CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
The next morning, the day after the wedding, a subdued trio sat at the breakfast table together at Marlboro Mills. The mood was quiet and somber rather than joyous.
Thornton was seated directly across from Margaret, on Hannah's right side, but she might as well be on the other side of the world. He glanced at her furtively while he cut the meat on his plate, silently urging her to look up at him. She focused her attention instead on the food on her plate. When she did happen to glance up her eyes seemed to glide over him rather than meeting his gaze. She was silent and kept to herself, as distant as a passing cloud.
Why? he wanted to ask her. His mind replayed the events of the evening before. He had as good as told her that he loved her, only her, when she suddenly stepped back and away. He would have sworn that she was responding to him, that she was on the verge of returning his affection. Was she embarrassed by what had passed between them? Had she been carried away by the romantic atmosphere, the music and the dancing? Or perhaps she had suddenly remembered her lover in Spain, the one he hoped had no further claim on her heart. Whatever the reason, that one moment between them was now gone. He yearned to know if it would ever come back.
Had it been only hours ago when he held her in his arms as they waltzed together, just the two of them alone in the room? He had not intended to take advantage of the moment by pulling her close to him, but she had been so sweetly yielding, so wondrously trusting as she rested her head against his chest. The moments when the music was silent and she stayed in his arms, when he thought she must truly care for him, had been the sweetest in his life. He wished he could save them forever.
Those few moments might have to last him the rest of his life.
Margaret, too, could not stop thinking about the events of the day before. She pushed food across the surface of her plate while she avoided Thornton's eyes as much as possible, afraid of what she might see in his face.
She had thrilled to her husband's touch when they danced together in the empty room. She could still recall the heady sensation of the two of them circling each other in the small space, brought closer and closer together by the strains of the music until finally he was holding her against him. She could still feel his arm around her shoulder, her cheek nestled against his chest, ensconced in his warmth and tenderness. In that moment she had been suffused with happiness, astonished to realize that his affection for her had never died.
It had seemed like the right time, then, to ask him about his feelings for her, to have him confirm what she finally dared to hope: that his affection for her was abiding and deep. To hear instead that he had, in fact, loved someone else was a soul crushing moment.
Now she felt both sorrow and shame. Sorrow, that she had not realized earlier the depths of her feelings for Thornton. And shame, that they were both now locked in a marriage they should not have entered.
"Margaret, you did well yesterday, meeting so many new people in such a short time." Hannah's voice spoke into the silence, jarring both of the others from their thoughts. "I trust you are not too tired today."
"Not too tired." She forced herself to take a bite of her toast, trying to behave as normally as possible.
"Was everyone kind to you? Were all the people polite? I thought I detected a note of jealousy now and then, from some of the older ladies."
"Jealousy?"
"The matrons are not always welcoming towards outsiders, especially those who make fine marriages among the leaders here. You must tell me if there were any unkind comments."
Margaret wiped her mouth with her napkin before answering. "Everyone was pleasant enough." She could feel Thornton's eyes on her, boring into her, but she would not look up.
Hannah turned to her son. "I saw you speaking with the other masters last night. Was there much discussion of business?"
Thornton grimaced. For one day, at least, he had not had to think about the mill's continued financial straits. "Not very much. It was not an appropriate venue for money matters, you know."
"I suppose not. I was just wondering if the other mills are facing the same difficulties we are."
"Some are, especially the others that invested in new equipment. The strike hit us all hard." Thornton wished his mother had not raised the topic. He hated to think of causing distress for either her or Margaret. "At least I was able to meet our loan this month."
"Even with the expenses of Fanny's wedding?"
"Even so." Thornton's voice held quiet relief and pride. He was thankful he had been able to protect the livelihoods of everyone who worked for him, especially Nicholas Higgins.
"What about next month?" Hannah asked, narrowing her eyes shrewdly. "Will you make the payment then?"
"Time will tell. We have to be hopeful."
"You have banked with Latimer for years. He ought to be willing to make allowances for you."
"He has to answer to the underwriters, and I am only one of his customers. There is no reason for him to show me any particular favor."
