothing similar to disconcert her. Mrs Thornton was used to domineering the room, however in this space she was too unsettled to counter Mrs Lennox’s brashness; no one could accuse Mrs Thornton of frivolity, but she took pride in her dress and knowing that she was dressed appropriately. Mrs Thornton could not look down at her second best gown without thinking of her best evening silk dress, worn only once and still at the height of fashion, languishing at the bottom of a trunk in the overnight train. She felt unconfident and unsettled. The people of Milton would hardly have recognised the quiet and subdued Mrs Thornton who presented herself in Harley Street that evening.

This was not the only source of Mrs Thornton’s discontent. Sitting alongside Frederick Hale in silence had given her a great deal of leisure to observe the room and hear conversations which others had fancied would go unheard in the bustle of a London dinner party. She had seen and heard enough to understand that all Margaret’s relatives were promoting a general expectation in London society that Mr Lennox and Margaret would marry before the year was out, and that they were joined in their advocacy by his mother, Mrs Lennox. Upon noticing that Mrs Thornton was, more by chance than by design, moving in Margaret’s general direction, Mrs Lennox had swiftly moved to link arms with Margaret and seat them both on the sofa in such a way that would prevent a third joining them. Mrs Thornton was not neglected, for Mrs Shaw had guided her to the opposite corner of the drawing room, but she felt snubbed. It was not that Mrs Thornton liked Margaret, or that she had any intention of conversing with her herself, but her pride was injured knowing that she had been deftly maneuveured out of Margaret’s way.

The injury was deepened by feeling that this must primarily be an attack upon her son. Whilst Mrs Thornton had no suspicion that the family suspected any attachment between Margaret and John, she could not help suspecting that this very public promotion of Mr Lennox’s suit was meant to guard against any designs that a failed manufacturer might make on Margaret’s fortune. If this was its goal, it was succeeding. Mrs Thornton was in truth beginning to despair of an agreement ever being reached. She could see that Mr Lennox, being but a second son who needed setting up, would have other uses for Miss Hale’s money than investing in a Northern mill. A few delaying tactics would be all that was necessary, for John required the capital immediately in order to restart the business before too much time was lost.

It was apparent that the elder Mrs Lennox would spare no effort in obtaining Margaret for her daughter in law. She was a truly sensible woman, and if her interest in Margaret’s money was not to her credit, it can also be said that she had a genuine liking and respect for Margaret, and had done before she had inherited Mr Bell’s money. This had only increased upon Margaret’s return from Milton. Only a few stories had reached Mrs Lennox’s ears in Edinburgh, but she knew enough to know that Margaret had suffered, and that she had (in Charlotte Lennox’s view) borne her burdens most admirably. One could hardly imagine Edith, for all her virtues, coping half so well in such circumstances! On her next journey South, she had taken pains to get to know Margaret, and had not been disappointed. To give Mrs Lennox her due, part of her genuine interest in securing Margaret stemmed from her motherly desire to ensure Henry’s personal happiness.

Mrs Shaw and Edith spoke so loudly that there was no possibility of hearing all that Mrs Lennox and Margaret said, however to hear certain phrases, and to see the relaxed and familiar fashion in which the two conversed, was to know enough. On hearing Mrs Lennox sit Margaret down with a “now, Margaret, tell me all about your fine brother”, Mrs Thornton understood two things. Firstly, that Mrs Lennox was on sufficient terms of familiarity to call Margaret by her Christian name, and secondly, that she was so committed to ingratiating herself with Miss Hale that she would go so far as to compliment her renegade brother, although she was not a stupid woman. All in all, Mrs Thornton had to admit, it was most tastefully and cleverly done. Mrs Lennox restricted her compliments to the most carefully chosen topics that were most guaranteed to gain Margaret’s approbation. Mrs Lennox knew that Frederick Hale was the closest way to Margaret’s heart and she took every opportunity to provide Margaret an opportunity of gladdening her heart by recounting his virtues. This was followed by an invitation to Scotland. “You must see Scotland Margaret, we would be so glad to have you to stay” and then in lowered terms, “it would get you out of London for a time”. This told Mrs Thornton that Mrs Lennox was shrewd enough to realise that Margaret had no genuine liking for London, and that she would, in all likelihood, be grateful for a break from her Aunt and Cousin, with whom she seemed to share no point of common resemblance. Indeed, Mrs Thornton began to feel that, by comparison with the rest of her family, Margaret Hale might not be so bad after all.

Mrs Thornton felt an abject sense of relief when the gentlemen entered the room, not necessarily because she thought that their presence would liven up the evening, but because it was a signal that the evening was drawing to its close. Mr Thornton had similarly spent his time observing the gentlemen over their port and cigars, but he had seen much less to vex him. The focus of everyone’s attention had been Frederick Hale. Although Captain Lennox had seen action and had his own stories and adventures to tell, he had been honourably discharged a full twelve months ago, and his stories had been rehearsed several times already, entertaining his friends and delighting his family long enough. Young as he was, Fred Hale had the advantage of novelty and breadth of experience. He had seen a great deal. He had been in the Mediterranean, the West Indies, then in South America, where he had learnt Spanish, and then finally in Spain. He recounted stories of shipwrecks, of engagement, of being rewarded for his daring and bravery by being safely delivered from his numerous exploits.

He was, Mr Thornton realised, an excellent story teller, moving his body in line with his words to captivate his audience’s attention. He recounted his stories fluidly and with such animation that it seemed that his words conjured forth these scenes. At once, Mr Thornton could see before him the stormy sea, in all its shades of midnight blue and black, he could see the white spray of the waves as it crashed overboard, and the water drops on Frederick Hale himself, as he yelled the order for his crew to turn about. A moment later the scene changed completely and Frederick swapped his naval uniform for a white linen shirt and light beige trousers. They were now in a jungle in South America, hot and humid, attempting to observe the local people without being spotted. The next minute Frederick Hale was making his escape, riding a rough and ready mule to safety.

