"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."
~John Keats
Chapter Eighteen
Ironically, Friday, the day her mother was leaving Milton, dawned sunny and warmer than it had been in weeks. Perhaps it was a good omen, that a correct choice was made to send her mother to London.
Margaret traveled with her parents and Dixon to the train station to see her mother and maid off. Mrs. Penrod, the young widow, would move into the Hale's home at the end of November. Thankfully, Margaret would only be forced to cook and clean for a couple of weeks. Her father was not certain about having a baby in the house, but he was willing to try it, to ease Margaret's workload.
The railroad station was bustling, but her father made his way through the throng of people to purchase tickets for her mother and Dixon. Margaret tried to be excited for her mother, but instead, she felt herself fighting to hold back her tears.
"You will come with your father at Christmas?" her mother asked.
"Yes," She smiled. "I believe the Thorntons may join us if Aunt Shaw is willing to host them."
"You've spoken to John about this already?"
"Yes."
"I am certain she will appreciate meeting your John and his family. I will begin to speak with her about it as soon as we arrive to prepare her for an impending marriage between you and a businessman."
"Mama!"
"Margaret, please." She tapped Margaret's arm. "The way you two interact and look at one another, I have no doubt we will be planning a wedding in the spring." Her mother winked at her.
Perhaps this would give her something to be excited about, something to look forward to.
As her father joined them back at the rented carriage, Margaret stepped out and then waited for her mother and Dixon to join them. A porter came with a cart and began loading her mother's and Dixon's packed trunks. Her father paid the driver, and then all four of them waited for the correct train to arrive and take her mother to London.
"I do hope that the nice policeman who visited will find the culprit of the break-ins in the neighborhood." Her mother said. "I worry for your safety, Margaret. Be certain not to go out alone after dark, even within the area."
Margaret smiled. "Yes, Mama. I will be extra safe."
"Oh, dear, I did forget to tell you. I set out a necklace and earring set on my bureau. I believe it will look lovely with your dress. My father gave the set to me at my come-out party. Now, I will pass them to you." Her mother leaned forward and kissed Margaret's cheek. "I wish I could see how beautiful you will look tonight." She stepped back and cupped Margaret's shoulders as the train's whistle could be heard in the near distance. "I will try to be happy again, Margaret. Perhaps by Christmas, I will have returned to my normal self."
Margaret hugged her. "That is my fondest wish, Mama."
Margaret backed away and allowed her parents a few moments of privacy.
"Dixon," Margaret whispered. "If she continues to decline, will you alert us? I packed the medicine Dr. Donaldson gave her. Perhaps Aunt Shaw will have another doctor see Mama? I think a second opinion is warranted."
"Yes, Miss Margaret. I do agree." Dixon answered. "Take care, Miss. Do not trust this Mrs. Penrod too quickly. Lock the valuables away until you think she is worthy of your trust."
Margaret nodded. "I shall do that."
When the train rolled to a stop, her father guided her mother to the proper platform where she could climb the few short steps into the train. Dixon followed a few steps behind. Her mother met Margaret's eyes and waved goodbye. Margaret smiled, but inside she was praying this would not be the last time she saw her mother alive. She had declined so much since coming to Milton. London had to be better for her, it could be no worse.
She wrapped her hand through her father's arm and they stood watching and waving as the train headed south to London. Although Margaret had spent more time away from her mother than with her, she already felt an empty spot inside. Once the caboose passed them, Margaret turned to her father.
"Shall we go?" she suggested.
"I have students to see today, my dear," he answered. "I should walk you home, I suppose, given the issues we have experienced since moving here." He watched her carefully as if weighing the pros and cons in his head.
"It's fine, Papa, I can walk home alone." She tapped his arm, lovingly. "I do not feel unsafe here in Milton. I know we have had some strange things happen, but once these people realize Frederick is not in Milton with us, do you not think they will leave us be?"
He nodded and then guided them onto New Street. Walking slowly, he said, "I do think this must be related to Frederick. Perhaps after being settled in Helstone for so many years, the move brought up new suspicions. I would hate to think people were watching our family."
