NORTH & SOUTH REWIND
A/N: I use quotes from both the series, by Sandy Welch, and the book, by Elizabeth Gaskell. And I do make free with suggesting it all came from the book, even though it didn't.
….oOo….
Elizabeth Beckett was happy to sink into her seat after boarding the train at Marylebone station. She heaved a big sigh and stared out the window as the train picked up speed on its way toward Milton Northern. She had gotten a call the day before that her grandmother was ill. She decided to drop everything and rush to her aid. Orphaned at a young age, Elizabeth had been raised by her maternal grandmother. So, there was no question that she would return to her side in her time of need.
As she settled in for the three-hour journey, she pulled her favorite novel out of her satchel. Her grandmother had introduced her to 'North and South' ten years ago, when she was thirteen years old - first the book and then the BBC series; and as they say, 'the rest was history.' Elizabeth fell in love with the story and the characters. While other people, bored or under stress, sought out their favorite comfort foods, Elizabeth always turned to her favorite book. By skipping through to her most beloved passages, Elizabeth knew she could finish it by the time she arrived at her destination.
The train pulled into Outwood station in Milton in the early afternoon and, as the weather was cooler here than it was in London, she decided to walk the few short blocks to her childhood home. Her family had lived in Milton for seven generations. This fact made North and South that much more special to her. Her ancestors would have been alive at the time the events of the novel took place. Although she knew it was fiction, she liked to imagine that her great great great grandparents might have known the Thorntons or the Hales.
Elizabeth walked up the steps to her grandmother's town house in Crampton Crescent (Yes! Just like the book!). She felt for the spare key under the doorstep and let herself in.
"Grams! I'm home!" she shouted.
"Elizabeth is that you?" came the elderly woman's reply.
"Yes, I'm here," Elizabeth responded as she climbed the stairs to her grandmother's room. She had been named for her grandmother, Elizabeth Mary. In fact, there had been an Elizabeth in her family for the past five generations. It was a family tradition.
"I was able to take two weeks off of work to come and take care of you." She leaned over the bed with a cheery smile on her face to place a kiss on her grandmother's cheek.
"I'm glad you are here," Grams replied, "I have missed you these last few months."
"How are you feeling?" Elizabeth asked sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Very weak and tired," the elderly woman replied with a sigh.
"Well, I am here now," her granddaughter stated optimistically, "I will take care of you and cheer you up. Have you eaten lunch yet?"
"Yes, dear, and now that I know you are safely arrived, I would like to take a nap. Would you read to me till I fall asleep?" She indicated her book sitting on the bedside table.
Elizabeth smiled, for it was 'North and South'. She picked it up and began where her grandmother left off.
….oOo….
Once Grams had drifted off to sleep, Elizabeth arose to stretch her limbs. She walked over to the bookcase Grams kept in her room and started to peruse the titles. She was a bit taken aback to find so many copies of 'North and South'. Print editions that dated all the way back to the original published in 1855 in two volumes. She had not known that her grandmother was such fan as to have collected every edition.
As she walked around the room, she spied an old dusty trunk. It was familiar to her as she had often seen it in her grandmother's attic but had never looked inside. She wondered why it was in Grams' room now, so she knelt in front to open it. Inside she found a beautiful Victorian era wedding gown; a black lace matronly collar of old English point work; an old tin cup; a sketchbook of drawings and paintings dating from around 1845 through 1850; a catalog of the exhibitors of the 1851 Great Exposition; two ticket stubs, for ship passage from London to Cadiz Spain and back, dated 1853; a pair of men's leather gloves, and a simple gold pocket watch. Elizabeth wondered how her grandmother had come into the possession of such things. She slipped the watch into her pocket to remind her to ask her grandmother about it when she woke.
Later when her grandmother was awake Elizabeth showed her the pocket watch and asked her about it and the contents of the trunk. Her grandmother smiled and looked sidelong at her granddaughter. She told her that the pocket watch had belonged to her four times great grandfather George Thornton. She then proceeded to confess the long-held family secret that her grandmother, and therefore Elizabeth herself, had been descended from John and Margaret Thornton of Milton and that the book, however, presented as fiction, was actually real and the true story of her great great great grandparents. Elizabeth was shocked but rather excited to hear this news.