His audience were captivated. It seemed that even the clouds of cigar smoke moved in accordance with Hale’s hands, obeying his every movement as he effortlessly moved from story to story, punctuated only by saying “now do not mention this in front of my sister, but”. Mr Thornton thought he was similar to his sister in another way; they both drew the eye. Now that Hale was focusing on his audience at large, Mr Thornton could see how Fred Hale could both gain both the loyalty of his crew and draw the attention of a brutal Captain, eager to beat him down. He could only wonder that Fred Hale’s knowledge, energy, courage and cheerfulness, juxtaposed with his power to captivate had ended in such an ignominious fashion and he wondered at there being no point of similarity between Mr Hale and his son. There was no point of physical resemblance, for Fred Hale took after the Beresford side, and as to character, it was as difficult to see Mr Hale in a South American jungle as it was to see his son as a sedate country vicar in his parish. Mr Thornton then remembered a stricken Margaret, pale and frozen in shock in a Milton hotel, surrounded by the remnants of her possessions. With a remembrance of Edith Lennox’s description of ‘Hale impetuosity’, Mr Thornton could see Mr Hale in his son after all.

Of the four gentlemen who entered the drawing room, two of them entered with more purpose than the others, for they were both seeking the same lady. Henry had the advantage of knowing exactly where Margaret was to be seated, and to have his mother sat nearby, and on his arrival it suddenly became clear that there was sufficient room for three upon the sofa after all. He entered immediately into conversation and it became difficult for Margaret to remove herself without being uncivil. It was not that she disliked Henry, or Mrs Lennox, for Henry was the only person in London with whom she could converse without becoming weary, and Mrs Lennox had been so particularly kind to her. Margaret, however, had hardly had a chance to talk to Mr Thornton since his arrival and she was eager to hear what he thought of London, how did the people of Milton do, and most importantly, to hear what he thought of Fred. Moreover, although she knew that Mrs Thornton thought badly of her, Margaret could not feel, for all her genuine love for them, that Mrs Thornton would pass her evening better in the company of Aunt Shaw and Edith.

Margaret would never have shown it openly, but those who knew her well could tell that she was not pleased at being engaged in further conversation by the Lennoxes, and the person who knew her best in the room, without having the disadvantage of having his emotions engaged, was Frederick Hale. For once, Fred was unobserved, for he was sitting quietly and unobtrusively in the corner watching the Lennoxes and Margaret. Margaret made a brief attempt to leave the group before being drawn back in. A very faint flicker of annoyance crossed Fred’s face at seeing Margaret being boxed in by both the son and the mother immediately before he briefly turned to Mr Thornton. Glancing between the two, no sooner had he resolved on his course of action than he suddenly jumped to his feet. As soon as Fred Hale turned to his audience he could be assured of commanding their attention. Leaning against the fireplace and addressing the room at large he said loudly, “Well, none of you have asked me what my future plans are. I have told you of my escapades, I have reminisced about our childhood. But no one has asked me yet what my plans are for the future.”

Edith was the first to speak, asking “Do you have any plans, Fred? I cannot imagine where you would have had time to think of any. You’re not returning to the Navy, surely?”

“Of course he is not returning to the Navy” interjected Mrs Shaw, who was anxious to avoid a long and detailed analysis of the exact reasons Frederick could not return to the Navy in front of the Thorntons and Mrs Lennox. “He will need to find a profession, of course”.

Edith could think no better than to suggest the Law, like Henry, or the Army, like Captain Lennox. Everyone politely ignored the suggestion of the Army, for obvious reasons, however there was some interest in the law as an option, and excitement started to rise at the prospect of settling Fred’s future. There was a general hubbub as opinions were offered, then shouted down, as to whether Frederick could attend the Universities at his age. Fred surveyed this with some complacency for a minute, but he then judged that the party was in danger of proceeding too far with this line of conversation.

“There is no need to set me up in a profession, Aunt”.

“No profession! But how are you to live? You cannot think to just live on your own income surely. Margaret”, she said, turning to her niece, “tell him that he must have a profession.”

But Margaret could not be drawn into any conversation against her brother, saying only, “I think it is for Frederick to determine the method in which he is best employed, Aunt”.

“Well, you must have some profession. A gentleman must have some profession, if he is not fortunate enough to be a landowner, which you are not. Oh, if only you had gone to Oxford instead of the Naval College. Then all would have been open to you. You could have entered the Church, like your father”. Here Mrs Shaw reddened slightly at the thought of how, and why, Reverend Hale had left the Church, however this was all to be forgotten upon hearing Fred’s next answer.

“Indeed, Aunt, I must insist. I am most grateful for all your kind efforts to establish me but there is no need for this. I am quite resolved. My plan is this. My intent is that I should return to Spain, and I am quite determined, that Margaret should come with me.”

Whatever else the company had expected Frederick Hale to say, this was not it.

Chapter Text

The reaction of the London party to Frederick Hale’s announcement may be better imagined than described. Suffice it to say that there were several moments of stunned silence, where the figures froze in shock in their respective positions. Mrs Shaw was the first to break the stillness by rising slowly and stately to her feet only to let out a piercing, indignant shriek before falling to the floor. Suddenly all was action and noise; Edith immediately fell to the floor beside her mother, only to be replaced by the slower but more competent ministrations of Margaret, while Captain Lennox rang for the maid to apply Mrs Shaw’s smelling salts for the fourth time in two days.

Margaret’s two suitors and their mothers alone stood aside from the scene, with Frederick Hale in between the two casting a deceptively casual, self-satisfied eye over the scene before he came to rest on Mr Thornton. Mr Thornton could not say either then, or later, what Frederick Hale saw in his face; He only knew that whatever Fred Hale saw satisfied him immensely. Mr Thornton, weary of being an actor in a play he did not understand, felt the evening had come to an end and filed silently from the room without saying a word to anyone. Mrs Thornton, full of the innate sympathy that can sometimes exist between two people that share the same blood, fell in alongside him instinctively. Mr Thornton closed the door behind her, steadily and deliberately avoiding Margaret’s stricken gaze as she lifted her head from Mrs Shaw. He only saw Fred Hale looking after him with a slightly puzzled gaze, and Henry Lennox glaring at Frederick Hale, looking very much as though he would happily put him back on the ship that had brought him from Spain. The dinner party at Harley Street had come to an end.