At that very moment Margaret choked on her tea, coughing and gasping in an embarrassing display. She clutched her napkin over her mouth, hoping she could avoid anything worse.
"Margaret, are you all right?" Hannah exclaimed. Margaret managed to nod, the napkin still over her mouth, but she was not able to speak. She could not escape the thought that if Thornton had married Ann Latimer his business might not be in danger right now.
Hannah looked at her son, expecting him to echo her concern, but he remained silent. He watched Margaret without speaking, keeping his distance from her.
"I beg your pardon." Margaret was finally able to speak, still dabbing at her mouth. "The tea must have been too hot."
"No need to be embarrassed," Hannah answered, wondering at her agitation. She looked at her son again, expecting him to affirm her statement, but he merely removed his timepiece from his pocket and examined it closely, as if he needed to be at work right away.
Hannah sighed in frustration. She had known since last night, by the awkward silences between her son and his wife, that something was wrong between them. But it was not her place to interfere in their marriage, if that's what their relationship could indeed be called. She wondered again if they would ever be able to overcome the barriers between them and establish the true bond they both needed.
The short meal appeared to be over. Thornton was already pushing his chair back, beginning to stand, as Margaret started to gather the dishes together. Hannah realized that they were anxious to be out of each other's company. But they were about to get quite a surprise.
"Before you leave the table, there is something I need to tell you."
"Will this take long, mother? I have a great deal to do today." Thornton glanced impatiently at the clock.
"There are some things you need to make time for, John." Something in Hannah's voice caught Thornton's attention and he slowly sank down into his chair again. Margaret, too, ceased her actions and looked at Hannah with a puzzled expression. Hannah waited until she had their full attention before speaking.
"I have made a decision. Today is my last day at Marlboro Mills. I am moving into Fanny and Watson's house while they are on their wedding tour."
The other two stared. "Are you serious, mother?" Thornton finally asked.
"Decidedly so."
"But why?"
"Watson was a bachelor too long, and his house shows it. Fanny and I discussed it before she left. The pantry is all wrong, and the dust in the parlor is thick enough to write your name in. The duvets must all be replaced. And the servants! The servants are the worst of all. They have not known the supervision of a real mistress in years. They want setting to rights before Fanny comes back from her wedding tour."
Margaret recovered her power of speech. "Will you come back after Fanny returns, or will you live there permanently?"
"That depends on how things go," Hannah answered, rather cryptically. "I shall take Jane with me, of course. Dixon will stay here with you. And I shall need your help today, Margaret, packing up my belongings. I hope you do not object."
Poor Margaret could not decide whether to object or not. She had grown rather to depend on Hannah's presence in the house, acting as a lightning rod whenever matters grew too intense between her and Thornton. Besides, with only the two of them living in the house, people would assume that they were truly a married couple. Of course they undoubtedly assumed such a thing already, having no reason to believe otherwise. Margaret's cheeks flamed at the thought, and she did not answer Hannah. Instead she took up the dishes she had gathered and fairly fled into the kitchen.
Thornton confronted his mother suspiciously, his arms across his chest. He knew as well as she did how flimsy her excuse was. "What is this all about, mother? What game are you playing at?"
"There is no game, son." Hannah moved towards the hallway, preparing to go up to her room and start packing her things.
"Then what are you about?"
"I am trying to make you and Margaret speak to each other. If I am not here you and Margaret will have to give up your pretense of indifference. You will not be able to use me in order to avoid each other. If you're going to be a married couple, then you need to start acting like one!"
"We are not avoiding each other!"
"I am glad to hear it. Then you will have no problem talking to each other when I am gone."
Will Hannah's idea work or will it back fire? What will it take to bring our stubborn couple together? I promise, they will get a happy ever after . . . someday! In the meantime thanks for all your wonderful comments and feedback. I'll post again in two weeks, as usual. Gallia, you and your pacemaker make me laugh! Please send me an email at elaineowen at writeme dot com. I might have something special for you! And everyone, please have a wonderful weekend! -Elaine