These will a series of little one shots that will be aimed at pure fluff and random moments. I appreciate the seriousness and the angst of the series, but a few happy moments would not go amiss. Even if they are a bit OOC. I do take requests, I seem to do better with a challenge. First N&S fic, it shall take some practice to get the feel of it.
John Thornton tiredly undid the tight neckcloth that seemed to be stifling him in the heavy air as he leaned against a bale of raw cotton in the open yard.
With one shift over and another beginning, he had not eaten since that morning and now eyed the fairly new kitchen with a considering eye. A large crowd had already started their way in that direction, many pulling along their children for an evening meal.
It was a far sight different from a year ago. There had been no smiling faces then, no skip in the children's step as they left the workroom.
He still ran a business though, not a charity, and it was with this consideration that he had allowed Higgins to draw up the plans. If it eventually paid for itself, and the workers were happy, then it was keen business sense to allow it. If the other masters now scoffed at his supposed softness, he no longer allowed it to bother him.
John's eyes flitted up to the window of his sitting room and gave a small private grin to his wife, who yawned tiredly and gave him a sweet smile in return. Her hands went to rest on the growing curve of her belly.
She tired easily now, and despite her feeble protests that she had the energy to come out to the floor, she was often found napping on their bed or the sitting room settee, waiting for his return.
Margaret was a face that was easily missed around the mill, for hers was a positive sort of energy that almost never failed to bring a smile to most faces. It was known though not overly discussed that the young miss had given the master her hand and the fortune that came with it. In a way, she was their salvation as much as the master's.
John smiled again and tilted his head in slight chastisement as he gazed at her leaning against the windowpane. She playfully rolled her eyes, and gave a small wave of her hand as she disappeared from view.
More than one worker had seen the small exchange, more than delighted that the mistress seemed to soften the rough edges of the Master of Marlborough Mills. Even on his best days, he had not always been overly personable.
Nicholas Higgins had smiled fondly at the couple during their brief interlude and now approached John with little Tommy Boucher in hand. The young lad looked upon the master with a serious mien as he clutched a well loved reader to his chest. John stood and nodded genially to Nicholas before offering Tommy a gentle smile.
Tommy ducked his head but tentatively offered John a small hand as they walked towards the kitchen. John held the delicate hand in his much larger one and marveled at its size. Tommy held up the book proudly for John's inspection who asked gently, "Was this a gift from Margaret?"
The little lad smiled bashfully and nodded, his eyes flitting to the same sitting room window. John turned and the curtains stirred ever so slightly. His countenance softened before he looked back down at Tommy, "Perhaps you can show me how far ye've gotten after supper then?"
Tommy gave a rare grin and almost dragged John to the kitchen door, Nicholas following at a more sedate pace with no small amount of chuckling.