The cavalry arrives
"Come! Let us make that bargain. Think of me at my best, if circumstances should ever part us!"
― Charles Dickens
-00—
Someone was shaking him awake. "Master – Master!"
He opened his eyes to see Nicholas Higgins bending over him, and behind him, Margaret. His heart made a single throb of joy to see her there, before it remembered and hurt him with savage, betrayed pain. She was in her mourning dress once more. Dear god, nearly everything she loved had been taken away from her by a fate which had clothed her in misery. And now he was going to take away one more.
"I was getting worried," she said, "as I had heard nothing from you." No reproach, only concern.
He took a deep breath. "I apologise. There were matters - "
"Are ye all right, Master?" sharp-eyed Higgins said.
Thornton nearly laughed.
"I owe you thanks for this morning, Higgins. I must see you. There is news on the Mill's future. But keep it to yourself for now."
Seeing from the Master's pallor, drawn up to his haughtiest pose with his last vestige of pride, it was not difficult to see what sort of news this would be. Higgins looked at him for a moment, gave a little nod. "Miss Margaret – if you need me or Mary, you know where we are."
"Thank you, Nicholas," she replied, so warmly Thornton's head dropped for a moment.
When they were alone he faced her with great courage. He was not going to play for time. She knew something was up, she was so sensitive to him, she did not come near him as she had this morning. She simply waited to hear what he had to say, her face serious, her manner quiet, hands folded in front of herself.
He made a few routine courtesies enquiring about her state of mind, to which she routinely replied, and then he began on it.
"I have something to tell you, Miss Hale, and it can't be put off – "
"About the Mill?" she interrupted. She was so pale, whitefaced and stricken; he did not realise he was also. "I heard from Nicholas that the orders have not been fulfilled, despite all your efforts?"
"Nowhere near; but that is not what –"
"Oh! Mr Bell is here!" Margaret had spotted, through the window-glass, the hazy figure of her godfather swimming into focus as he came nearer.
Elbows on the desk, Thornton propped his forehead on his hands. All he needed. Come to witness the execution?
Bell came in smartly, almost at a trot, removed his hat, his gloves, and laid them on the table. "I hope I'm not interrupting," he breezily said, and then his sharp, sharp eyes narrowed in on Thornton, "Well in a way, I hope I am... Thornton, poursuivant our conversation of earlier... " his eyes seemed to be trying to communicate some lively information, flicking this way and that. Thornton drew his brows darkly down. "You had not begun on that message you planned for Margaret?"
"What do you mean, Mr Bell?" Margaret asked, puzzled.
"My dear, Thornton was to tell you there was no hope for his continuing tenancy of the Mill," Bell said smoothly, "A difficult message to convey, and I doubt he was looking forward to it, but he faced up to it bravely, I must say. But I have been having a think this afternoon, little Miss Margaret! Now, listen, my dear – he sat in a chair, taking her hands and drawing her near him – "I have been looking over your father's affairs today, as his executor, a sad, sad duty but it had to be done; and it occurred to me, that as his oldest friend... as protector of his daughter.. poor Charles would very much have liked it if I was to arrange some financial security for my goddaughter in the event of his untimely death. Indeed, he would have expected it."
He paused and looked up into her face, a warm, great affection on his. "Margaret – I am going to give you a ... present. No, not that sort of present – when you were a little girl I used to bring you sweets and you would look in my bag for them, do you remember? but you will find none there today – this is not that sort of gift. I am making ownership of Marlborough Mill over to you, along with a monetary portion of my estate. It is quite an asset to have, for it turns over a good profit yearly when times are good, and they shall be good again, shan't they, Thornton? No, no, my dear, say nothing till I finish – I intend for you to have it now, while it is useful for you; I have arranged it with my solicitor this afternoon. Here are the papers – " he presented her with a sheaf from his inner pocket, laying them into her hands, over which her stunned head bent. "There. It is yours. It only requires your signature."
"I cannot offer to help you with the running of it," he added. "I have always disliked it intensely – " said with humour – "so you will have to employ a Master... just as I have done these years. I might say," he added, "you could do no better than this one here," his enigmatic gaze flicked to Thornton – "if you don't mind my saying so - he has quite the unusual qualities - but that will be up to you, to see to as you wish. Whatever you decide, I am sure Thornton here will help you with understanding, there is nothing he does not know about the place and how to run it. Your estate includes Marlborough House of course, and a number of other dwellings, so you must decide what to do with the incumbents. You could leave them as they are and it would do no harm, but that is for you to decide."
"Mr Bell," she said slowly, "I don't know what to say. It is so incredibly generous of you, I – "
"It is my last gift for my old friend, and his lovely daughter, of whom I am very fond," Bell said with warm, elegant courtesy. "Now, don't start crying my dear – in fact I must leave you now and begin on my own preparations, for once everything is settled and I know you are looked after – I am going to take a tour of South America while I am still well enough to travel – I am beginning to feel my years."
After a long, warm embrace with Margaret, at the door he turned and paused: "Good luck, Thornton!" he said crisply. "Oh – " as if an afterthought – "walk with me a little way outside, will you? No, not you, Margaret – we have said our goodbyes, and I dislike goodbyes, I will not willingly go through it again... Think of me sometimes, when you are happy... that is all I ask."
Outside in the empty yard, Thornton's hard, sharp gaze on his face, he spread his hands in a what can I say? gesture. "No tricks from me, Thornton...I always meant her to have it, you know. I had hoped to give it to her in a ... more direct manner... but then I realised that alas! she had fallen for a prettier face than mine. And – " he brought his silver head closer to the younger man's dark one – "not only had I been, I think...unkind... to an honourable man - I kept thinking of his own words... Does Miss Hale get a say in this? Well, now Margaret shall have her say."
They shook hands. Letting go, he clapped his hat briskly on his head and began to walk away. He would not embarrass the man by letting on that he had noticed Thornton's usually warm, strong grip was shaky and he was hardly holding himself upright.
He said without turning, "Look after her, Thornton. I really am very fond of her, you know."
-00—
Phew! This is a canon-ish resolution, as Mr Bell in-series did indeed have hopes that M would take him, and then did indeed do the right thing in the end. Thank you so very much to those of you who have left a review or a follow! I am genuinely delighted by every one. I wish I could reply to them, but most are guests or have disabled replies; believe me I do read every single one and treasure it.
Well, now the way is clear for our lovers to begin the first step onto their HEA...