Mrs Thornton, wary of the queer force that had settled in her son, was too nervous to speak as they walked back to their lodgings and Mr Thornton, struggling to make sense of his thoughts, did not notice her. He could not explain it exactly. He only felt that a great blow had struck him, dashing the recently renewed hope, that Margaret had somehow been induced to think better of him, to approve of him, perhaps so much so that were he to offer for her again, she would give him an answer very different from the one she gave him eighteen months ago. Until now he had not dared to admit this hope, even to himself. It was only now that he had given up this dream, that Mr Thornton admitted that he had stayed in London with the intent to love Margaret, to pursue Margaret, to marry Margaret, if she would have him. His discovery of her innocence, her manner towards him, so changed from what it once had been, had all been slowly giving Mr Thornton renewed courage to proceed despite the presence of Henry Lennox as Margaret’s acknowledged and approved suitor.

Mr Thornton had been painfully aware of his own unworthiness in misjudging Margaret so completely, his abject failure to do her any service at all, and his disappointment in business. Had he been more confident, it is probable that he would have already mounted a credible assault on the Lennoxes’ monopolisation of Margaret, but Mr Thornton was too unhappy, and thought too little of himself, to see clearly. He struggled to articulate why; he only felt that somehow, Frederick Hale’s desire to take Margaret with him back to Spain had put all thoughts of marrying Margaret at an end. 

These were the thoughts and musings of Mr Thornton, who, having returned to his lodgings, sat for some time in front of the fire, watching the dying embers glow a warm red. He fully expected his mother, who had gone straight to her bedroom upon arrival, to have gone to bed,. He felt a little ashamed of his self-absorption upon seeing her push hesitantly at the living room door, still in full evening dress with her hair up. He attempted to rouse himself to imitate normality. He could not manage a smile but he could meet her eyes and say “I thought you would have been asleep Mother”. 

Mrs Thornton did not answer but she took this as a sign to make her way into the room and sit down at the adjacent chair. She knew that his disappointment was something to do with Miss Hale, indeed, was this not what she had feared from the first? But she could not tell the exact cause and her uncertainty made her uncharacteristically gentle when she said, “You know that the Lennoxes are making a play for Miss Hale. Mrs Lennox nearly knocked me over making sure that I didn’t go near her”.

Mr Thornton nodded once in acknowledgement but he did not raise his eyes from the fire and Mrs Thornton deduced that the Lennoxes were not her son’s sole source of unhappiness. She hit nearer the truth when she asked “How do you think they will react to her brother taking her to Spain? Surely they will not allow it.” On hearing this Mr Thornton’s eyes flickered. He made no response but he rose up slowly from his seat and walked to the window looking out onto the street. There was little source of distraction here, for by now it was early in the morning, and there was nothing else for Mr Thornton to do, but think of Spain, and Margaret.

After a moment he turned round, responding, “there is only one thing for Lennox to do. He will offer for her in the morning. Miss Hale has a great affection for her brother and if Lennox does not act immediately then he will lose all hope of succeeding. His best chance of success is to propose before she has quite made up her mind to go with him. That is what I would do, were I in his position. I do not say that he will definitely succeed; Margaret was willing before to lose all to protect her brother and she may choose to go with him. You will have seen there is a natural sympathy between them; you would not think to look at them that they were a brother and sister that had been so many years apart. Miss Hale has done far more for her brother than Fanny would do for me. But Lennox’s best chance of success is to act now, and I repeat, that is what I would do, were I in his position”.

Mrs Thornton hesitated before asking, “and what will you do?” She felt herself to be very daring in asking such a question, for she believed that she was in danger of promoting a match that she had earnestly opposed from the very moment it entered her head. Mrs Thornton was wary of the answer, but she little expected the torrent of emotion that suddenly poured forth.

“I? What is there for me to do? I tell you how it will all be now. Hale has made it all inevitable; she will marry Lennox or go to Spain with him. I cannot tell you which may pain me more. I admit now, yes I will admit that I wanted to stay in London for Miss Hale. I had some idea, some wisps of an idea, only half formed in my head, that if I stayed a while, I could make some amends to her. I thought if I was with her I could show her that – I know I acted badly! I thought I could show her, to somehow tell her that even when I thought badly of her, this came from jealousy! I was angry and irrational because I thought she loved another, and part of me wanted to lash out at her, because she had wounded me. But now there is no time to explain - it has all come to a head – she will now make a decision and whatever decision she makes will tear her away from me.”

This was such an uncharacteristically long speech for Mr Thornton that at first, his mother did not know quite how to answer him. Even Mrs Thornton felt that she could not mention the mill in the face of this wave of emotion. There were a few moments in which Mrs Thornton wrestled with herself, uncharacteristic uncertainty written across her face as she wrestled with herself. Having unwillingly fixed upon her choice, she ventured to ask, “why do you not think of offering for her again? Surely if you feel so strongly, still feel so strongly, you cannot lose anything by asking again. You cannot be more broken hearted John. Why do you not ask again?”

A choked laugh escaped from Mr Thornton. He tried to regain control. He attempted to smile but it only came out as a strange caricature. “No, mother. Even you with all your partiality cannot think that a possibility. Consider this, put me against Henry Lennox. He has restored to her a brother she loves, the last vestige of her immediate family. Consider how this must reflect on him. He has fought for her, advocated for her interests. He has guided her in business. He, lucky man, is prosperous himself! Would you put me against Lennox? She knows me only as the man who has misjudged her and ill-treated his workers. The failed manufacturer! And then, set against both of us, her brother in Spain, who may yet win even against Henry Lennox. If he is to promote any man’s cause, it must be Henry Lennox. Consider that Hale is under a debt of gratitude to Henry Lennox. Consider that they are of the same background, that they are of the same tastes. You yourself have confirmed that the elder Mrs Lennox has taken an interest in Miss Hale. Henry Lennox can provide her with a family that you and Fanny could never do. No - Mother – stop. I do not criticise. I simply explain the truth of it. I know what Miss Hale’s answer would be. I cannot bring myself to ask her again.”

Given Mrs Thornton’s struggle to suggest this in the first place, she was hardly likely to repeat the question. Mrs Thornton retired to bed, and Mr Thornton sat up into the early hours of the morning, long after the fire had expired.

Mr Thornton did not visit Miss Hale the next morning.