As the days passed, and her grandmother's health improved, Elizabeth continued to read the story aloud. Her grandmother made many comments which Elizabeth took to heart as the story now had much more meaning to her. Throughout the story, however, there was one thing her grandmother lamented most often, "If John had only known who Fred was then they would have been happier sooner."
….oOo….
One night, while Elizabeth was reading aloud, Grams asked to see the watch again. Elizabeth still had it in her pocket, so she pulled it out and handed it over. Grams opened the cover and set the time. Contemplating the watch for a moment she glanced at her granddaughter and declared with finality, "Yes, it's time." Without closing the watch, the old woman laid her head back on her pillow and was soon fast asleep.
Elizabeth was a little confused by her grandmother's statement but assumed she had meant it was time for bed. She gently slipped the watch from Grams' fingers. She checked it for the time and clicked the watch shut. She had not realized how late it was. Suddenly, as if the lateness of the hour had suggested it, she felt extremely sleepy. Not even bothering to get out of the chair, she fell asleep right there. In one hand she held her great great great grandfather's pocket watch and, in her lap, lay the book.
She awoke sometime later to find herself in a humble home, where a small fire burned in the hearth, a girl of about fifteen years was busy cooking something over an old-fashioned cast-iron stove.
"Ah, you're awake, Bessy! How are you feeling? You just dozed off on me there. I was afraid your Miss Hale might show up while you were sleeping there and then where would you be?"
Elizabeth had not been called Bessy since she was a child. Confusedly, she looked around the room for some other person that the girl might be talking to but saw that there was no one else present. Not even her grandmother, whom she had been sitting next to when she fell asleep, was there. What had happened to her? She looked at herself and noticed the old fashioned and well-worn clothes she had on. The only thing familiar to her was the gold pocket watch which she still clutched in her hand.
The girl came up to her and Elizabeth quickly slipped the watch into her apron pocket. "Bessy," she said, placing her hand on Elizabeth's forehead. "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Bessy? Was she now Bessy? Elizabeth was very confused, but she saw that the girl required some confirmation of her well-being. "I – I'm alright. I just dozed off for a little while, I guess."
"I think maybe you best go lie down, Bess," said the girl, "I don't think that Miss Hale of yours is going to come today."
"Miss Hale? W-what?" asked Elizabeth, something about that name sounded familiar to her.
"Good Lord, dear sister, did you hit your head or something?" the girl replied, "Miss Hale! The lady you and Da met last week. Who was supposed to come visit you. You wait around every day but she doesna come. Still, you can't stop talking about her."
'Hold on a minute,' thought Elizabeth to herself, 'Miss Hale, Bessy, her sister… 'North and South!' I must be dreaming that I am Bessy in North and South. So, this girl must be Mary, and our father, wherever he may be, must be Nicholas.'
To test her theory she ventured to say, "Yes, Mary, I do still feel a bit tired. I think I will go lie down."
Mary came to help her up. 'That's right,' thought Elizabeth, 'Bessy was sickly and would have needed help.' As she stood, her heart rate increased and she struggled for breath. She let Mary help her into bed.
Elizabeth was feeling a bit tired, and she figured surely if she went back to sleep she would wake up again back in the chair next to her ailing grandmother. After all, this was just a dream, right?
….oOo….
"Hey, Bess," a gruff voice said. The bed dipped and a strong yet gentle hand grabbed her shoulder and shook her lightly. Elizabeth woke groggily to the sight of a smiling male face that she did not recognize. Then the girl's face came into view as well.
'Oh no,' thought Elizabeth, 'I must still be dreaming I am in 'North and South.' How can this be?' She felt in her pocket for the one constant she had – the pocket watch. It was still there.
"Bess," Nicholas reached to help his daughter sit up, "It's time to eat and Mary tells me you've been sleepin' all day."
"Yes, father," Elizabeth replied attempting to remember Bessy's part in the story. From what Mary had said earlier Margaret hadn't visited yet but Elizabeth knew she would.
"Your new friend come by yet?" he asked cynically.
