As Anne Latimer entered the church on Sunday on the arm of her new fiancée, her eyes roamed the pews for signs of interest from the congregation. She was gratified to witness ladies hastily whisper in each other's ears and subtly indicate in the direction of the woman who would soon be married to the Mayor's son; a man who also one of the richest and most eligible bachelors in this industrial northern town.

As Anne continued surveying the crowd her eyes settled on the Thornton party. Now that her engagement to Edward was public and her fiancée returned from his country shooting party, Anne was relieved that she would no longer have to sit listening to the inane chatter of Fanny Thornton as she prattled on an on about her own upcoming nuptials. Although it was frightfully irritating that such a girl would be married before herself, it did give her the opportunity to ensure that her own wedding was by far more splendid – and sure to be talked about long after Fanny's inferior affair.

As she studied the Thornton pew, she was surprised to discover the young lady sitting on the end was not Fanny. Glancing around again, Anne spotted the blonde curls of Miss Thornton sitting with The Watsons. Intrigued, all of Anne's attention returned to the other side of the room to identify the mystery woman. Rotating slowly to the left and sitting forward slightly to gain a better view, Anne waited, hoping the lady would reveal her face. She was rewarded for her perseverance when soon after Miss Hale turned to speak to the elder gentleman beside her. Anne smiled to herself. This was an interesting development indeed. The Hales and the Thorntons. Perhaps she had not given the irritatingly pious girl enough credit. Maybe she was more ambitious than she first appeared?

As the Reverend commenced the service and they all stood to sing the first Hymn, John Thornton was visible above the heads of the other men and women. Other than for the fact that he was Fanny's brother, Anne had never given him much thought. On the few occasions she had met him in London, he had always seemed so severe, so serious. Today though he appeared almost light-hearted. A smile danced on his lips as he sang. He was certainly a handsome man. Why had she never noticed that before? Glancing sideways at Edward she could not help but contrast them. Edward was not plain, but his features were not quite as chiselled as the mill owner, nor his hair as dark. Mr Thornton's skin glowed with a natural tan whereas Edward was more pale and chalky – even despite his recent spell outdoors. Edward had an aristocratic appearance, whereas there was something undeniably earthy and masculine about Mr Thornton.

Miss Hale and Mr Thornton. Anne would ask Fanny what she knew of it after church.


Margaret slowly filed out of the church on her father's arm. Mr Hale had been surprised but honoured when he received a note from John inviting he and Margaret to sit with the Thorntons in church today. Margaret longed to speak with her father about her newfound love and understanding with John, but they had decided it was best left until after the fuss and distraction of Fanny's wedding.

She and John had seen each other only once since their walk: John called at Crampton on Thursday night on a contrived errand to return a book he had borrowed from her father. He had stopped to take tea with them, and but for a few stolen glances and smiles when her father was otherwise distracted, they had shared little intimacy since.

When in his presence, Margaret found herself having to resist an overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him. She felt bereft of his arms and his warmth. Even today as she sat beside her father, she found herself longing to be next to John. This new physical bond was still so unnerving to Margaret in its intensity.

It was not so cold today outdoors. Many of the congregation gathered outside to discuss the sermon and exchange pleasantries. John and his mother were swiftly engaged in conversation with The Watsons, so Mr Hale – hoping to find some more students - took the opportunity to speak with a new family in town who had six sons. Margaret decided to wait by the church for her group to return.

Feeling secure that she would go undiscovered, Margaret took some time to watch her beloved as he moved about the gathering. Always courteous and amiable in conversation, Margaret observed with a new found pride just how sought after he was – particularly by her father's generation. It was not surprising though. Very few people – young or old – made as much sense as he did. She laughed to herself. She could see that although he was attentive to those that occupied him, his eyes would occasionally wonder as if looking out for something or someone. Her heart was overjoyed by the notion that it was she that occupied his thoughts.

Delighting in her musings, Margaret was startled by a man clearing his thoughts to gain her attention. She turned to find Reverend Hughes standing beside her. 'I'm sorry Reverend Hughes, my mind was a long way away. Do excuse me.'

'No, that is quite all right Miss Hale. I am sorry to interrupt your reverie, but I wondered if I might have a word with you.'

Margaret nodded, curious that he should wish to address her on her own.

'My wife has spoken so highly of you, and indeed many of the ladies in the church committee also hold you in the highest regard.'

'Thank you Reverend, that is so nice of you to say.'

'As a Christian man who has committed his life to serving others, I too must commend the work that you have been doing with the infant school. I am sure your good deeds have touched the lives of many people already.'

Margaret smiled politely, still wondering where this exchange was heading.

'But as a Christian man, I must not sit idly by when the naivety of good intentions lead to unanticipated consequences and transgressions. '

'I beg your pardon sir?' She had been correct in her instinct to be wary of him.

'My wife has informed me that you plan to persuade the ladies committee to hold a bazaar in our very own town.' His tone was becoming critical.

'Yes it is true. I have mentioned to the ladies that it may be a suitable means to raise funds for our charitable endeavours in the future.'

The Reverend now stood quite close to Margaret. 'You are young and inexperienced so I can forgive this lapse in judgement. But I urge you to give up this wicked idea. No good can come of it.'

Margaret could feel her anger rising at his wilful ignorance. 'How sir?'

The Reverend straightened to his full height leaning over her slightly. 'In my experience these goings-on have the tendency of loosening social and gender restraint. They incite impulses that are in direct contradiction to every good and wholesome undertaking. They undermine the fabric of society.'

'I'm sorry Reverend?' Margaret could see foam building up on the sides of his lips as he became more excited by the topic.

'I think you understand my meaning Miss Hale. The very idea of ladies exposing themselves in such a public manner is vulgar. To imagine, young women like yourself wantonly approaching men with your wares. And in turn those men, good men, reduced to a state of excited intemperance by such untamed frivolity, unable to conquer even their most hidden base instincts. Luridly inspecting more than just the goods for sale on the stall.'

'I think you are being melodramatic Reverend.' Margaret was stunned by his narrow- mindedness.

The Reverend shook his fist. 'It should not be! Even the name 'bazaar' suggests something wild and uncontrolled. These events promote the devil's will and those organising them are doing his work for him.' Checking his emotion, the old parson continued, 'But I admit it is not just this that I have had misgivings about Miss Hale. I must confess that I have long held reservations about a maiden such as yourself, parading around town…'

'If the girl's father is not concerned by it, why should you be?'

Margaret looked past the Reverend to discover the identity of her rescuer. It was from an entirely unexpected source.

The Reverend also turned around. 'Mrs Thornton, I was just telling Miss Hale that..'

Mrs Thornton was unmistakeably livid. 'I heard what you said Reverend. "The devil's work." What nonsense. Perhaps your time would be better spent improving the tone of your own mind rather than preaching to those who are clearly your moral superior. '

The clergyman was visibly flustered by Mrs Thorntons reproach.

'Miss Hale is breathing new life into a tired community which has become altogether too neglectful of its Christian duties. She is only guilty of raising the thoughts of others to a state of higher existence, beyond their own petty troubles.' Mrs Thornton now stood beside Margaret. 'If you cannot see that sir, then perhaps we need new spiritual direction in our church.'

Margaret didn't know what to say. Neither, by all accounts, did Reverend Hughes.

'Come Margaret,' said Mrs Thornton. 'Let us leave Reverend Hughes to contemplate his own flawed assertions. We don't want to keep John waiting.'