If Mr Thornton had had any of his usual energy about him this story might have ended very differently. Mrs Thornton had expected that they would depart from London with all haste the following morning. But Mr Thornton, for once, was not inclined to rise early, or to depart when he did eventually awake. Mrs Thornton wrote to Fanny, informing her of their immediate return home, and she elected to post the letter herself rather than sending a servant, but this was not an occupation that would fill the whole day, and she found herself sitting in stillness, watching Mr Thornton do likewise. Mother and son were used to sitting in comfortable silence, but that morning the silence of their rooms seemed oppressive, jarring as it did with the sound of the busy London street outside.

It is likely that they would have sat there until nightfall were it not for the news that a visitor had arrived, a gentleman, whom the parlourmaid left waiting downstairs. At first this provoked some surprise, but then, Mr Thornton reflected, it was only natural that Henry Lennox should come to announce his triumph. Natural, but a step too far for Mr Thornton. He informed the parlourmaid they were not receiving visitors that day. She went away but returned again shortly; begging Mr Thornton’s pardon, the gentleman would not be denied. Said that it was very urgent. The gentleman said that she should mention Miss Hale’s name. Mr Thornton did not have the strength to continue to refuse. Mrs Thornton tactfully withdrew to her room as Mr Thornton walked to the window and prepared himself to receive Henry Lennox. He drew in a deep breath at the sound of the handle turning and steeled himself to make the necessary congratulations, but he was to find this was completely unnecessary. For the visitor was not Henry Lennox.

The visitor was Frederick Hale.

Chapter Text

The two figures stood for a moment, each staring the other down until Fred turned slightly to shut the door behind him. If there was a man whom Mr Thornton was less eager to see than Henry Lennox, it was Frederick Hale. At that moment, he could not think of anyone he despised more than Frederick Hale. If Frederick Hale had never existed, he would never have been at Outwood Station late that night, there would have been no further misunderstandings, and there would have been no debt of gratitude for Henry Lennox to exploit. If he had never existed, he would not have been able to take Margaret to Spain with him. At that moment, Mr Thornton saw Frederick Hale as the root cause of all his sufferings and trials in life. Mr Thornton hated Fred Hale and in the privacy of their rented rooms, both of them alone for the first time, he had no reason to hide it.

While Fred did not have the queer, mocking light that he had so often had around Mr Thornton, he still did not seem remotely perturbed by the silent, glowering figure that met him. Fred saw Mr Thornton’s hatred, but he did not resent him for it, in fact, he rather liked him the more for it. The silence was broken only by the crackling of the fire and the sound of Fred Hale’s steps echoing around the room as he semi-circled round to sit down uninvited in the slightly battered mahogany leather library chair in front of the fireplace. Despite Mr Thornton’s annoyance that Fred had been so arrogant as to sit down uninvited, it occurred to him that it would look slightly ridiculous to stand towering over him as though he were a schoolboy that had been sent for to be rebuked. He therefore sat opposite him. The silence continued as each waited for the other to speak.

As might be expected, it was Fred Hale who broke the silence. “You were meant to visit my sister this morning. You did not come.” Here he paused; Mr Thornton was in no rush to fill the silence. Fred went on:

“You were meant to visit her to discuss the matter of your mill. You need capital to restart it. Margaret has that capital. She is prepared to lend it to you. You know this but you did not visit her – have you found another source of income?”

“No, I have not”. Mr Thornton’s voice went lower in warning, for he had no intention of discussing his business with Frederick Hale. Every time they had spoken he had felt that his words had been analysed and used against him, and now that Margaret was lost to him forever, there was no need for the pretence of even basic civility. Lesser men had seen Mr Thornton in more sanguine moods and still thought him not a man to be crossed, but Fred Hale had not come this far by being easily daunted. He had come on a mission and he would not be deterred.

“It seems to me a very odd thing. A man loses his business. He has no private means of income. He is given the opportunity to regain fortune, position, credibility, and he does not visit the woman who has the means to restore them. Have you then given up any hope of re-entering business?”

Mr Thornton had no intention of entering into any unnecessary conversation. A terse “It is possible that I shall seek alternative employment” was the most that he was prepared to offer. He did not know what Frederick Hale’s intentions were in coming here but he had seen enough to know that the man was arrogant and devious. Hale could say whatever he had to say and go.

Even Frederick Hale found it difficult to bait Mr Thornton with such little response. He sat back for a moment, tenting his hands, as though he was considering his position. “Perhaps this journey has been a waste of your time then. Perhaps there is nothing else to interest you in London.” Fred paused, feigned a look of surprise and continued in a puzzled tone. “Indeed, I wonder why you have not left already”.

“My business is my own. I am not in the habit of answering to strangers.” Here Mr Thornton raised his voice so loud that Mrs Thornton, in some apprehension of an argument, rushed to her bedroom door to listen for the sounds of a scuffle. Fred, troubled that the discussion was not going quite as he had planned, and aware that he had indeed unreasonably tried Mr Thornton’s temper, reigned in all his natural instincts to dispute and only responded that he had no intention of enquiring into Mr Thornton’s business affairs. Casting his mind around for some line of conversation that would more rapidly bring them to the subject of his visit, Frederick said:

“My sister was expecting a visit from you this morning. She sat at home for three hours. Instead she spent her time shut up with Henry Lennox. I believe my aunt and cousin expected him to stay for luncheon but he did not do so. He seems to have left in rather a hurry.”

For once, Mr Thornton’s understanding was rather delayed, for he had been in such a heavy state of sorrow the past day that it had temporarily dulled his wits, but suddenly he then took Hale’s meaning. Margaret was not to marry Henry Lennox. His heart instinctively soared rapidly, but the burst of happiness was dulled almost immediately by a dim awareness at the back of his mind that there was something he had forgotten that would cause him grief. His heart crashed back down with the remembrance that this did not mean that Margaret would stay near him. Instead, this meant that Margaret would go to Spain. He could not understand though, why Hale would think it important to let him know that Margaret had chosen to go to Spain with him, rather than marry Mr Lennox. Mr Thornton was, for once, rather lost as to what to make of it. In truth, neither gentleman was entirely able to hide their feelings as well as they usually did. Had an independent observer been in the room, they would have been able to understand a good deal of the situation, for Mr Thornton’s happiness that Margaret had refused Lennox had been writ upon his face, and Fred Hale’s relief at seeing Mr Thornton react so, was also apparent.

