The London break proved to be a very good idea indeed. Being back in the house where she had spent so many happy years, being surrounded by people who understood her and did not judge her restored Margaret's spirits considerably.
Edith and Aunt Shaw fussed over her and Margaret happily submitted herself to them without much protest, except when it came to Henry Lennox. Edith was still determined to see them married and found every available opportunity to throw them together. Margaret tolerated it as best as she could and successfully avoided having to spend time alone with Henry. But Henry always managed to contrive private moments and conversations between them even when they were not alone.
Avoiding Henry was what Margaret had been doing when she quietly disengaged from the group and went off by herself during their visit to the Crystal Palace. Henry had already been to the exhibition and had taken it upon himself to be Margaret's guide. Margaret just wanted to look at the exhibits without a constant stream of droll remarks. So she had escaped.
She was going from one stall to the other, admiring the displays, happy to be by herself, when she thought she heard an achingly familiar voice. Margaret allowed herself to be led by the pull of the deep, velvety voice and found Mr Thornton at the end of her trail.
"Technologically, we are the envy of the world. If only there was a mechanism that allowed us all to live together peaceably, to take advantage of the great benefits that come from industry. But that will be for future generations. We can bring back marmosets from Mozambique but we cannot stop man from behaving as he always has."
As his eyes swept over his audience, they were startled to find Margaret among them.
Someone asked him a question and more people joined the group, creating a human wall between them. Margaret quietly withdrew as she could no longer see him amid the growing throng.
Fate or free-will? Margaret wondered. Or both, as Papa had insisted.
Margaret walked, not quite caring where she was going; she occasionally stopped here and there but she found herself unable to pay any attention to any of the exhibits. She should have at least greeted him or acknowledged him, she chided herself. But she wasn't sure what mood he was likely to be in; besides, he was surrounded by people, she reasoned to herself. Finally stopping, Margaret looked at the exhibit in front of her. It was a loom—at least a type of loom. Mr Thornton would know about it, she thought as she looked at the display board for a name and description.
"It's a double-action Jacquard loom."
Margaret immediately turned around and found him standing behind her. He stood there, looking at her, waiting for her say something—giving her the opportunity to decide how this chance encounter would go.
"And what is unique about this loom?" she asked tentatively.
"It speeds up the weaving process by applying more power," he said and stood next to her. "Do you see those two cylinders there?"
When Margaret nodded, he continued, "Single-lift machine have just one cylinder. Those metal bars inclined in opposite directions—they are called griffs. Each griff is attached to a cylinder and each griff controls the motion of a set of hooks that moves the needle and threads. But with the double cylinder arrangement, there are double the number of hooks than would be in a single-lift machine. So one cylinder acts on one set of hooks on one pick and the other cylinder acts on the other set of hooks on the next pick. The cards for each cylinder are also cut in a suitable manner for each pick."
"What do the cards do?" Margaret asked completely engrossed and curious.
"They indicate the weave pattern. See how they are laced together. Each card corresponds to a row of the design. The hooks and needles go through the holes in the card."
Thornton looked at Margaret to see how much of all this was making sense to her. She was looking at the loom intently.
"But you don't think this design is successful," she said.
Thornton wondered how she had guessed that.
"That's right. Given the speed, it is highly likely that one of the cylinders will get ahead of the other. If that happens, the card would be skipped and the weave pattern would be ruined," he explained.
"And if the weave is of poor quality, it wouldn't matter how quickly it was made," Margaret finished.
They looked at each other, both relieved that they'd finally managed a conversation without any misunderstanding, without being at cross-purposes. It didn't matter that it had been about the working of a loom. Thornton was about to ask her what made her suspect that he did not think the design was successful when he heard someone call her.
"Margaret!" Henry ambled over. "What on earth are you doing in this section?"
Thornton was faced with a well-dressed, handsome young man, who called Margaret by her first name and stood close to her in a rather familiar way.
"Henry!" Margaret turned as well. Thornton felt as though he had been punched in the gut when he heard Margaret call the stranger by his name as well.
Thornton and Henry looked at each other, sizing each other up. Margaret felt all the awkwardness of the situation.
"This is Mr Thornton. He is a friend of Papa's," Margaret said.
"All the way from Milton?" Henry asked.
Thornton didn't even bother with a response.
"Where is my aunt? And Edith?" Margaret asked, not wanting Mr Thornton to think that she had come alone with Henry.
"Edith sent me to find you. I must say I searched for you the world over only to find you amongst machines," Henry looked around with a superior, bored expression.
"They are quite fascinating actually," Margaret bristled.
"Well, if you insist," Henry said with a smile, leaning slightly towards her.
"I must go," Thornton said and walked away.
"No, wait!" Margaret went after him. She wanted to tell him that there was nothing between her and Henry but she didn't know how to say it.
"How is Papa?" she asked trying to keep him from going away.
"He is well."
"You must tell Mr Hale how the London break is suiting Margaret." Henry had once again joined them. Henry instinctively knew that it would not be a good idea to leave Margaret alone with Thornton.
