Guess who's back, back again! In all seriousness though, I am so grateful for all of your kind words. This chapter is quite a lot packed in together as you'll find, but I hope you still enjoy it. This story is still likely to have a good handful of chapters to go. I have written some, but I haven't written to the end just yet.
For those of you who keep enquiring about Henry, I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait and see. I've already written some bits that are a little more Henry focused and they will be in the next chapters, don't worry.
Enjoy!
xxx
The wedding of Fanny Thornton was exactly what Margaret had expected it to be. Fanny was an extravagant bride and Watson was beaming with his usual cheer. The bells rang to announce the marriage of the happy couple and as everyone poured out of the church, Margaret could not help but notice the presence of Anne Latimer clinging to Mr Thornton's arm. She was a very pretty lady and Margaret could see his mother approving of her greatly, and yet Margaret burned with jealousy at the sight of them.
She had seen very little of Mr Thornton since the funeral, only spotting him in the streets from time to time. She understood that he would be avoiding her, even more so after the policeman had called upon her and she had lied to him. Still, Mr Thornton had not disproved her lie by speaking up, so she felt that deep down he must still care for her to some capacity.
The next few weeks passed without anything of note occurring aside from the deaths of Boucher and his wife. Nicholas had generously taken in the children and Margaret busied herself with helping Mary occupy them. Seven children were after all a big responsibility for only one person while Nicholas was working.
Nicholas himself was reportedly doing a fantastic job at Marlborough mills and he happily told Margaret about his conversations with Mr Thornton. It seemed that against his own better judgement, Mr Thornton was beginning to see the merit in maintaining good relationships with his employees.
Mr Bell came back to Milton on some business the next week and invited Mr Hale to go with him to Oxford for a visit. Mr Hale was apprehensive to leave, but Margaret assured him that she could keep house until he returned and then she would most likely return to London herself in the week following. With her reassurance and the insistence of Mr Bell, Mr Hale left for Oxford in high spirits.
Scarcely days later when the afternoon sun was beginning to relent to darkness, Margaret saw the arrival of Mr Bell from the upstairs window, but her father was not present. Her immediate confusion was replaced with immediate shock as Mr Bell came into the house and announced that Mr Hale had passed away peacefully in his sleep.
Margaret was in too much shock to grieve and Mr Bell insisted on staying with her until Henry arrived at the very least. In that moment Margaret was lost. She wanted someone to go to, someone to comfort her. She longed for Fredrick.
The next day she and Dixon set about organising the things that were to go to London and the things that were to be auctioned off. After several hours of this, Margaret was exceedingly glad that her parents lived simple lives. Their possessions were few and it made things a lot easier for Margaret to sort through. The truth of everything hit her when she entered into her father's study and began to sort through the contents. Her father was not a secretive man by any means, but Margaret did find several surprises. One such item was a letter written by her mother to her father. It was dated before their marriage and Margaret smiled as she read her mother's pretty words. Oh, how they had loved each other.
The tears had never really stopped since Margaret had discovered that letter among others and she was barely containing herself when Henry arrived at the house. He took her into his arms and held her there for a moment in a gesture that Margaret had not expected. She cautiously brought her arms up and held onto him there.
'I'm so sorry, Margaret,' he murmured. 'You have seen so much pain and suffering here. I shall be glad to take you away from it all'.
There was the other thing that Margaret dreaded. With both of her parents gone she would have little reason to come to Milton. She would likely never see her friends again nor Mr Thornton.
'It's not so bad here, Henry,' she said as she extricated herself from his embrace. 'Of course, it is not quite so lively and friendly as London, nor as pretty as Helstone, but it does have its merits'.
Henry smiled. 'I feel as though you may find such merit anywhere if you tried hard enough'.
That evening Mr Bell spent one last meal with them before he announced his leaving to attend to some business. Margaret spent much of the evening tossing and turning in her bed. She did not wish to sleep, for it would mean wasting precious hours of the time she still had in Milton. Still sleep found her and she was awoken the next morning to the sound of Dixon's raised voice. Hurrying to make herself presentable, she rushed down into the kitchen to see Nicholas sitting at the table looking grumpy, a pair of muddy boots by the door.
'Nicholas,' she greeted, 'what brings you here so early?'
Nicholas rose from his chair immediately and crossed the room to stand in front of her. 'I heard word about your father. I'm so sorry, Margaret'.