"You know for certain he is still in Spain?" Margaret whispered.
"Yes. The last letter was sent from Spain. He is happy there, Margaret, and there would be no reason for him to leave." He patted her arm and smiled. "Think how lovely it must be there this time of the year! It is warm and sunny and he said he lives quite close to the ocean."
"And he has a woman he cares for?"
"He did," her father said. "He has not mentioned her in some time. I know there was an issue about their different religions, but I expected they would overcome that. He was never exactly the strongest Presbyterian." He chuckled. "Do you recall how often he fell asleep during services? I know he loved God, but speaking and listening about it for a whole hour at a time was too much for him."
"She's Roman Catholic?"
Her father nodded. He stopped walking. "I must turn down this way, my dear. Are you certain you do not wish me to escort you home?"
She smiled. "I will be fine. Please be home by six so you can make sure I look well enough to attend my first Milton ball."
"I will be home by five so I might help you if needed." He frowned. "It is shame John will not be escorting this evening."
She laughed. "It will be interesting to use you as my lady's maid, and yes, I wish I was attending with John, but Mr. Lewis is a funny man. I expect to enjoy the evening."
"I'm certain you will have a fine time whoever escorts you." He winked. "Be safe."
Margaret waved and walked in the same direction they'd been going. She did not know most of the students her father tutored, or where they lived. She was just happy he was able to keep himself occupied. Her father was never one to remain idle for long. Unlike her mother, her father seemed to be thriving in the busyness of Milton. Margaret would continue to do her best to continue making a happy home for him, and continue praying her mother's return would be swift and she might one day be herself once again.
She encountered a few people she knew as she walked home, long before heading into the Crampton neighborhood. She waved and wished them a good day. Every day, Milton was beginning to feel more like home, although the comforts were not equal to what she was blessed with in London.
The market was on the way home. She decided to stop and see what was to be had on that day. Nothing much was left, being later in the morning, but she grabbed some items for a vegetable soup for her father's dinner that night. Dixon had been kind enough to bake several loaves of bread for them. Margaret would be eating at the Harvest Ball.
As she meandered home, her attention shifted to John, curious how he looked in formal attire. He did wear black daily, with a white shirt and black cravat. Would he wear a colored waistcoat and matching cravat? It was the Harvest Ball, and the sewing ladies had stressed the need for the color of the gowns to match the shades of the Autumn season. The men would likely follow the color rule.
And what about the dinner? How formal would it be? The most formal party Margaret had ever attended was with a man called Sir Jamison Adams. Dinner had been at the home of an earl. Everything, from the table settings to the furniture had been beautifully decorated, with no detail left unnoticed. Margaret had been in awe, and despite being raised in an affluent home, she had never seen such splendor. Sir Jamison had been a very affable companion, but he was much older than her, a widow, with four children still at home. When he asked to call on her again, she had very politely declined, using the excuse she very much wanted to soon return to Helstone and spend time with her parents after her cousin's wedding.
And, that is exactly what she had done; gone to Helstone to be with her family. Sadly, they were not there very long, and now she was here in Milton. Helstone never hosted fancy dinners or dances, and she was quite excited to see what was considered a formal ball in Milton.
As she walked down the sidewalk to her home, she stopped at Mrs. Williams to say hello. When no one answered after several knocks, Margaret continued home. She thought if Mrs. Williams knew Margaret was home alone, she might somehow feel safer.
When she reached the house, she wondered if she should go through the front or the back door. Why was she so nervous? She decided it was just because she had never been home alone before. Her mother never left the house, Dixon only left if Margaret was home to look after her mother, and although her father was often away during the day, he was always home by dark. She hoped he would be home before dark today, not that she truly needed help getting ready, but because she would feel safer with him at home.
The house felt empty when she entered through the front door. After closing it, she pulled the wooden bar across for added protection. She stood quietly, listening for any unusual noises which might indicate someone unwelcome in the house. Satisfied she was indeed alone, Margaret set the vegetables on the table in the foyer and removed her coat and gloves, and hat to hang them on the coat tree next to the door.