Fred would never have admitted it to Thornton but he was, in truth, slightly ashamed of himself. He had been rather surprised when Mr Thornton had left the dinner party so early and slightly concerned when he defied all expectations and had not appeared at Harley Street that morning. This was not the result he had intended and despite his constant confidence in his own abilities, Fred started to feel that he had not done well by Margaret.

Let us now temporarily depart from Chapman's Hotel so that we can be clear as to Frederick Hale’s intentions; he had arrived in London with the express intention of taking Margaret back to Spain with him, that much was true, but he had also been perfectly willing to agree to Margaret’s marrying Henry Lennox. Such were the expectations of Fred Hale when he arrived late that night in Harley Street to the shock of his remaining relatives. He arrived with images of a rapturous welcome in his mind, culminating in either Margaret’s removal to Spain with him, or with the expected marriage of Margaret and Henry Lennox. He was very aware that Lennox had gone to great lengths on his behalf, and, being a rational man, he was equally aware that he had only done so because he had a personal interest in Margaret Hale’s brother. Fred was sensible that Lennox must have a sincere affection for Margaret to interest himself in his case. He did not mean to push Margaret into any marriage that was not to her liking for the sake of gratitude, but Lennox was a clever man, with a great deal of promise, and if she too liked Lennox, then he would not stand in her way.

Having arrived with such ideas, it may then be imagined how shocked he was after the initial expected flurry of tears, shrieks and the bustle of servants rushing to do Mrs Shaw’s bidding had died down and Margaret’s story came out. Mrs Shaw had quite forgotten that Mr Thornton had been asked to visit but Margaret herself had mentioned his name very early on. She told Fred that he was expected very soon and that she was very eager for them to meet and “clear up some misunderstanding”. This last was Greek to Fred, and before he could ask for some explanation, Mrs Shaw had interjected to insist that Mr Thornton be refused entry if he were to arrive tomorrow. Surely he could speak to Henry alone, or if he really must see Margaret, he could come back some other time, for what did Margaret mean by wanting a stranger in the house so soon after Fred’s return. She herself was quite in a flutter and besides, had Margaret not seen that her brother was wearing the clothes of a labourer? Fred resented this slur on his attire but he equally protested against receiving some “tiresome manufacturer he had never set eyes on in his life, and for what exactly?”

Margaret held firm, with the result that the whole story came out. Fred had had no inkling of what had happened after his departure from Milton, and he was wholly unprepared for the scene that followed and how it reflected badly on himself. He was affronted to be told that he had jeopardised his sister’s reputation, outraged at the accusation that he had left his sister at the mercy of the wives and sons of manufacturers, and astounded to realise that Margaret’s affections lay in a very different arena to what he had expected. When Margaret had recounted her tale she had made very frequent references to Mr Thornton; how Mr Thornton had helped her, how Mr Thornton now thought badly of her, how they needed to explain to Mr Thornton that things were not as they had then seemed. This, together with the depth of her sorrow, had told Fred much more than Margaret had realised. Fred and Margaret had sat up together very late into the night, talking of things that could not with delicacy be explained in a letter, but in short, Fred very quickly became aware that if he were to give way for anyone, he would be giving way for Mr Thornton, not Mr Lennox.

Fred shared his family’s prejudices against manufacturers, but he was an affectionate brother and, conscious of all Margaret had suffered in Milton, he was unwilling to deny her anything. He was not, however, happy at the stories he heard of Mrs Thornton’s behaviour and Mr Thornton’s censure, both because he did not like hearing Margaret criticised, particularly by her social inferiors, and because he felt it reflected badly on himself. Fred had also become aware that Mr Thornton had had to close his mill; he was aware that a fortune the size of Margaret’s would entice the unscrupulous and, not knowing Mr Thornton, he became concerned that financial need would lead him to marry a woman whose morals he had previously criticised. He was not, therefore, prepared to let Margaret marry Mr Thornton without some proof of his continued uninterested affection.

This then was the overt reason why Fred had so openly announced himself as the man who had been at Outwood station that night whilst failing to disclose his identity. He had decided to bait Mr Thornton and observe his reactions and behaviour in response to himself. By now it will be apparent that Fred enjoyed a good scene more than many people and he had the ability to create one; his natural ability to read people had been honed by years in foreign countries and precarious situations where he had had to ensure his survival and he took a natural pride in his ability to act his part and to turn a situation to his advantage. Mr Thornton might pride himself on his restraint, and his shrewd judgement in business, but his jealousy towards Margaret’s supposed illicit lover, as well as his absorption with Margaret herself, had been obvious. Fred had been confident in his conclusion that Mr Thornton was both passionately and rationally in love with his sister before the afternoon tea was even laid.

There may have also been another, less obvious reason, hidden even to Fred himself. His guilt at putting Margaret into such a position discomforted him, and even though he baulked at Mrs Shaw’s censure, he had inwardly chastised himself to a level that even Mrs Shaw might have found sufficient had she realised. Fred’s manoeuvring had provided him with a distraction from his feelings of guilt, the opportunity to berate two alternative culprits for Margaret’s unhappiness and a means of re-establishing his internal feelings of superiority.

Content in the certainty that Mr Thornton really loved Margaret, it might have rested here, but Fred had continued to observe Margaret and Mr Thornton throughout dinner. He saw how the knowledge of all that had passed beforehand had made them unnaturally self-conscious and shy with each other. Despairing of their joint ability to move things on at all, and disliking to see how Margaret was monopolised by both Lennoxes against her will, Fred had tried to push Mr Thornton into acknowledging his feelings and declaring himself by announcing his intentions to take Margaret to Spain.
He had rather enjoyed the initial outcry, and in the morning, confident that Mr Thornton would soon arrive, Fred had continued to find the situation rather amusing. Margaret had fixed herself where she would be sure to hear the doorbell as soon as it rang, despite Fred’s teasing that Mrs Shaw had more than sufficient servants to answer the door and send for her if she was needed. She had picked up a book, which she was ostensibly reading, but Fred’s keen eyes had noticed that Margaret had not turned the page in the past hour.

