This may not be the longest chapter, but it's pretty essential. I daresay it's a key chapter, so enjoy!

Chapter 20

"We finished off the last shift yesterday." Nicholas Higgins sighed, looking down at his hands defeatedly. It was Sunday, and they were once again sitting at the Higgins' kitchen table. "Tomorrow we will all be out of a job."

Margaret reached out her hand to his and gave it a compassionate squeeze. It was a disaster. After all those months of struggling, Marlborough Mills had closed its gates forever. Tomorrow, hundreds of people would be out of work. What was to happen to them and their families?

"Can't blame Thornton", Nicholas stated. "Mind you, he did everything he could for us and more. Now, I never thought I'd ever say this", he continued with a sad smile, "but he's a man I look up to. And that's more than I could ever say for any other master. I used to call him a man worth fighting with. Now I'll say he's a man worth fighting for, for I know there'll never be another master like him in all of Milton."

Margaret had to swallow hard at his words. "What are you going to do now?", she asked, and he shrugged. "I don't know yet. I suppose I'll try to find work at another mill again. Not that anyone would take me on, after everything that happened with the union and the strike."

Margaret looked over at little Tommy, who was sitting on the floor, with his back against the wall, reading a book again, and at that moment everything seemed to come full circle in her mind.

She thought of the story Birdie had told her of another boy just like this. A boy, who had overcome all hardships and achieved something incredible – only to have it all ripped away from him now.

"The tide comes in and the tide goes out", Nicholas said, more to himself than to anyone else. "I suppose that's the way life works. You fall, you get back up, and then, somehow, life just goes on."

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Margaret arrived back at the Latimer's home in the late afternoon and went up to her room to quickly change and freshen up, before meeting Ann and Mrs Eldon in the sitting room for tea.

As she made her way down the stairs again, she was so deep in thought that she barely paid attention to where she was going, until suddenly, she almost ran straight into someone's chest at the bottom of the stairs.

Catching herself, just in time to avoid total collision, she jumped back, startled, and her eyes shot up to whomever the white shirt and black waistcoat belonged.

Her heart stopped then. It was none other than Mr. Thornton.

He stood there, apparently as stunned as she felt. The first thing she noticed was that he looked more tired than she had ever seen him before. His face was pale, almost ashen, and he had an odd look about him, she could not quite read.

It immediately made Margaret's chest tighten with a strange, uneasy feeling she could not place. His eyes looked…almost empty, and somehow unfocused, as if he was looking right through her, not seeing her properly.

"Miss Hale", he murmured in a weary voice. "Mr. Thornton", she replied automatically, her mind reeling, unable to grasp the situation.

She had not seen him in weeks. Not since before…Birdie. It was the first time she saw him since she had learned all those things about him. Oh, how she had dreaded having to face him again after all that, and there he was now…and it quickly became clear to Margaret that she was entirely unable to unlearn what the woman had told her. In a matter of seconds, everything she now knew came crashing down on her at once, as she stared into his face, unable to move.

"W – what are you doing here?", she stammered, trying to catch herself.

"I had a business appointment with Mr. Latimer." His voice was monotone, and he did not meet her eyes "Oh." There was nothing more to say to that.

"I hope you are well?" he asked eventually. "I am – as well as can be expected. The Latimers are very kind to me." He nodded, as his right hand fiddled with the lapel of his left sleeve in a nervous manner.

"I wish to thank you for the basket you sent. It was very much appreciated."

She felt the corners of her mouth tug up slightly at that. "I am glad."

There was another pause. Then, he suddenly held out his hand to her. She took it willingly and felt the familiar tingle move up her arm as their skin touched. His other hand came up to cup hers between both of his in a firm grip. She could feel his rough calloused skin against hers, making her wonder about everything those hands had been through.

He held on to her much longer than would have been considered appropriate, all the while looking down at their joined hands wordlessly, seemingly deep in thought. They stood in eery silence, as if they were both bound by some invisible spell. It felt strangely intimate.

Eventually, she heard him draw an audible breath, and then he straightened himself in a somewhat determined manner, as if trying to pull himself out of some daze. He finally lifted his gaze to look into her face, and for a moment his blue eyes bore into hers with an intensity that rendered her motionless.

"Goodbye, Miss Hale." He let go of her hand, grabbed his hat from the side table at the door, and without waiting for a reply or even looking at her again, he strode over to the front door in one swift movement and was gone, appearing almost desperate to get away from her.

As the door fell shut behind him, Margaret stared at it for a moment, stunned. Then, she suddenly sprung back to life and darted through the door to her left into the sitting room. Mrs. Eldon was there, standing by one of the big windows, gazing out into the front garden. Margaret quickly joined her and saw the retreating form of Mr. Thornton make his way towards the street in his perfectly cut frock coat and elegant top hat.

He was dressed as usual, but there was something in the way he was holding himself that seemed slightly off. Margaret could not put her finger on what it was exactly, but his whole demeanour seemed odd.

Looking after him, the uneasy feeling, his strange departure had induced in her, seemed to intensify. Like a foreboding that something bad was going to happen.

"Oh dear", she heard a worried voice say next to her and looked up at Mrs. Eldon who was still staring out of the window after Mr. Thornton. "I have got a bad feeling about this one." "What do you mean?", Margaret inquired nervously. Mrs. Eldon turned to look at her gravely.