'Thank you,' Margaret smiled softly. 'I'm afraid it hasn't quite sunk in properly at this point'.
'So, you'll be leaving Milton then, I reckon?'
Margaret nodded. 'Yes. I cannot justify staying here, no matter how much I may wish to'.
'I reckon there'll be some mourning in your absence'.
'Not many I can imagine,' Margaret laughed quietly. 'I will miss you, Nicholas, and Mary. You have been very good to me'.
'Not as good as you have to us, Miss,' he smiled. 'Anyway, I won't keep you. I have to be getting to work myself'.
'How is your work?' Margaret asked as she walked him to the door.
Nicholas gave her another sly smile. 'Thornton treats me well. We've been getting along very well, he and I. Perhaps you were right about him, Miss, though I doubt he would've hired me if I hadn't have said you recommended him'.
'I will see you again before we leave,' Margaret said earnestly as he was putting his boots back on, 'take care, Nicholas'.
'Aye, you too Miss'.
Xxx
That afternoon while Henry was out tending to some errands, Margaret sat quietly in the parlour. She was going through the last of her father's books that hadn't been sorted. A smile came to her face as she read the titles of volume upon volume of her father's passions. She came across her father's edition of Plato and she paused, remembering how her father and Mr Thornton had discussed it often. She made a note to put it aside for him.
Only moments later her solitude was interrupted by Dixon, announcing the entrance of the very man she had just been thinking of. He hurried up the last few stairs and Dixon left them to themselves.
'Mr Thornton,' Margaret stood up and placed the book she had been holding back onto the table.
'Mrs Lennox,' he greeted in a slightly breathless voice. Clearly he had made his way there in a hurry. 'Forgive me, I've only just heard. Mr Hale…'
'Yes,' Margaret replied quietly as she fought back against the tears that threatened to fall.
Mr Thornton hurried forward, only to stop just short of her. 'Margaret'—
'Mr Thornton,' she cut him off softly. 'As you may know, I will not be in Milton for much longer and I can only imagine what you must think of me at this moment. I'm certain that you are confused and rightfully so, but I would like to enlighten you if you'd allow me?'
'Of course,' he breathed.
Margaret took a deep breath and looked up once more into those piercing eyes. 'I have a brother, Mr Thornton. Due to unfortunate circumstances he cannot move about freely without fear of the law catching up to him. When my mother was dying, I wrote to him and he came to be with our mother as she passed'.
Mr Thornton frowned for a moment. 'The man with you that night'—
'My brother, Fredrick,' she whispered.
'Margaret'—
'Please,' she cut across him again. 'I only tell you this because it is very likely that after tomorrow, we will not meet again. I cannot go away knowing that you think ill of me'.
'I could never think ill of you,' he replied quietly.
The sound of creaking wood drew their attention as Henry came up the hallway and around the door. He stopped at the sight of them, but his facial expression did not indicate that he'd overheard their conversation. His face was passive at first as he entered and then he smiled politely as he extended a hand.
'Mr Thornton, it is a pleasure to see you again,' he greeted.
Mr Thornton took his offered hand in a firm handshake. 'Mr Lennox. I just heard the news of Mr Hale's passing and came to offer my condolences. He was an excellent man and a good friend'.
Margaret smiled softly at this and Henry nodded. 'Indeed, he was'.
'We will likely leave tomorrow,' Margaret spoke directly to John, her eyes meeting his. 'Please tell your mother and sister that I will call tomorrow morning to say goodbye, if that would be convenient?'
'Of course,' Mr Thornton nodded. 'I shall leave you to your preparations'.
He left as abruptly as he arrived, leaving Margaret and Henry standing in silence for several moments. He turned to her then as she resumed her sorting.
'I am sorry that you cannot stay, Margaret'.
Margaret paused her work and gave him a puzzled look.
'I know that there are those here whose company you cherish. Nicholas, Mary, Mr Thornton. I am sorry that they will be so far away from you'.
Margaret's face softened, but there was weariness behind her eyes. 'Perhaps it is best to turn the page,' she cleared her throat delicately, 'they are fine people, but I am not part of their world'.
Margaret's manner did not go unmissed by Henry. As unfamiliar as they were in some ways, he knew her well enough to dislike seeing her in such a state of impassiveness. The Margaret he knew before they married had been strong, lively, and perhaps a little brash at times. The woman he saw before him now was a shell of the creature he had met those years ago.
