Sooo...I'm afraid this chapter has turned out pretty short, as it is more or less a little filler, setting up some things for what's to come. But I can promise you that the next chapters will not only be longer, but there will be some good stuff, as we will move this relationship forward quite a bit from here ;)

By way of apology for the brevity of this chapter, I'll give you something to ponder until the next update: Check out the notes at the end of the chapter for some information on the real John Thornton.

Chapter 6

On the following evening, ten minutes before eight o clock, hundreds of mill workers throughout Milton stopped their machines and marched out of the cotton mills in silent unison. The strike had begun.

On the next morning, Margaret woke to a Milton which had transformed completely within the few hours of the night. It was quiet – for the first time since she had come here, there was no distant hammering and screeching to be heard. She had gotten so used to these noises that it now felt like something was missing.

As she peered out of the window, she saw the sky. It was not as clear and blue as it had been in Helstone, but the dusty, grey clouds of smoke which usually hovered above the city had gone. Hundreds of large brick chimneys towered above the roofs but there was no smoke. Even on Sundays such a thing had never occured, the boilers of the mills never turning off entirely for only one day of the week.

When she had arrived here, Margaret would have given anything for one day without noise and smoke. But now, as she stepped out onto the street, carrying a small basket to fetch some groceries from the nearby market, this change filled her with a sense of unease. Higgins and Boucher and all the other workers would now be dependent on the strike fund.

How long would they be able to hold up? Would the masters bow to the worker's conditions? They most certainly would not, Margaret thought. So, what would happen? Would the people of Milton just starve? How long could the mills go without workers, until they were running into serious financial troubles? And what then?

Margaret silently cursed herself for not having paid more attention to the talk her father and Mr. Thornton had had over dinner that night, two weeks ago. If she had, she might have learnt more about all of this, but she had been so determined to not even consider the mill master's view on things, that she had deliberately focused her attention away from what he had been saying.

Margaret's day was brightened, when in the afternoon, Ann Latimer called. The two young women took tea together in the sitting room, talking and laughing and enjoying some biscuits Dixon had brought in. Ann told Margaret of her time in Switzerland and her travels to France and Margaret, in turn, recounted some stories from Helstone and London.

"London certainly offers many more diversions than Milton does", Ann sighed. "Even though our concerts and theatre plays here are of fair quality, it is always rather crowded. I would much rather live in London, but I think my mother would prefer me to stay in Milton. She is fond of my company, you see, and keeps telling me how happy she is that I have come back. As for my father – " Ann breathed a sigh, "He wants to see me married rather sooner than later. Since I have been back, he has introduced me to many a gentleman, dragging me to countless social event with his purpose in mind."

Ann rolled her eyes and gave Margaret a wry smile. "You do not wish to marry?", Margaret asked carefully. "Oh, I certainly do. But I would like to marry someone I care for. Someone I can respect, not a man my father considers a good match based solely on his wealth and status. Now father has set his eyes on John Thornton and he keeps trying to get him to notice me", Ann chuckled.

Margaret raised her eyebrows at that. "Mr. Thornton?", she exclaimed. She could not imagine a man who would be less suitable for a young girl as lively and cheerful as Ann. Her spirits would wither away in a place like Marlborough mills, not to mention being confronted with that constant frown Thornton always wore and his unhealthy obsession with Richard Arkwright's machines.

"I know, I can't imagine marrying him either", Ann stated plainly. "I mean, yes, he is quite good looking", she admitted. "But he seems so distant and tense all the time. Like there's always something unpleasant on his mind. My father has been his banker for years, so he has dined with us on various occasions, but he rarely speaks of anything but his business. Sometimes I wonder if he grants himself any leisure time at all."

Ann took a sip of her tea and traced her finger along the cup thoughtfully. "I wonder if he ever gets lonely, all by himself in that big, dark mill house", she pondered. "Does he not have any family?", Margaret asked. "Oh no. I think they all died a long time ago. I don't know the details, but my father mentioned that it must have been some rather unpleasant affair. I wonder if that's why he always looks so severe. I swear, I have not seen him smile even once in my life. Not truly." "I doubt he makes for pleasant company", Margaret agreed.

They were interrupted by a coughing sound, coming from the other room. Margaret turned her head towards it worriedly. "That's my mother, she has not been feeling well as of late." "Oh, I'm terribly sorry to hear that. I'm sure you must go to her and see if she needs anything. I will detain you no longer, it has been a great pleasure talking to you."

As they got up Ann exclaimed: "Oh, before I go, I forgot to tell you, my father is giving a ball on the 15th of next month, and I insist you must come. All of Milton society will be there and we will have a splendid time. I will make sure to send an invitation to your family."

Having agreed to attend the ball, Margaret said her goodbyes to Ann and rushed into her mother's room.

A few days later Margaret walked out of the small grocery shop near Crampton, carrying a basket full of fruit. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her mother. Mrs Hale had not yet recovered from her latest streak of weakness. Her face was ashen and more often than not she was too tired to rise from her chair.

Margaret was beginning to seriously worry about her. She knew that her mother loved fresh fruit and hoped that by bringing an assortment of her favourites, she could maybe raise the older woman's spirits. As she was walking, engrossed in her worries, she suddenly came face to chest with a man, stopping only a few inches from colliding with him full force.

Margaret jumped back, startled, and felt her stomach drop as she recognized none other than Mr. Thornton. He looked as surprised as she felt, but quickly recovered himself, tipping his hat at her.

"Miss Hale, I must apologize. I was absorbed in my thoughts and paid no attention as to where I was going." He was all politeness, nothing in his voice or manner suggested that he held any grudges against her for her behaviour during their last encounter. Margaret was glad of it.