"There goes a man who has lost everything, Miss Hale. Now, he has always been a strong fellow, but when I saw him today, with that strange, pallid look of gloom on his face…it almost made me feel as though this look is the forerunner of death."

Margaret was hit by a dizzy spell, and quickly reached out to clutch the nearest curtain, as the gravity of Mrs. Eldon's words hit her full force and it all fell into place in her head.

"Miss Hale, are you alright?", Mrs. Eldon exclaimed in concern. Margaret took a deep breath, trying to clear her head, before nodding quickly. "I – I am alright. Just a bit of a headache. Please, if you will excuse me. There is something I need to do." With that, she fled from the room.

Out in the hall, she stood for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she felt slightly nauseous. She could not faint, could not let her fear get the better of her. Not when so much was at stake. She had to act now, immediately, before it was too late.

With a strength she had not known she possessed, Margaret strode along the dark corridor towards the door of Mr. Latimer's office and firmly knocked on it.

"Enter?", she heard his voice from the other side, and did not wait for another second to dash inside, trying to get this over with, before her bravery would leave her.

"Mr. Latimer", Margaret started, before he even had the time to bid her sit down. "I am sorry to disturb you at this hour, but there is something urgent I need to discuss with you."

Latimer looked up at her from his chair, in surprise. "Miss Hale – of course – please do sit down. What can I help you with?"

She needed no further invitation: "I have decided on what to do with inheritance. I need you to tell me how to go about this, and draw up the plan for a business proposition. And I'm afraid I need it immediately. We cannot afford to lose any time."

The banker was stunned at this sudden outburst, and the urgency in her eyes and voice, but he had promised Mr. Bell that he would comply with the young woman's wishes and he was a man of his word. "And what exactly is it you wish to do with the inheritance?", he asked curiously.

Margaret looked him straight in the eye, her voice one of stern determination: "I am going to invest the money in Marlborough Mills."

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One and a half hours later, the basic draft of a business proposition had been drawn up. At first, Mr. Latimer had been shocked at the idea of investing the bulk of her money in a failed enterprise, but after quickly doing a few rough calculations, he had come up with an idea that did not seem half bad.

They would have to make some exact calculations, weigh their options, negotiate everything, but with the available sum, there was a good chance to start making a safe profit within a year – granted that Thornton agreed to it, of course.

The moment they were done, the bell rang for dinner, and they quickly made their way to the dining room, where Mrs. Latimer, Ann and Mrs. Eldon were taking their seats at the table as they entered.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Margaret barely ate anything and tried to get it over with as quickly as possible. She did feel some relief at having been able to convince Mr. Latimer to help her, and at having so quickly found a way to save Marlborough Mills, but the feeling of unease that had gripped her, would not let up.

All she could think of was the look in Mr. Thornton's eyes and the way he had told her "Goodbye."

He had never said that to her before, she realized with a pang. Whenever they had parted in the past, he had bid her a "good day" or, if it was late, a "good night". Today had been different. There had been a sense of finality. 'Oh, dear God, please let him see reason' she begged silently.

After the plates had been cleared away, Margaret hastily excused herself, stating that she had a headache and would retire early. No one questioned her.

Up in her room, Margaret frantically paced up and down, her hands repeatedly clenching and unclenching, nervously. Outside her window, the sky was dark now. Tomorrow morning, she could go to Marlborough Mills and tell Mr. Thornton about her investment plans.

'Tomorrow morning might be too late!' her mind screamed at her.

The longer she thought about it, the more certain she became that something terrible was going to happen. After all she had learned about him, after all he had been through, there had been one thing he had clung to: Getting out of that dreadful slum and building something for himself.

She knew how important the mill had been to him. It had been his lifeline, she realized. The one thing that had kept him going through all of this. But now that was gone, and Margaret could not get the look in his eyes out of her mind, as he had stared at her, right before telling her goodbye. He had looked as though he had been trying to memorize her face – as if he would never see her again.

Margaret suddenly stopped pacing and drew in a deep breath. She could not stay here. If he did something to himself, she knew that she would never be able to forgive herself. For all she knew, he could be putting a gun to his head this very moment – she could not afford to lose any more time.

She had no plan, no idea what she was going to do, all she knew was that, after all he had done for her, after all they had been through, this was the moment to stop thinking and start acting. To throw all caution to the wind, ignore propriety, forget all her doubts and fears, and put everything on the line to save him.

And then she had donned her coat and bonnet, and was out of her door, stopping only for a moment to listen intently and make sure that her departure would go unnoticed. She could hear Ann's and Mrs. Eldon's laughter downstairs in the sitting room, then Mr. Latimer said something she could not understand.

The corridor was dark as she made her way quietly to the back of the house and down the flight of narrow stairs, which were usually only used by the house staff.

In a matter of minutes, Margaret had sneaked out of the back door, and hurriedly made her way through the darkened city, towards Marlborough Mills.

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NOTES:

*rubs hands together with evil grin*

YES, PEOPLE, THIS IS IT!

Finally, after taking literally ages to set all of this up, I've got both John and Margaret, and all of you readers just where I wanted y'all! (LOL)

It's time for me to make amends, and let me tell you: This thing is gonna blow!