As he attempted to help her in her tasks, he had to stop and wonder whether he had done this. He knew that his work and lifestyle would mean some isolation for her, but Margaret had always seemed to enjoy her own company and would never express any unhappiness when they were together. He wondered now how much had been a mask and how much he did not know.
Xxx
The next day saw Margaret walking the chilly streets of Milton. Henry had gone to make some last-minute arrangements and had promised to meet her at the Thornton's while Dixon was to stay and organise the auction for the rest of her parents less sentimental possessions.
Having already seen Nicholas and Mary briefly and given Nicholas a gift of as much money as she could afford to give for the children, she made her way to her last stop. As she walked the familiar path, her father's Plato in hand, she felt a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold morning air.
The fear gripped her that Mr Thornton may not be available while she said goodbye to his mother and sister. She could leave Milton without seeing him again and that thought terrified her. If he was only to be a memory to her, she needed time to memorise every detail of him. His handsome face and icy eyes, his tall form and noble profile. More than that, she wanted to remember the sound of his voice and that way it warmed her chest.
As she hurried through the yard towards the house, she couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. There were still the sounds of machinery and workers, but it was not so crowded and lively.
She knocked quietly on the door and was surprised when it was opened immediately. The servant led her straight up the stairs to the parlour where she saw Fanny and Mrs Thornton waiting.
'I am so sorry that you're leaving,' Fanny burst out at once. 'Such sad business'.
'Yes,' Margaret agreed. 'I am sad to be going'.
'But at least you'll be going home to London,' Fanny swooned. 'I'm sure you'll have plenty to distract yourself with there'.
'I'm sure Mrs Lennox will find suitable diversion,' said Mrs Thornton in a clear effort to stop her daughter from speaking any further. 'After all, London is your home'.
'Mrs Thornton,' Margaret addressed her quietly. 'I want to thank you for what you said to me when we last spoke. I know that you acted out of care and kindness, and I appreciate that you honoured my mother's wishes'.
Mrs Thornton looked a little taken aback but nodded stiffly with a slight smile. The door to the parlour opened once more and Mr Thornton entered, looking around a little worriedly until his eyes fell upon Margaret. Fanny said one last goodbye to Margaret and excused herself. Mrs Thornton exchanged a look with her son before she moved to the table to resume her sewing.
'I brought you this,' Margaret held out the book and Mr Thornton carefully took it, a fond smile passing over his face. 'I remember you and father having many discussions about it, so I thought that perhaps you might like it'.
'I shall treasure it,' he replied in a soft voice that barely hid the emotion he was holding back. 'So, when do you depart?'
'Soon. Henry said he will come to here when everything is ready. It will not be long'.
For a few moments the only sound that could be heard was the movement of material as Mrs Thornton sewed. Margaret looked up into the eyes already watching her and she saw there once more was the longing she too felt so acutely. She managed a sad smile and he looked as thought he was about to speak again but thought the better of it as the door to the room opened again and the same servant arrived to announce that her cab was waiting.
She hastily said her goodbyes to Mrs Thornton and Mr Thornton and hurried to follow the servant, feeling her courage disappear. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she hastily brushed it off as she descended the stairs and made her way towards the door. Henry emerged from the cab as she was just about out of the door and gestured for her to hurry.
'Come, my dear, it is getting colder'.
Margaret heeded his words and quickly exited the house, descending the final stairs to the yard with a flourish of her skirts. Henry offered her his hand and as she climbed into the cab, she dared to take one last look back towards the house. Mr Thornton stood on the threshold, where only a few weeks previous, she had come to his rescue. Their eyes locked for a second and then she was inside the cab. Henry said a hasty goodbye to Mr Thornton and thanked him for his kindness to Margaret and her family. Margaret did not hear the whole conversation but caught snippets of Mr Thornton's voice.
Once Henry joined her in the cab, the driver carried on forward and out of the mill yard. Margaret blinked rapidly and tried her best to hold back the tears that were welling in her eyes. Without a word, Henry handed her a clean handkerchief and she took it gratefully as they continued their journey towards the train station and then out of Milton.
xxx
And away we go. Now, I will warn you ahead of time, the next chapters may contain quite a lot of angst as judging from my previous stories, it seems to be my speciality. There will also be some very serious themes and I will be putting warnings where necessary. The North and South we all know and love is certainly not all unicorns and rainbows, so you should be well prepared for some darkness. Thanks for your support, guys! Until next time.