After changing into an older dress, with a frayed hem and a few repaired tears in the arm, Margaret got to work cutting up the vegetables. Dixon had preserved some jars of chicken broth, so adding that to the veggies, with some herbs on hand, she set it to boil on the stove.
Glancing at the clock, she realized it was well-passed lunchtime, but she was so nervous about the evening, she couldn't eat. She did have time to take a short nap before needing to get dressed for the ball. London parties often went late into the night. She assumed it would be a long party, given there was both dinner and dancing. She smiled when she recalled Mrs. Donaldson's warning to be prepared to have sore feet on Saturday.
Turning down the stove, she took off and hung up her apron. After double-checking the locks on both doors, she climbed the stairs. She remembered she had to give Snipes the picture of Frederick she had stashed away in her attic bedroom. Maybe she would give it to John that night and he could pass it along? In truth, she never wanted to see Sergeant Snipes again.
Once in her room, she removed her shoes and climbed into bed. Her naps were never long, usually only an hour or so at most. It took a bit to wind down her nervous energy, but she did drift off to sleep.
Sometime later, she heard banging on the door downstairs. Snapping awake, she realized it was likely her father arriving home. She rushed downstairs and looked out the side window before throwing the door open wide.
"Jane!" It was Mrs. Thornton's maid. "Whatever are you doing here?"
Margaret stepped aside and allowed the maid entry. Once she was inside, the Thornton carriage retreated down Crampton's main street.
"I am certain I look a fright! I have just awakened from a very deep nap." Margaret chuckled. "I wanted to stay wide awake all night tonight."
"You do look a bit flushed, and your hair needs a wee bit of straightening. Jane smiled. "Miss Hale, I must say I am a bit shocked to have been sent here."
"Is something amiss at Marlborough Mills?" Margaret asked. With Jane smiling, it could hardly be too devasting.
"Oh, no, all is well. May I set this down." Jane lifted the small wooden crate she was carrying.
"Of course," how foolish of me not to notice!"
Margaret moved aside things from the foyer table. It tended to collect all the odds and ends she and her father collected throughout the day. Books, mostly, but her sewing bag was still under the table from days ago.
Still smiling, Jane fisted her hands on her hips. "Miss Hale," jane announced, "I have been asked to make you look your very best for tonight."
Margaret gasped. "By whom?"
"Mrs. Thornton!"
"Why would she send you to me?" How amazing!
"Mrs. Thornton said your mother and maid have left you to fend for yourself. She specifically said it was of the utmost importance you look very fine tonight."
"What about Mrs. Thornton and Fanny? Do they not need your help?"
"No, Miss." Jane shook her head. "They each have their own lady's maid. I manage household duties, but when I first came to Marlborough Mills, I helped Fanny ready herself for the day, so I should be able to help you." Jane tapped on the crate. "She also asked me to bring some food for you and your father because she did not think you would have time to cook."
"Oh, I have soup on the stove, but how considerate of her, and I am certain you will be of great help."
"I must tell you, Miss Hale, Mrs. Thornton does not like many people. She is just not a social person. I believe her to be shy, and it comes across as anger sometimes. She has always been very, very good to me. She has shown a great preference for you, and at first, I thought she was just acting, to satisfy Mr. Thornton, but she's not, Miss. She does approve of you."
"Thank you for saying that, Jane," Margaret said. "I was told she was the dragon of Milton, but she has never behaved that way with me."
"Oh, do not doubt she can be," Jane assured her. "But once a person meets her standard of approval, she will treat them very well. I am lucky she liked me from the beginning, and so are you."
"I am in shock. I certainly did not expect her to help me like this."
"Well, she does have a soft spot for you, and she loves Mr. Thornton very much. She knows making you look your best will please him, so even if she did not like you, she would probably still try to ensure you always look well.
Margaret was shocked. She had no idea Mrs. Thornton would treat her so well. She had been kind to her, had given her a ride home after sewing meetings, and included her at a family meal. She supposed, since it would soon be revealed that Margaret and John were courting, it would be important to Mrs. Thornton and their family's image that Margaret is accepted by the Milton society. The best way to do that is to look the part and act the part of a future wife to a mill master. Future wife? Oh my!