"No, father," Elizabeth replied, disappointed. "But she will," she added with conviction.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully while Elizabeth tried to acquaint herself with her surroundings and her newfound 19th century family, who seemed to genuinely love and care for her. Being an orphan and an only child, she never had a father or a sister. So this experience was new and very welcome to her. Her 19th century body, however, was not as healthy as her 21st century one. She could feel the congestion in Bessy's lungs and often felt the struggle for breath. She figured, though, that if she was to be stuck here, dream or no, she might as well try to fit in and rack her brain for memories of the story.
The next day Nicholas had a union meeting to attend after work. As it neared the time of his expected return there was a knock at the door. Mary was slow in answering it.
A female voice came with a line familiar to Elizabeth.
"Excuse me," the clear female voice said, in a southern accent, "I thought Bessy Higgins lived here."
'This must be Margaret,' Elizabeth thought to herself, 'finally!'.
Mary, always quiet around strangers, merely stepped aside to let the much-anticipated visitor in.
The new acquaintances greeted each other.
"I - I brought a basket," Margaret said haltingly.
"Mary, would you take it," Elizabeth instructed and then realizing Margaret had not yet met Mary, she introduced them and invited Margaret to take a seat.
"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," explained Margaret apologetically, "To tell you the truth I didn't know that I would be welcome. I thought the groceries would be offensive. But then if I'd come without anything…"
Elizabeth remembered Bessy's clever line, and delivered it convincingly, "If there is a remote possibility of us finding offense you can be sure we will. We're very good at that in Milton."
"I feel I've lived in Milton for quite some time now, but I still find myself constantly at fault whichever way I turn," Margaret confessed, "How long do you think it will take for that to change?"
"Oh, a couple of years at least, in your case." Elizabeth deadpanned.
Margaret gaped at her until Elizabeth broke into laughter. Mary joined in, and Margaret, realizing the joke, smiled as well.
Then Elizabeth remembered Bessy was supposed to be sick and so she started coughing.
"It's alright," she said still coughing as Mary approached and Margaret looked on with concern, "It's just a bit of cold I can't seem to shift."
Just then the door opened and Nicholas walked in. He eyed their visitor with some suspicion.
"She were right," he said nodding toward his daughter, "She said you would come."
"How was the meeting father?" Elizabeth asked, but Nicholas kept a suspicious eye on Margaret.
"Do not worry on my account," Margaret offered, "I have no one to tell any secrets to."
"Your father, the parson's been seen supping with the bosses," the union leader accused.
"Mr. Thornton is his pupil," Margaret explained. "He's certainly not my friend," she added with disdainful conviction.
Elizabeth had to stifle a snort. She could see that Margaret was already in denial.
"And Boucher?" Elizabeth remembered her next line. Then to Margaret, she added, "He's our neighbor down the way."
"He's holdin' up - just," replied Nicholas, "But he'll be with us when the flag goes up right enough - if he knows what's good for him." Looking again at Margaret he asked, "Miss Margaret, your father teaches at the Lyceum Hall doesn't he."
"Yes, he does, Sunday afternoons," was the reply.
Nicholas proceeded to enquire about the possibility of using her father's classroom this Sunday for their union meeting. They would need a large room to hold all the mill workers. Margaret would speak with her father and get back to him.
….oOo….
Margaret had sent word to Bessy that her father would allow the use of his lecture room at the Lyceum Hall and Nicholas took advantage of the opportunity to hold his union meeting there to organize the upcoming strike.
Other than this note, Elizabeth did not hear from her new friend for a few days.
Bessy did have other friends who would occasionally stop by to visit with her and Mary. Jenny, who had been a fellow spinner with her at Marlborough Mills, came to see her one day. She related how Miss Margaret had stopped by her home a time or two with a basket to visit herself and her mother who had been ill. She told Bessy how she had seen Margaret that day at Marlborough Mills and how the master had snuck up behind the pretty Southern lady when she had been asking about working conditions at Marlborough. The master didn't seem too happy about her questioning his employees but Margaret was unabashed. However, when she mentioned receiving the name of a doctor from the old dragon, his face took on the look of genuine concern for her health. The two then walked away from the young spinner and she could not hear the rest of their conversation, though it seemed amicable enough.