No visitor came and eventually Mrs Shaw and Edith followed them into the drawing room, making so much noise it was impossible for Margaret to hear anything, leading Margaret to go up to her room to look out at the road unobserved. Fred had not been inclined to stay where he was unwelcome, for his declaration the previous evening had not only reignited all Mrs Shaw’s hostility, but added Edith to his list of foes. After a short while then, Fred had followed Margaret upstairs, only to be taken aback by the wan face and quivering lips that greeted him with an “Oh Fred, Mr Thornton does not mean to come today at all.”

Fred initially thought that love had made Margaret impatient and dramatic, but when Mr Thornton had really not arrived that morning, Fred had started to become concerned that he might have overplayed his hand slightly. He was not quite sure how to handle the situation; even Fred thought it rather indelicate to go to a man and tell him that his sister loved him, but Margaret’s reaction made Fred feel that he must try and do something, resulting in his visit to Mr Thornton’s lodgings where for once, Fred Hale was unsure what to say and how best to explain himself.

Having explained the situation, we return to Mr Thornton and Mr Hale in Chapman's Hotel. Mr Thornton, having understood that Mr Lennox had offered, and had been refused, saw only one possible outcome and only one possible question that Mr Thornton could ask, which was, “And when do you return to Spain with Miss Hale?”

“Ah, yes.” Fred’s face lit up. “This is rather to the point. My sister does not intend to return with me to Spain. She has expressed a desire to go back into the North. She wishes to go to Milton. I have been there and seen it and I think she is half mad - but it must be her own decision”.

“The North?” This was so far from what Mr Thornton had expected that he felt he must have misunderstood somehow. “Miss Hale return to Milton? Why would she wish to return to Milton?”

“An excellent question”, Fred said brightly. “I have been asking her that myself. I do not understand it but there it is. I can only say what she wishes to do. I cannot explain it.”

Three shocks in the space of thirty six hours may unsettle the best of characters and Mr Thornton was no exception. He felt that Hale was trying to explain something of importance to him, he tried to understand what this was, but he struggled to do so. He felt that Hale’s words were pushing him towards one answer that seemed too beautiful to be true. Twice in the past two and a half years he had raised his hopes with Margaret Hale, after the riot, when he had proposed, and yesterday, when Margaret had cleared her name and behaved so forgivingly to him. Both times they had been dashed and his heart trembled to think that he was being encouraged to risk himself a third time, particularly on the word of a man Mr Thornton distrusted as much as Frederick Hale.

Fred, seeing the struggle written on Mr Thornton’s face, paused for a moment, then made up his mind. His voice and face softened, he leant forward, and said gently: “As a Northern man, you may understand it better. Why do you not come back to Harley Street with me and see her?” Fred smiled, not the queer mocking smile that he had often directed at Mr Thornton previously, but the genuine smile he had seen Fred give Margaret. At that moment, Mr Thornton thought, Frederick Hale looked very like his sister. The resemblance made his mind up.

When Mrs Thornton heard the door to their lodgings close a few minutes later, she rushed into the parlour, only to find the fire crackling merrily, with two empty library armchairs placed before it. Mr Thornton had returned to Harley Street to see Miss Hale.

Chapter Text

Two very different characters walked back to Harley Street that day, one all satisfied confidence, the other so completely uncertain of his actions and of what reception he might find at Harley Street. Fred might be confident of his success, but events since the strike had completely zapped Mr Thornton’s confidence. Since his father’s death he had struggled, and been conscious of it, but even at that early age, supported by his mother, he had felt that his father’s mistakes were not his own. His later success had convinced him of that. He had applied himself, he had acted honourably, and his reward was that he met with constant success. Ever since he had taken over the administration of Marlborough Mills, he had congratulated himself that this was the very natural and deserved result of all his previous endeavours. After the strike, he had applied himself with the same vigour to  do what he thought was right, but with very different results. Mr Thornton’s failure meant that he had had to re-examine all his previous beliefs and in truth, although Mr Thornton had not yet realised it, he had not yet discovered who he was independent of being the Master of Marlborough Mills. As such, Mr Thornton had very little of his previous confidence, which had never been much in evidence when it came to Margaret in any case, and today he found himself being carried along by Fred’s buoyant optimism.

Fred seemed to instinctively know when Mr Thornton’s courage was failing him, and at this point he would turn to him and smile. Every time he did so, Mr Thornton would be struck, not just by his resemblance to Margaret, but by the impression that Fred Hale believed in his chances of success wholeheartedly.  Mr Thornton thought that it was a very strange thing to say about a man whom you had disliked from the moment you saw him, but every time Fred turned to him, encouraging him on, he felt that it might be worth continuing, if a man like Fred Hale believed in him so.

Supported by Fred, Mr Thornton soon reached the front door of the study in Harley Street. The house was uncharacteristically silent. Edith and Mrs Shaw had not absolutely realised that Margaret was not going to marry Henry, but they understood enough to know there had been some sort of a disagreement and this vexed them. Edith was sulking in private, for she had attempted to rebuke Margaret with all the power her married status gave her and had left Margaret’s bedroom defeated. In support of this aim, Mrs Shaw had gone to visit Mrs Lennox and salvage what she could from the situation. Harley Street was therefore unusually quiet that day when Mr Thornton was mercifully left alone with his thoughts, waiting for Margaret. Fred, uncertain of his success, had with uncharacteristic caution not told Margaret where he was going and why, so it was a shock to her when Fred entered her room to take her two hands in his and gently say, “Margaret, Mr Thornton is waiting for you downstairs”.  

It was two pale and uncertain figures who met in the study at Harley Street that afternoon, both trembling with hope and uncertainty. Fred had left them immediately, without so much as a wry glance behind him. Given their joint inability to move things on, Fred had briefly considered whether he should go in with Mr Thornton, but then, remembering Margaret’s distress earlier in the day, he decided this would be a good time to congratulate himself on his achievement and remove himself from the scene. For the first time since Mr Thornton had berated Margaret for her conduct all those months ago in Milton, they found themselves alone.