"Shall we put the food in your kitchen and then begin to ready you, Miss Hale?" Jane lifted the crate again and started walking toward the back of the house. "We have only about an hour to get you ready."
Margaret glanced at the clock and realized Jane was right.
"That's not much time, is it?" Margaret asked.
"Fortunately, Miss, you are naturally quite lovely, so an hour should be plenty of time." Jane smiled over her shoulder at Margaret and winked.
"I seem to recall doing this with you just a short time ago." Mr. Hale clapped John on the back. They were waiting at the bottom of the staircase, waiting on Margaret's arrival. Mr. Hale referred to the night of the operetta so many weeks ago. "I was expecting Mr. Rupert Lewis to fetch her for the dance. Does she know you'll be escorting her?"
John grinned. "It's a surprise. I hope she will not be disappointed."
Mr. Hale snorted. "She will be thrilled."
They both looked up at a noise, but it was his mother's maid, Jane descending the stairs.
"Good evening, Mr. Thornton." She bowed her head.
"Jane, I did not expect to find you here," he said.
"Mrs. Thornton thought I could be of assistance to Miss Hale this evening."
"I am certain you were," Mr. Hale said quietly. "I feared I would have to pin up her hair and clasp her dress for her." He laughed. "I tried once to help Maria fix her hair and it ended up rather lopsided. Of course, I still found her beautiful."
John watched as a shadow crossed Mr. Hale's face. It was clear he loved his wife, despite her low spirits and anger at moving to Milton. John's parents had loved each other as well, which is why it was such a shock to their family, his mother especially when he committed suicide. His mother did not love his father any less for his faults. She had been hurt and angry, but it never affected the way she loved John's father.
"Jane, Mother is waiting in the carriage with Fanny. You may join them if you wish?"
"Yes, sir." She bowed slightly and said goodbye to Mr. Hale before leaving through the front door.
"Margaret, are you coming down some time this evening?" Mr. Hale called up the stairs.
"Just a moment!" she called back.
John shifted from one foot to the other, growing impatient. "Did Mrs. Hale get off safely this morning?"
"Yes, she did. We have rarely spent more than a few days apart in the whole of our marriage. Even during the early courting days, we were in each other's company almost daily.
"You will miss her, I am certain," John said, nodding. "Perhaps London will revive her spirits and she will come back feeling much more like herself."
"That is my hope. I do not wish to live in London, but if that is what must be, I will concede to her wishes. I do not wish to spend my final years without her."
John looked up at the sound of footsteps. Good Lord, in heaven, Margaret was glorious. She stopped on the second step going down. Her dress was incredible, flattering her figure as if it had been painted on her. It wasn't just her dress, but her hair and her face. She wore a lovely set of jewels on her ears and a matching necklace.
She frowned. "John? What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you." He grinned. "Mind you, it was worth every second, as lovely as you look, but we should be going."
"But I told you." She rushed down the stairs to him. "Mr. Lewis is coming to collect me."
"That was true when you told me, however, plans have changed." John walked to the bottom of the stairs and took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "When you saw me coming from Mr. Lewis' shop, I had been there to ask if he would be willing to forfeit his claim on you tonight. allow me to escort you. I informed him we had begun courting, and it would be terribly uncomfortable to have to fight for your attention, considering you have already agreed to be mine."
Margaret smiled. "Oh, I am so pleased." She squeezed his hands. "While I do like Mr. Rupert as a business associate, I would much prefer to be with you any day."
Mr. Hale cleared his throat.
"Sorry, Papa." Margaret flushed a delightful shade of pink and then shrugged. "It is true, though."
"Come, Margaret." John held out his hand. "Fanny will be complaining about the cold by now."
"Oh, dear," she sputtered. "I did not realize they were waiting on me."
She rushed ahead and kissed her father's cheek. She plucked a furry wrap off a peg on the coat rack and handed it to John, to help her put it on her shoulders.