Elizabeth and Jenny went on to gossip about the couple and the meaning of the master's concern. It was cathartic for Elizabeth to talk about the burgeoning love between the Northern Mill Master and the young Southern lady even if it was under the guise of tittle tattle and speculation.
The next day Margaret stopped by and related the story of her foray into the mill yard herself.
"And all the time there she is looking down on us like a great black angry crow guarding the nest," her Southern accent evident in her recounting of the incident.
Elizabeth laughed.
"As if I would ever consider her son as a suitor!" Margaret exclaimed, rolling her eyes.
"Come on, don't say you haven't thought about it," Elizabeth ventured to tease her.
The two of them chuckled.
"Mind you," Elizabeth brought out her deadpan again, "you'd have to get you some smarter clothes if you're to mix with them at Marlborough Mills."
"Thank you," Margaret replied sardonically, "I'll have you know; these were new last year."
"You wouldn't stand a chance," Elizabeth taunted her, "There's loads of girls after him."
"And they're welcome to him with my good wishes," Margaret vehemently declared. "I can say this," she added with conviction, "If I ever have a son, I won't hang on to him like she does."
"Well," Elizabeth replied as she looked away and got up to pour more tea, "I won't be having children of any sort, so that won't be a problem." Elizabeth punctuated her declaration with a few coughs.
"Bessy," Margaret's voice dripped with concern, "is it really so bad?"
"Fluff in me lungs," Elizabeth replied matter of factly, "won't go away however much I cough." Trying to make light of it all she added, "At least I won't grow too old and ugly," she chuckled, "there is that."
"And this happened at Marlborough Mills?" asked Margaret.
"No," replied Bessy, far from wanting to give Margaret any more reasons to dislike Thornton. She sat back down with her tea, "No, must've happened when I were little. We didn't know of these things then. We all had to work. When father found out, he made me straight away to Thornton's."
She knew Margaret understood the better working conditions at Marlborough Mills due to Thornton's installation of the wheel, years back. She knew Margaret needed to think as highly of Thornton as possible.
"He loves you very much doesn't he," observed Margaret regarding Bessy's father.
"Yes," replied Elizabeth with fondness. "Fathers and daughters, mothers and sons. So maybe we shouldn't be too hard on old battle-axe Thornton." The two girls laughed. "Maybe your mother would be just the same if she had a son."
Elizabeth waited through the pregnant pause.
"She does," replied Margaret looking down, "have a son. I have a brother."
"Well," Elizabeth had to feign shock as she already knew this fact, "why did you never say so before?"
"Because we don't talk about him," Margaret replied, somewhat ashamed, not for Fred's actions but because her family neglects speaking of him.
"Come on," encouraged Elizabeth, "I could do with a good story."
Margaret proceeded to tell Fred's story. Elizabeth inquired about the possibility of exoneration.
"No," concluded Margaret, "Frederick's safe in Spain. But if he comes home, he'll be condemned to death, I'm sure."
Elizabeth leaned forward to place her hand on Margaret's. "I suppose you can take comfort that he was so brave and acted to spare those sailors weaker than himself," she comforted her friend.
"Yes, I do," replied Margaret with a slight smile. "But I confess that sometimes I wish he had been more of a coward. If it meant my mother might see him once more."
Elizabeth knew that soon Margaret would write to her brother and beg him to risk all and come visit his dying mother; and that that visit would end up driving the biggest wedge between Margaret and Thornton. Remembering her grandmother's lamentations, she thought she might be able to help the couple along faster. Elizabeth had to figure out something to do about it. But what? She could not speak to Thornton. She would just have to find some way to convince Margaret to tell John the truth herself.
….oOo….
Margaret came again a few days later. She took the chair Nicholas had offered and proceeded to inquire of Bessy how she was.
"She's a bit down in the mouth today," Nicholas answered for her, trying to politely excuse his daughter's foul mood, "Strike's been goin on too long."
"Do you blame me," Elizabeth retorted, trying to remember her lines. Looking at Margaret, she asked, "What about the Bouchers?"
"I left a basket outside the door," Margaret informed her.
"He's got less spirit than father and more mouths to feed. The masters'll try anything to get them back," Elizabeth explained to Margaret. Then, of her father, she asked, "How're you going to stop them from going to work while you all stay out?"