"Don't you think so, Thornton?" Henry asked, feeling the need to show a superior claim over her.
Thornton drew up to his full height and turned the full intensity of his stare on Henry.
"Doesn't Margaret look well?" Henry continued.
"She always looks well," Thornton said perfectly calm.
Thornton had gone straight for the jugular and Henry for the first time in his adult life found himself without a reply. He understood belatedly that Thornton was not a man to provoke needlessly.
"Margaret!" another familiar voice called out.
It was Fanny and Margaret was never so happy to see anyone in her life. The open hostility between the two men was starting to get unbearable.
"How wonderful to see you here! You have come to London at last!" Margaret said.
"Yes. Mama agreed to it only because John was coming," Fanny said and then looked quizzically at Henry.
"This is Mr Lennox. He is my cousin's brother-in-law," Margaret said.
"Oh, there they are." Edith and Aunt Shaw joined them as well.
"Goodness, Margaret! We looked all over for you," Edith said.
"Aunt Shaw, Edith, this is Mr Thornton and Miss Thornton," Margaret introduced them.
"Are you enjoying your time in London?" Edith asked Fanny.
"Very much. Now that John has completed all his work, I have his full permission to drag him anywhere," Fanny said.
"Then we had better leave," Thornton said. As much as he wanted to be near Margaret, he had no desire to see her with another man.
"But we just met Margaret!" Fanny protested.
"Why don't you join us for tea this afternoon?" Edith asked Fanny. "I know you are a great friend of Margaret's and any friend of hers is a friend of mine."
"I will send the carriage to collect you," Thornton said to Fanny and once again turned to go.
"Will you not join us?" Margaret asked stopping him. She couldn't let him go away thinking that Henry had any hold over her. She couldn't bear what he would think of her.
Thornton looked at her, trying to understand her reason. She must know this wasn't easy for him.
"Please," she said quietly.
Thornton glanced at Henry, who looked very much like Thornton couldn't leave soon enough. He returned his gaze to Margaret. She had already broken his heart; he could only hope she would not be cruel enough to do it again. Thornton relented with a nod.
Since it was already afternoon, the company decided to go home straight from the exhibition. While they waited for the carriages, Thornton studied Margaret and Henry. They were standing with her aunt and from Margaret's manner it looked like she was trying to put as much distance between her and Henry.
"Your father's friend? What does he do?" Aunt Shaw asked.
"He owns a cotton mill."
"A manufacturer?" Aunt Shaw was surprised. "Well, his sister looks like a nice young lady."
"I assure you 'manufacturers' are no different from us. He and his family have been very kind to us. Please don't fall into the same prejudice as I did," Margaret entreated her aunt.
"I would have hardly thought a manufacturer would appreciate a show like this," Henry said.
"You are wrong. He is very knowledgeable and very interested in the world," Margaret said. She wondered if Henry would be able to tell her the intricacies of Law if she asked him. Would he be able to convey any of his enthusiasm or passion for a subject? Did he even feel any enthusiasm or passion for a subject other than himself? She had been annoyed by his droll but dismissive comments about almost everything that they had seen at the exhibition. He thought himself too superior to show admiration for anything.
Henry was looking at her sceptically.
"Really, I know him to be." Margaret ground out.
When they reach the house, Aunt Shaw politely excused herself. She was tired after all the walking and excitement at the Exhibition and needed to rest and left Edith, Henry, Fanny, Thornton and Margaret to enjoy the afternoon tea.
"How do you take your tea, Mr Thornton?" Edith asked as she began handing out the cups.
"Cream. No sugar," Margaret said automatically before realising what she had done.
"Oh," Edith looked at Margaret with an arched eyebrow.
A meaningful silence fell on the gathering. Henry clenched his jaw. Fanny suppressed a smile. Margaret studied the teapot. And Thornton looked at Margaret in honest surprise.
Edith poured out the tea, added a dash of cream, no sugar and handed it to Thornton. She then looked at Fanny.
"Lots of sugar, please," Fanny grinned and Edith immediately saw in Fanny a sister who was going to make a case for her brother. Very well then, Edith had already had a head start.
"You have such a lovely piano. Do you play?" Fanny asked.
"Yes. Captain Lennox agreed to order one for me at Bath. I believe music is one of the necessities of life," Edith said.
"I completely agree. Now if only Margaret were musically inclined," Fanny complained.
"Well, Margaret likes to draw. She is quite accomplished," Edith said coming to Margret's defence.
"Really? You never told me. What do you draw?" Fanny asked Margaret.
"Portraits," Edith answered. "She has drawn everyone in the family. She is quite brilliant," Edith gushed.
Margaret didn't quite like where the conversation was going and she had a real fear that either Edith or Fanny was about to say something very awkward. Margaret's nervousness was not lost on Thornton and he knew exactly why.
"Didn't Margaret draw a portrait of you, Henry?" Edith asked smiling at Henry, knowing fully well that it was true. She had been there when Margaret drew it.
Margaret saw that Thornton had stiffened. She wanted to strangle Edith for so shamelessly suggesting an attachment where none existed. As if Henry wasn't doing a marvellous job of it by himself.