"I leave you in good hands, Margaret." He clapped John on the back again. "I'll leave a light on for you, my dear. John, would you do the courtesy to see her inside? I am afraid I am rather tired this evening and may not be awake when you arrive home."
"Of course," John told him. "Are you ready?" he asked her.
She nodded and led him out the front door. Her skirts were quite wide and she had to fight with them to fit through the door. She was always dressed lovely in his eyes, but tonight she was spectacular. He closed the door behind him and took her hand to wrap it through his arm.
"The walks are slippery. It snowed just a bit." It gave him the excuse to pull her close. "You are beautiful tonight, Margaret."
"Just tonight?" she teased.
"Tonight, you look exceptional," he whispered close to her ear. "Is the jewelry your mother's?"
"Yes. Aunt Shaw has an identical set but hers are sapphire."
"And do you prefer the green stones?" he asked. "I fear I don't know all the names of gems."
"No," she answered firmly. "These are emeralds, but I prefer the blue sapphire. Pearls are truly my favorite. They aren't gems, but are simple, elegant, and match any outfit."
He helped her climb inside the carriage, a bit overwhelmed with her skirt, he laughed.
"What?" she asked. "Oh, the skirt? Just shove it in… but carefully."
He heard her say hello to his mother and sister. Somehow, they would all fit inside. Perhaps, he would simply set her on his lap. He liked the image until he remembered his mother was there. He grinned to himself, imagining her outrage. Although she liked Margaret, she did not like any sort of display of affection.
Once everyone was situated, John tapped the top of the carriage and they moved along.
Fanny laughed. "So much fabric. John, you must feel as if you have fallen under a pile of crinoline."
He nodded, grinning. "That is true, however, I will be arriving at the ball with the three loveliest ladies in Milton."
His mother clicked her tongue, and because it was dark in the carriage, he could not see her roll her eyes, but he was certain she had.
"Margaret, are you excited?" Fanny asked.
"Yes. I am most interested to see the difference between a Milton ball and a London party," Margaret said. "The sewing ladies were all highly anticipating this night, so it has increased my curiosity."
"You will have a fine time," Mrs. Thornton told her. "As you know, I do not socialize very often but I do attend the Mill Master's Association gatherings to support John and Marlborough Mills."
Fanny snorted. "I go just to dance."
John watched as Margaret smiled at Fanny and then looked out the window. Even her profile was perfect. He could not wait to Waltz with her. To arrive with her on his am would be an honor. He did not think she realized just how much Milton's society would admire her. He continued to stare at her until she turned and caught his eye. She smiled.
"Mrs. Thornton," she said. "Thank you for sending Jane to help me ready for the party." She laughed. "My father was dreading the need to help me dress my hair and secure all the closures on my dress."
His mother laughed at that. "John has said you will have a new maid soon, but I knew, as your mother left today, you would need assistance. Perhaps someday women's clothing will be far less complicated. Men's attire is so much easier. Why must women's clothing be so difficult?"
"Imagine a woman wearing pants!" Fanny laughed.
His sister was in good spirits that evening. The young Mr. Slickson had sent word that he was running late and would meet her at the club instead of picking her up. She had pouted for a few minutes, but had brightened quickly and decided it was fine, as long as she could dance and sit with him at dinner. John was curious about the real reason Slickson had not come for her, and he planned to find out.
"Pants at this time of the year would certainly be warmer," Margaret answered.
His reasonable, level-headed Margaret.
"Well, I would never wear pants," Fanny declared. "I like wearing pretty fabrics and big skirts."
"The trousers could be made of patterned cotton," John said. "Or wool. And Margaret is correct, you would certainly be warmer."
"I would try a pair." Margaret laughed. "Not in public, of course, but at home, just to see how comfortable they are."
"You would need a shirt, too," Fanny said. "Or some sort of top."
"It sounds like a challenge for you, Margaret," his mother told her. "Perhaps we could work up a pattern, or modify a men's design?"
"Shall we?" Margaret asked, laughing. "We could begin a new trend, Mrs. Thornton. Call them house trousers."