"We'll be persuasive," Nicholas insisted, forcefully.
Margaret and Nicholas entered into a discussion about the problems and merits of striking. Nicholas was passionate about his beliefs.
Elizabeth saw that Nicholas was getting upset and was on the verge of being rude to their guest. So she used her greatest weapon of distraction – a coughing fit. Nicholas rose to help her and, in his compassion, his anger abated. However, he still continued to complain about the strike and the mill masters.
"Is Mr. Thornton really as bad as the rest?" asked Margaret.
"He's a fighter - fierce as a bulldog," replied Nicholas.
"He's better looking, surely, than a bulldog," Margaret commented, looking mirthfully at her friend and the two girls giggled.
'At least she admits he's good looking,' thought Elizabeth.
"He'll stick to his word like a dog," Nicholas went on, ignoring their tittering, "I'll give him that. He's worth fighting with, that's the best I'll say for him. I won't argue with you miss," Nicholas conceded. "See you later lass," he said to Elizabeth and walked out the door.
"He doesn't mean to shout," Elizabeth apologized to Margaret, "They're all nerves at the minute."
"Where's he going?" Margaret asked.
"Goulden Dragon," explained Elizabeth, "he has a pint pot to calm himself sometimes. He talks so certain, but he's worried about keeping strike together. There's a lot of men and not all of them the same discipline as father."
….oOo….
The next day Elizabeth knew was the day of the riot – a very important day for Margaret and Thornton. Things would be heating up and she knew that if she were to intervene it would have to be soon.
Word of the morning's events spread quickly through Princeton and the two Higgins girls had collected all of the details by early afternoon; Boucher had instigated the riot; the gates had been broken; the master stepped out on the porch and was quickly joined by a woman, that all seemed to assume was his sister; Boucher himself threw the stone which struck the woman knocking her unconscious and drawing blood; at that point the soldiers arrived and the rioters were driven off.
Elizabeth decided she needed to see Margaret. She wanted to do something to convince her to accept Mr. Thornton's proposal which she knew would come tomorrow.
Margaret was injured, however, and would likely not wish to venture out. Elizabeth would have to do something drastic to get her friend to come. She glanced toward Mary who was working in the kitchen and threw herself into an enormous coughing fit purposely overdoing it.
Mary didn't know what to do and Nicholas could not be found. Between horrible hacking coughs, Elizabeth told her to get Miss Margaret and off the younger sister went.
A short time later the girl returned with Margaret who comforted Bessy through her coughing fits. At one point Elizabeth threw herself on Margaret's shoulder sobbing. She took the opportunity to peer up at Margaret's hairline where she could just barely see the cut made by the rock.
Between coughs Elizabeth, feeling Bessy's mortality, made of her new friend a few last requests.
"I wish to beg a strange thing," she began with the favors she knew Bessy had asked for, "I have a fancy for being buried in something of yours."
Margaret was a bit taken aback, but she smiled kindly and replied, "I will find something and bring it next time."
"About Mary," said Bessy. "I wanted to ask you to be a friend to her. She's seventeen, but she's the last on us. And I don't want her to go to the mill, and yet I dunno what she's fit for."
"I will always try and be a friend to her for your sake, Bessy. And now I must go, my parents will be waiting for me and you seem to be doing better. I will come again as soon as I can."
With that Margaret collected her things and took her leave.
'Darn it!' thought Elizabeth, 'I should have kept coughing! At least I know that she comes again to deliver the lace collar. I can make my last request then. It will be after the proposal, but it will have to do. I guess their story wouldn't be very interesting if she doesn't reject him that first time anyway.'
….oOo….
Margaret did indeed come two days later with the lace.
"And what would I be doing with something so grand as that?" teased Elizabeth.
"Please, Bessy," begged Margaret, "I wore these when I was a child."
The two of them giggled.
"They're not fit for darning," Margaret proclaimed, trying to downplay the value of the gift as Bessy's Milton sensibilities made it seem too much.
The laughter they shared made Elizabeth cough a bit.
"All right then," she conceded, "I'll keep just this one. I need to look out mind."
"Where's Nicholas?" asked Margaret.