"Well then, you should draw John!" Fanny said not to be outdone. "I would like to ask you to draw me but I already have a portrait!"
Margaret wished the earth to swallow her.
"I— I… I mean it will—it will take a lot of time. I am sure Mr Thornton would be too busy to spare so much time," Margaret tried her best to appear nonchalant.
"But I am sure John—" Fanny began.
"Fanny. Miss Hale is right. I wouldn't have the time for it," Thornton interrupted her. And because he wasn't entirely a saint, "Besides, she might need plenty of practice drawing a new face."
The memory of her sketchbook and how she had indeed practised drawing his features came flooded back to her. Margaret was quite sure she had turned a flaming red. Thornton thoroughly enjoyed her discomfort and continued sipping his tea with the nonchalance that had eluded Margaret.
"Well, it only took you an hour to do mine," Henry said somewhat smugly.
"That's because you have an easy face to draw," Margaret said and got up.
Henry wasn't sure from Margaret's tone if it was a compliment or a put-down. But Thornton knew that tone of voice; Margaret used it when she wanted to dismiss someone. He smiled; one ought to take one's pleasure where one can.
Margaret stood by the window pretending to study the flowers, but in truth, she was trying to regain her composure. Fanny joined her.
"Margaret, how about we spend tomorrow together? You promised me to take me to your modiste, remember? And maybe we can visit some of the parks?" Fanny asked.
"Certainly! Fanny, do you mind if I ask you to come with me to visit Dixon tomorrow? Do you remember, I mentioned her to you once."
"Your mother's maid?"
"She is more than just my mother's maid. I haven't been able to visit her in all the time I have been in London. Aunt Shaw doesn't get along with her and so Edith won't go with me."
"Of course! It's done then. Let's go back. Poor John is outnumbered."
The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Edith and Fanny talked and Margaret provided the mediating comment. Thornton and Henry did not exchange a word.
After they left, Margaret went to her room to reflect on the day's events. Who would have thought that she would run into him at the Great Exhibition! Even though Henry had tried his best to—
"Cream. No sugar?" Edith stormed into Margaret's room and shut the door.
"What?" Margaret looked at Edith in surprise.
"How do you know how he takes his tea? Why do you know how he takes his tea?" Edith glared at her.
"He comes to read with Papa and I have served him tea more times than I can count."
"Really? How does Henry take his tea? You have made him tea plenty of times," Edith crossed her arms and waited for an answer.
Unfortunately, for Margaret, she did not remember or even know. The truth was she wasn't even aware that she knew how Mr Thornton liked his tea. It's just that at some point she had noticed that whenever he got himself a cup he never put any sugar and so she too had stopped adding sugar to his cup without thinking very much about it. She had been just as surprised as everyone when the answer rolled out of her tongue so readily.
"Well?" Edith was still waiting for an answer.
"Come now, Edith. What a tempest in a teapot."
"Oh no, you are not distracting me. You wrote to me that Mr Thornton was entirely unpleasant and ill-tempered and that you wished to never see him again."
"I was wrong. I misjudged him initially."
"And you didn't tell me that he was… that he is… Heavens, Margaret! From the way you described him, I thought he was a horrible, thoroughly disagreeable tradesman. I kept wondering if the Mr Thornton you had written about was his father. It took me nearly an hour to figure out that there is no other Mr Thornton and that Mr Thornton is the Mr Thornton who is in my drawing room. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"That he looks like that! That he is young! That he dotes on his little sister!"
Margaret was about to tell her that it was because she feared an outburst of exactly this nature that she did not tell her more about Mr Thornton. But Edith could not be stopped.
"And why was his sister trying to get the two of you to spend time together? Don't think I didn't notice that."
"Really Edith, that's rich coming from you."
"It's because I think you and Henry would be perfect."
"No Edith, it would be perfect for you. But I don't care for Henry and you can't make me care for him just because you prefer it," Margaret was glad to be able to finally say it to Edith.
"Oh!" Edith sat down on the bed deflated.
"I am sorry. But please understand." Margaret went to sit by Edith.
"Is there no chance that you might feel differently about Henry?" Edith asked.
"None. Absolutely none."
"And what about Mr Thornton?"
"What about him?"
"Margaret!" Edith warned.
"He is a good friend of Papa's and his sister is a good friend of mine. That's all."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
Thornton and Fanny were having a similar conversation in their carriage.
"What?" Fanny asked after Thornton had stared at her for a good part of the ride.
"Don't think that I don't know what you were trying to do back there."
"What was I trying to do?"
"Fanny," Thornton warned.
"Well, why not?"
"Because no good will come out of it. And if you must know she refused me."
"But she could always change her mind," Fanny argued.
"Does Miss Hale strike you as someone who would change her mind?"
"But John—"
"Fanny. No," Thornton looked out of his window, signalling the end of the conversation.
Fanny grumbled to herself and crossed her arms.
If he thought he could tell her what to do, he had another think coming, Fanny thought and stubbornly set her jaw.