They all laughed, and John fell just a little more in love with Margaret. He did wonder how shapely Margaret's legs were and how she might look in pants. She was so much shorter than him, so they were likely petite like the rest of her. Well, most of her. She did have some quite attractive curves.
He looked away from her. He could not allow his mother to see how obsessed he was becoming with Margaret. Or, maybe he should come clean and let her help him win Margaret. He was still so uncertain about what she felt for him. If only he had more experience with women, if only he could read her expressions, the better he might be prepared to woo the beauty sitting across from him.
They arrived at the Men's Club and his driver pulled their carriage into the drop-off line. They were all looking out the window, watching couples walk down the sidewalk and enter the main entrance, held open, by two men dressed in formal attire, even with white wigs. Margaret could not remember seeing any servants wearing wigs for quite some time.
When they reached the front door, the driver bounced down and popped open the door of the carriage. His mother was the first to exit, as was her right. Fanny was next, followed by Margaret and himself.
"Margaret, will you need Jane to help you with your hair, or attire before we join the party?" his mother asked. "Fanny?"
"No," the ladies answered at the same time and laughed.
Margaret looked back inside the carriage. "Thank you again, Jane. I could not have gotten ready without you."
"My pleasure, Miss Hale."
The driver closed the door as Margaret stepped away. How kind and considerate it was that Margaret recognized Jane for her assistance. He had seen her thank servants before. She was especially kind to Dixon and treated her more like an aunt or grandmother. She confused him.
She was altering the opinion he always carried of fine London society ladies. Oh, she was as fine-mannered as anyone he had met, or seen, but she acknowledged kindness given by those of a lesser society. She enjoyed talking with Mrs. Williams, her neighbor, and according to Mr. Williams, she had repeatedly thanked him for fixing the front window at their home, even though Williams was employed by Marlborough Mills, and thus John.
She made people feel comfortable in her presence. She had grace and manners but held no airs or arrogance. Instead, she was happy to deliver baskets to the poor, even when forced to walk. The dress she wore tonight was a testament to her humility. She sewed it herself and worked off the cost by helping Mr. Lewis. John considered simply paying off the dress. He would offer to do so tonight, but he knew she would reject the suggestion. She did have pride, and he knew she would not wish to feel beholden to him, even though he had baldly admitted he was falling in love with her.
Slickson was waiting inside the door to collect Fanny. She waved goodbye to them and went inside the club on Slickson's arm. John offered his mother one arm and Margaret the other. Should he have offered Margaret first? He had no idea what was correct, but neither seemed to mind. Both were looking around the heavily decorated staircase which led to the second floor where the Mill Masters met each week, and where the ball would be held.
These dances were the only occasions when women were allowed inside the men's club. And even then, only members in good standing were admitted. John had never seen Rupert Lewis at the club, for example, but he still may have paid his dues and been an active member on days John was not there. There were daily activities for men. John attended only the Mill Master's meeting regularly, but he had enjoyed time in the billiards room. There was an area to play chess, and a separate area to enjoy alcohol. Although John could not verify it personally, women of the evening visited the very back rooms to entertain those who sought sexual satisfaction.
He led the ladies along, up the stairs beside him.
"As we enter the actual room above," John said to Margaret, "I will have to give a secret handshake to the master of ceremonies and the hostess." He chuckled. "You will be required to close your eyes."
"And if I do not?" she asked teasingly.
He adopted a very serious look on his face. "Then I fear they will ban you from the club indefinitely."
His mother laughed. "John is right about closing your eyes, but it will be finished before you know it, and as long as he remembers the code, we will be allowed entry."
"Do you know it?" Margaret whispered. A dimple appeared when she grinned at him.
"Yes, Miss Hale. It would be a crime if I forgot, and the fine people of Milton were not allowed to view how beautiful you look this evening."
He laughed when she flushed, and his mother clicked her tongue, but then chuckled.
"You need to work on your wooing language, son," she warned, looking across him to Margaret.
Margaret looked up at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "Mrs. Thornton, I think he is doing just fine."