"Oh, he's been brought so low by the way strike's gone. A committee man you know. Thought they stood a good chance this time." Elizabeth truly felt sorry for her newfound father. He was so kind to her.
"Has everyone been back to work?" Margaret inquired.
Elizabeth nodded, "They lost their spirit after the violence at Marlborough Mills. Fools! What were they thinking of throwing stones at a woman." She glanced sidelong at Margaret to watch for her reaction.
"I'm sure it wasn't so very bad," Margaret replied looking down and wringing her hands. "Whatever was done…"
"It was enough!" Elizabeth cut her off. Coughing, she added, "And father, when he's that angry with the men that broke the strike he um… You see I wish I knew where he was." Elizabeth began to cry, she had become attached to Nicholas over the past week or so, she never had a father of her own, "I've never seen him like this, Margaret. I'm worried about what he might do."
Margaret gave Bessy a hug and reminded her of her father's good sense. Elizabeth knew he and Mary would be fine, but that Bessy would die soon and maybe that would mean she would return to her own time, back to not having a father, or a sister, or a friend like Margaret.
"Margaret," implored Elizabeth, "I must make one more request of you."
"Of course," replied Margaret with sympathy, "anything. What is it?"
"It may seem a little odd," Elizabeth began haltingly, "But you will understand later."
"Alright," Margaret replied with some confusion.
"You must tell Mr. Thornton about your brother," insisted Elizabeth.
Margaret gasped. "I can't do that!" she cried, "He's a Magistrate! He could turn Fred in! He would be obliged to do so!"
"He is an honorable man," said Elizabeth, "who cares about you very much. He will listen to you and do what is right."
"But he must hate me now!" Margaret let slip, unconsciously.
Elizabeth didn't bother to ask her about this comment, already knowing what she meant.
"It is my dying wish. You must grant me my dying wish," Elizabeth grabbed Margaret's hand and punctuated her plea with much coughing. "Trust me, it will come to no harm," she promised her friend. 'Quite the opposite, in fact,' she thought to herself.
Elizabeth cried later when Margaret left, for she knew it was the last time Bessy would see her friend. She also waxed sentimental about her newfound father and sister. The few weeks she had spent here in the 19th century had given her a taste of the close-knit loving family she had grown up without. Her grandmother had been very loving, but she realized now that there was nothing like having a father and sister.
Nicholas came home that evening and had an unwelcome visitor – John Boucher. He wanted Nicholas to help hide him from the law. Nicholas was so incensed at the man since he was the one who broke the strike, that the two of them got into a shouting match which ended in a brawl.
"I'll give you up John Boucher!" Nicholas threatened the rioting strike breaker.
"Da, stop!" Elizabeth yelled from her sick bed, coughing and crying.
Nicholas came to calm his daughter down after seeing Boucher out the door. He felt bad for fighting in front of her as he knew how much she disliked it and it caused her stress which she did not need. Her coughing had been getting worse and she was getting weaker every day. He feared the end was near for his daughter. He sat on the bed and rocked her in his arms as she coughed.
Nicholas kissed his daughter goodbye the next morning on his way out to a union meeting of the special committee.
After spending the morning, what felt like, coughing up her lungs, Elizabeth knew Bessy was nearing the end. She would not see Margaret again. She would not see Nicholas again. Tears sprang into her eyes. Mary, thankfully, would be with her till the end. When her sister went to the kitchen to get her some tea, Elizabeth took out the pocket watch. She suspected her time leap was related to the watch so she repeated her Grandmother's actions from before she leapt the last time. She realized now that her grandmother must have known, and sent her back in time. Opening the watch she saw that the time had stopped. She set the time and wound the watch. Closing it she grasped the lace collar Margaret had given her and laid down, folding her hands on her chest. She suddenly felt sleepy and quickly drifted off.
….oOo….
When Elizabeth woke, she found herself back in the chair next to her grandmother's bed. She started up but then remembered what had happened. After a quick glance to see that her grandmother was well and still asleep, she picked up the book from her lap.