"I trust you are well?" he continued, looking at her. "I thank you", she replied, finding her voice. "I was just out buying some fruit for my mother. She has been of very low spirits as of late and I was hoping it would make her feel better." "I'm sorry to hear that she is unwell", he replied with a tinge of concern in his voice. "If there is any way I can be of some assistance to her, please let me know."

An idea struck Margaret. "Indeed, there is something you could help me with", she said. "Would you maybe be so kind as to name me the address of the doctor you sent over to us after I had sprained my ankle? I think it would be best to have a doctor at hand, just in case my mother gets any worse." He nodded solemnly. "Of course, Miss Hale. I will send an errand boy with the address over to Crampton as soon as I get back to Marlborough mills."

She gave him a small, grateful smile. "I thank you, Mr. Thornton. I am very much obliged to you." "It is no trouble", he answered. They stood there awkwardly for a moment. "How are things at the mill?", Margaret asked eventually, for lack of anything better to say. "Very quiet with all the workers on strike." "Right." Another pause.

Margaret knew what she had to say to him, but she was horrified at the thought of it. "Mr. Thornton", she started, maybe a bit too forcefully. She had to get this over with before her nerves got the better of her. He raised his eyes to hers and she bravely held his gaze.

"I need to apologize for the things I said to you the other night. They were unfair and unjust and certainly uncalled for. And I deeply regret them. If you could find it in yourself to forgive me I – I promise that I will do better." There was a moment of silence during which he seemed to contemplate her words. "Do you really, Miss Hale?", he then asked in his deep voice, which sent an odd shiver down her spine.

"Regret your words, I mean? I perceived them to be quite honest."

She did not know how to respond. He was such a strange man, she simply could not make out his character and it made her feel uneasy. "I suppose I – I did mean them at the time", she admitted, "but I now feel that I was ill-qualified to judge your actions, having heard only one side of the story."

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, but had she blinked, she surely would have missed it. "My father is quite fearful that he might have lost you as his pupil", Margaret continued. "I think he has grown rather fond of your company, and I would not want to bereft him of it. Please-" she searched for the right words, "please do not stay away. You are always welcome at Crampton and I promise that I will try to –"

To what? Not yell at him and accuse him of violence? "to understand you better", she finally decided upon.

This time his lips did curl up slightly, as his gaze met hers. Margaret could not move. Something in his eyes triggered a strange reaction within her. It felt as if her body was dropping quickly from a great height, knocking the breath out of her. The street around them disappeared for a moment and all she could focus on was his face, noticing once again how strikingly handsome he was.

"Miss Hale, you need not worry on my account", he told her softly. "You spoke from your heart, and I daresay there are few people who possess enough bravery to do that. In fact, I find it to be quite an admirable trait. There is nothing to forgive. Please, tell Mr. Hale that I will be there next week, Tuesday evening if that is convenient for him."

She nodded silently. "Now, I do not wish to detain you any longer", he said in a friendly manner. "Please give my best wishes to your parents. I bid you good day, Miss Hale." He tipped his hat at her, turned, and walked away without waiting for another reply, leaving Margaret standing in the middle of the street in a complete daze.

Of all the things he could have said to her, his words were the last thing she had ever expected from him. He had not only forgiven her, but he had also paid her an honest compliment, she realized.

Margaret, by nature, had always had a tendency to speak her mind plainly and openly. She had a strong wish for independence and was not able to hold back her opinions. It was a character trait her aunt Shaw had always been in great dismay about during Margaret's stay with her in London.

Even Margaret's father, who was very good-natured and had never been particularly strict with her, had – at times – reminded her to speak more cautiously. In any case, Margaret knew that her inability to keep her mouth shut was indeed one of her greater vices and she could not recall anyone ever having regarded it as admirable before.

It was only when the basket of fruit on her arm was growing increasingly heavy, that Margaret realized she had not moved for at least five minutes. She tried to recover herself enough to make her way back down the street to Crampton, but the image of his face did not leave her.

It was then that Margaret realized two things: For one, she could not recall ever having been spoken to like this by a man before. His words had made her feel…respected. He had not looked down upon her as many other men had, even if they might have done it unconsciously. Everything in him, from his words to his stance and the tone in his voice had clearly placed her as his equal.

And the second thing she realized was that this had been the first civil conversation she had ever had with Mr. Thornton, and it had shown her a side of him that confused her. She had never expected that talking to him could be anything but unpleasant and yet, his words had left her with a strange warmth in her chest and a flush on her cheeks.

'He, of all people', she thought in wonder, as she was nearing her home. How on earth was she going to deal with such a man?

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

NOTES:

Some of you might or might not know that John Thornton was actually a real /

While Elisabeth Gaskell never explicitly mentioned having based her book character on this man, there are some parallels between his life and Thornton in the book, which seem a bit too obvious for it to be a coincidence.

John Thornton was born in Manchester in 1771. He was a spinner and very interested in spinning machines. First he worked for "Colton Twist Company" in Manchester, but in 1799 he emigrated first to Hamburg/Germany and then further to Austria where he owned a cotton mill in a small town by the name of Pottendorf (near Vienna). He died there in 1847, so some years before N&S was first published.

However, there are some small details about his life, which might be worth mentioning:

Thornton married a woman named Mary, who happened to be the daughter of a renegade clergyman.

He befriended one of his workers. Through him he became more aware of the hardships the workers were going through, and therefore he started improving their working conditions, which included opening a worker's canteen at his mill.

He is buried at the graveyard in Pottendorf. The old mill is still there too, as is a museum, which contains information on Thornton as well as a portrait of him and one of his wife.

Conveniently for me, Pottendorf is not too far from where I currently live, so I think I might go there sometime this spring and check it out.

Hope you liked the chapter and everything. I am always happy about feedback :)