She began hurriedly:

“I am so sorry Mr. Lennox is not here,—he could have done it so much better than I can. He is my adviser in this”——

“I am sorry that I came, if it troubles you. Shall I go to Mr. Lennox’s chambers and try and find him?”

“No, thank you. I wanted to tell you, how grieved I was to find that I am to lose you as a tenant. But, my brother says, things are sure to brighten”——

“Mr Hale knows little about it,” said Mr. Thornton quietly. “Happy and fortunate in all a man cares for, he does not understand what it is to find oneself no longer young—yet thrown back to the starting-point which requires the hopeful energy of youth—to feel one half of life gone, and nothing done—nothing remaining of wasted opportunity, but the bitter recollection that it has been. Miss Hale, would rather not hear Mr Hale’s opinion of my affairs. Those who are happy and successful themselves are too apt to make light of the misfortunes of others.”

“You are unjust,” said Margaret, gently. “Fred has only spoken of the great probability which he believes there to be of your redeeming—your more than redeeming what you have lost—don’t speak till I have ended—pray don’t.” And collecting herself once more, she went on rapidly turning over some law papers, and statement of accounts in a trembling hurried manner. “Oh! here it is! and—Mr Lennox drew me out a proposal—I wish he was here to explain it—showing that if you would take some money of mine, eighteen hundred and fifty-seven pounds, lying just at this moment unused in the bank, and bringing me in only two and a half per cent.—you could pay me much better interest, and might go on working Marlborough Mills.” Her voice had cleared itself and become more steady. Mr. Thornton did not speak, and she went on looking for some paper on which were written down the proposals for security; for she was most anxious to have it all looked upon in the light of a mere business arrangement, in which the principal advantage would be on her side. While she sought for this paper, her very heart-pulse was arrested by the tone in which Mr. Thornton spoke. His voice was hoarse, and trembling with tender passion, as he said:—

“Margaret!”

For an instant she looked up; and then sought to veil her luminous eyes by dropping her forehead on her hands. Again, stepping nearer, he besought her with another tremulous eager call upon her name.

“Margaret!”

Still lower went the head; more closely hidden was the face, almost resting on the table before her. He came close to her. He knelt by her side, to bring his face to a level with her ear; and whispered—panted out the words:—

“Take care.—If you do not speak—I shall claim you as my own in some strange presumptuous way.—Send me away at once, if I must go;—Margaret!—”

At that third call she turned her face, still covered with her small white hands, towards him, and laid it on his shoulder, even hiding it there; and it was too delicious to feel her soft cheek against his, for him to wish to see either deep blushes or loving eyes. He clasped her close. But they both kept silence. At length she murmured in a broken voice:

“Oh, Mr. Thornton, I am not good enough!”

“Not good enough! Don’t mock my own deep feeling of unworthiness.”

After a minute or two he gently disengaged her hands from her face, and laid her arms as they had once before been placed to protect him from the rioters.

“Do you remember, love?” he murmured. “And how I requited you with my insolence the next day?”

“I remember how wrongly I spoke to you,—that is all.”

“Look here! Lift up your head. I have something to show you!” She slowly faced him, glowing with beautiful shame.

“Do you know these roses?” he said, drawing out his pocket-book, in which were treasured up some dead flowers.

“No!” she replied, with innocent curiosity. “Did I give them to you?”

“No! Vanity; you did not. You may have worn sister roses very probably.”

She looked at them, wondering for a minute, then she smiled a little as she said—

“They are from Helstone, are they not? I know the deep indentations round the leaves. Oh! have you been there? When were you there?”

“I wanted to see the place where Margaret grew to what she is, even at the worst time of all, when I had no hope of ever calling her mine. I went there on my return from Havre.”

“You must give them to me,” she said, trying to take them out of his hand with gentle violence.

“Very well. Only you must pay me for them!”

“How shall I ever tell Aunt Shaw?” she whispered, after some time of delicious silence.

“Let me speak to her.”

“Oh, no! I owe to her,—but what will she say?”

“I can guess. Her first exclamation will be, ‘That man!’”

“Hush!” said Margaret, “or I shall try and show you your mother’s indignant tones as she says, ‘That woman!’”

Chapter Text

Who can be in any doubt as to what followed?

It has been said that one happy couple is the same as another; the reader will understand that this was not the case with Margaret and John. Their happiness was not commonplace. Their lives had not been easy, nor had they usually been happy, and their engagement had arrived upon them suddenly, after they had given up all hope. Their love was based upon a clear knowledge of the other’s merits, and a strong, mutual admiration for all that the other had overcome and endured. If ever a couple entered matrimony, secure in the knowledge that they loved rationally as well as passionately, it was Margaret Hale and John Thornton.

Fred delighted in their joy and took every opportunity, rare though they were in Mrs Shaw’s house, to take the credit for promoting the match himself. Given Margaret and John’s happiness, they saw no need to threaten their newfound familial harmony by contradicting him, but privately, they questioned whether they would have settled things much more simply and quickly had it all been left to themselves.

Fred continued for some time to reiterate his offer that they should come to Spain, where his knowledge and Mr Thornton’s skills, combined with Margaret’s fortune, would, he was sure, make them all a vast sum of money in the shipping trade. Mr Thornton, who had more reason than anyone to know how Margaret and Fred genuinely loved each other, briefly genuinely considered this offer. With infallible logic, however, he concluded that Margaret’s happiness would be best assured by preserving happy relations between himself and Fred, and his knowledge of Fred’s personality led him to conclude that harmonious family relations would be best preserved by distance. So once Fred saw Margaret and John married, he sailed back to Spain, to rejoice from afar over their domestic happiness as much as he would have done in England.

Mrs Shaw found herself powerless to stop the match. She resisted as much as she could but the dramatics of the past few days had sapped her will. Had she thought there was any hope of reintroducing the match with Henry, she would very likely have continued her opposition further, but she returned from her call on Mrs Lennox despondent, for what she heard there was not encouraging. Neither she nor Mrs Lennox ever told another soul what had passed between them, but Mrs Shaw left the house in the knowledge that a match between Henry and Margaret was hopeless.  An unpleasant interview unavoidably took place between herself and Margaret, where she refused her blessing for as long as she could, before she realised that her refusal would only create a further rift in the family, for Margaret was of age and she was determined. The explanation that Mr Thornton had loved Margaret long before she inherited Mr Bell’s fortune, gave Mrs Shaw, who had always been in favour of love matches, a reason to revoke her opposition and allowed her  to receive Mr Thornton with a tolerable imitation of civility. 