She flipped through the pages looking for any changes. She finally found what she was looking for in chapter 39:
Just before Mr. Thornton came up to Mrs. Boucher's door, Margaret came out of it. She did not see him; and he followed her for several yards, admiring her light and easy walk, and her tall and graceful figure. But, suddenly, this simple emotion of pleasure was tainted, poisoned by jealousy. He wished to overtake her, and speak to her, to see how she would receive him, now she must know he was aware of some other attachment. He wished too, but of this wish he was rather ashamed, that she should know that he had justified her wisdom in sending Higgins to him to ask for work; and had repented him of his morning's decision. He came up to her. She started.
"Allow me to say, Miss Hale, that you were rather premature in expressing your disappointment. I have taken Higgins on."
"I am glad of it," said she, coldly.
"He tells me, he repeated to you, what I said this morning about—" Mr. Thornton hesitated. Margaret took it up:
"About women not meddling. You had a perfect right to express your opinion, which was a very correct one, I have no doubt. But," she went on a little more eagerly, "Higgins did not quite tell you the exact truth." The word 'truth,' reminded her of her own untruth, and she stopped short, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.
Mr. Thornton at first was puzzled to account for her silence; and then he remembered the lie she had told, and all that was foregone. "The exact truth!" said he. "Very few people do speak the exact truth. I have given up hoping for it. Miss Hale, have you no explanation to give me? You must perceive what I cannot but think."
Margaret was silent. She was wondering whether an explanation of any kind would be consistent with her loyalty to Frederick. Then she remembered Bessy's dying wish. He opened his mouth to speak again but she cut him off.
"Mr. Thornton, I wish to explain," she started, then hesitated, contemplating what to say. He waited patiently.
She remembered Bessy's words, 'He will listen to you and do what is right… Trust me it will come to no harm.' She took a deep breath and prayed, that wherever Bessy was, she was right.
She looked down and began to wring her hands. "The man I was with that night," she confessed haltingly, "He – he is my brother."
First confusion, then realization washed over his features.
'It was her brother,' said Mr. Thornton to himself. 'I am glad. I knew she could not be unmaidenly.'
When he did not reply right away, she went on, "He was here to visit our dying mother." At the thought of her deceased mother and her long-lost brother, on top of the recollection of Bessy, Margaret's countenance fell and her shoulders slumped. Tears welled up in her eyes.
As he looked past her the questions began to flood Mr. Thornton's mind. "Your brother?" he asked, brow furrowing. His eyes glanced all around, "Why have I not heard of him before? Why did not you tell me sooner?"
When his gaze finally fell on her, he saw her mournful sadness. His immense compassion for her returned and he decided to drop his interrogation. "Nay," said he, sympathetically, "I will ask no farther." 'I yearned for conviction,' thought he to himself, 'and I have it, that is enough. Now I am glad! But this poor creature, who means so much to me, is still in mourning and carries so many burdens.'
Margaret was overcome with a great sense of relief. The burden of her secret had been lifted and when she met his eyes she felt the tension between them dissolve.
He smiled kindly on her and took her hand, looping it through his arm. "Miss, Hale," said he, "please allow me to escort you home."
She did not resist. In fact, she felt great comfort in the gesture and leaned on him the whole silent walk to Crampton.
He saw her to the door and they bid each other "Good day." However, as he turned to go Margaret recalled his attention. "Mr. Thornton," said she, "I would be greatly honored if you would come to tea tomorrow."
His lips curved upward slightly and he nodded, saying, "It would be my pleasure, Miss Hale. I will see you tomorrow." With that he turned to go.
Margaret watched him as he walked down the street. Before he turned the corner he looked back and caught her eye. He tipped his hat and was gone.
….oOo….
Elizabeth was roused out of her literary reverie by a surprising question from her grandmother. The elderly lady must have awoken while she was reading and was now sitting up in bed watching her.
"Well," she inquired, "Did you fix it?"
"What?" asked Elizabeth confused.
"When you found the watch, I knew what would happen," the old woman explained, "Were you able to fix what I could not?"
Elizabeth smiled and said, "I do believe I did." She proceeded to read the rest of the book to her grandmother, where they found that John and Margaret's happily ever after came considerably sooner and without so much agony.
….oOo….
A/N: I may consider continuing this story, as in, telling what happened with John and Margaret, if my muse inspires me.