Mrs Shaw found herself reconciled to the match far more rapidly then she would have expected, and far earlier than Edith. After all, it was to her credit as a mother, and most natural, that Edith should have made the better match, and lived in greater comfort than Margaret. She thought of Maria, and the scenes that had ensued when she had announced her engagement to a vicar with no private fortune to sustain him. With a remembrance of these scenes past, she found herself thinking that as much as she loved Margaret, perhaps the match was not such a mésalliance as she first believed.

Edith, on the other hand, unaccustomed to being denied what she wanted, reacted so badly that for a time, all intimacy between herself and Margaret was at an end. Perpetual enmity was never likely for long; Edith had insufficient energy to maintain a feud and Margaret loved her too well to hold Edith’s words against her for long. In any case, a shift took place on the occasion of Henry’s marriage to a lady of title and fortune.  Edith liked the Honourable Mrs Lennox very much, which can be attributed to their being very alike, and they were soon on intimate terms. Edith was no longer inclined to think Margaret’s marriage the catastrophe that she had thought it previously, indeed, she was no longer inclined to think of it at all. Edith’s acquisition of a more amenable replacement led to a weakening of the bonds between them. Their diverging lives and their completely different characters had begun to create a distance between them ever since Edith’s marriage, and it was inevitable that Margaret’s marriage to Mr Thornton and her removal to the North should exacerbate this.  

Margaret, who had very few relatives left in the world, and who thought of Edith like a sister, was willing to continue the relationship as before. As Edith had found a more agreeable replacement, however, closer to her in terms of geography and temperament, it was most natural that the bonds should weaken. Margaret and John’s annual visit to Harley Street was planned every year without fail, and in some years, it actually took place. It was not that Edith intentionally sabotaged the visits, but she had so many other matters on her mind, and so many social engagements, that inevitably, it was not always possible to arrange a date that suited them both.  In the end, it was most natural that the sisterly bond between them that both had thought could never falter, dwindled into a correspondence that was most diligently kept up by Margaret, and sporadically answered by Edith.

Mrs Thornton spoke little, but she felt much on hearing the news that Margaret and John were to be married. She decided almost immediately that she would endeavour to be civil to Margaret. Not only was she dedicated to her son’s happiness, she was a most practical woman. She knew from bitter experience that John would always take Margaret’s side in any disagreement, and she had no wish to live with Fanny. In consequence, Mrs Thornton made every effort to be courteous to Margaret. In the beginning, Margaret was nervous, and Mrs Thornton wary, but in time, they grew to understand and genuinely like each other. Margaret found that Mrs Thornton gave her more fruitful advice and support than either her own mother or Aunt Shaw had ever done, and Mrs Thornton found that Margaret was a more genuine companion and support than her own daughter. They were both too loyal to their relatives to make the comparison aloud, but each found themselves grateful for the other. In time, they found themselves to be that most rare of cases, a mother and daughter in law who liked each other more after the wedding, than they had done before.

Turning briefly to Fanny. Mrs Thornton was right to worry that Fanny would make her own way to London, for she took advantage of her status as a married woman to travel alone. She arrived that evening to find that her family were to return to the North without delay. Fanny was most indignant to discover that John had become engaged to Miss Hale, for Miss Hale was so dreary, and she dressed so badly, and John and Mother would need to return to Milton to take care of business, meaning that there was no reason for her to stay in London. Fanny, however, was very quickly mollified, for Margaret and John’s impending wedding gave her a reason to return to London on an extended stay. Besides, after the initial euphoria of feeling that she had been in the right over Watson’s speculation, Fanny was beginning to realise that, despite her husband’s success, it was not to her credit in Milton society that her brother was a failed manufacturer. Fanny could therefore persuade herself that John’s marrying Miss Hale was not such a very bad thing, and content herself in the knowledge that she would always be the best dressed and most elegant at family parties.

Margaret and John returned to Milton, and they set up business again at Marlborough Mills, but they did not stay there long. It had been most necessary that they should return to the North. Margaret’s aim, although she did not realise it, was to restore John’s confidence in himself, and the only way that this was possible was for John to re-establish himself as a Milton manufacturer. He set himself to this goal for several years with industry and zeal, but once the mill had been profitable for a few years, he began to have time and energy to think of other things, and once he started thinking, he began to  think that it might be best for himself, and his family, to leave Milton.

Margaret gloried in being John Thornton’s wife, and John’s pride in his wife was deep and unqualified, but this did not mean that the strains of living in Milton had disappeared. John was acutely aware that in truth, neither him not Margaret fit in to Milton society. Margaret had very little real companionship other than his mother and himself, and John was aware that even he rarely found their compulsory social engagements congenial, although he himself was a Milton man. Once he was restored to financial prosperity, he found himself yearning for the kind of companionship he had found with Mr Hale, and could not find in Milton. This, together with an impending increase to his family, settled the matter.

He removed his family out of Milton proper, and, concerned about a possible interruption to the American cotton supply, set about diversifying his business interests. Margaret found that there were many places to live in the North, where a man might be near his business and yet not live in town. Margaret and John rapidly increased the number of their friends and their financial prosperity. John Thornton’s reputation as a manufacturer, and businessman grew to such an extent that he was regularly called upon to give his advice and assistance to the great in the land. Their acquaintances say it is now a distinct possibility, despite Mr Thornton’s denials, that he might be induced to take a seat in Parliament.  

Due to the distance between England and Spain, Margaret and John were always on the friendliest of terms with Fred. Margaret continued to love him dearly, and, when Mr Thornton thought of Fred Hale, he thought him a really good sort of fellow. Fred advanced in his employment around the same time that the mill’s success was secured. Consequently, it became within their power to make yearly trips to Paris, where John could conduct business and Margaret could spend several weeks with Fred. Margaret and John rejoiced to see Fred’s prosperity, for, after several blissfully happy years of married life, they could laugh at what had happened, and concede that although Fred had caused them so much trouble, he had also ultimately been the means of uniting them.