Chapter 5
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter! I really enjoyed writing it. I felt that despite her breakdowns, Margaret would still have enough of her mind to know what was causing all these overwhelming emotions. She would have felt to some degree that her position as a woman in the society she lived in would have been very unjust, as she was less able to defend herself against gossip and other things. Anyhow – I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please review!
Mr Thornton,
I hope that this letter finds you in good cheer. I must thank you sincerely for returning our Father's book. Being able to sit and read the book to Margaret while she sews or knits brings back precious childhood memories, of father reading to us or giving us a lesson while Margaret helped mother with her embroidery. It calms her a good deal.
I grow more confident that Margaret will recover from her illness. The most serious problem we have is that she cannot bear solitude. She panics if she is left alone in a room for more than a minute and cannot bear to have me out of her sight. She's taken to conducting conversations with me through the door of the privy room! Mr Bell currently visits every day and she watches him like a hawk, convinced he will vanish if she relents for even a moment. Dear Dixon is kept up well into the early hours as Margaret tries her best to avoid sleep and engages her in all manner of conversations. I will have to find the means to increase her pay if this does not desist, she bears it so admirably.
Margaret also has a long way to go to recover physically. Almost 6 months of a vastly reduced diet has weakened her greatly, and she often suffers from dizziness or fainting spells. It has also weakened her usually impermeable constitution a good deal, and she is currently laid up with a cold that she cannot throw off. We beg her to take to her bed, but I think you know Margaret well enough to know how she responds when she doesn't want to do something! I, however, bear these small rebellions with optimism. If she is well enough to argue with me, then all is not lost, and we can all agree I am hardly one to lecture others on the importance of obedience!
Should you and your family ever find yourselves in London, you are welcome to call upon us at any time convenient.
God Bless you Sir,
Fred Hale.
That letter was still tucked into John's coat pocket when he departed for London a few weeks later. Mr Bell had written to ask for a meeting, imploring him to come before he was off on some holiday or other. Mr Thornton agreed, though the purpose of the meeting he could not fathom. He had brought his mother and sister along. Fanny had recently announced that she was expecting, and John knew he would not hear the end of her complaining if he denied her the opportunity to visit London before she was too large to travel at all. His mother, who usually harboured an aversion to large cities, agreed to come to care for Fanny, and because her son begged not to be left alone with his sister. She often marvelled that she could not have produced two more opposite creatures if she tried. They passed their journey in as agreeable a manner as could be managed, given that Fanny only wanted to drone on about baby names, baby clothes, baby toys, nurseries, furniture, christening arrangements and all the things John could not bear another minute of. Given that it would be indecorous to shout at an expecting woman, he resigned himself to staring out of the window and nodding blankly every few minutes.
Meanwhile, in London, the Hale siblings were passing their morning in a far more cordial manner. Margaret's cold was finally starting to abate, bar a rattling cough. As a treat, and in preparation for her journey to Helstone, Aunt Shaw had arranged for a special seamstress to visit them at their home and measure Margaret for some new clothes. Her and Edith were currently poring over her book of fabric samples, giggling like schoolgirls. Fred was absorbed in a letter from his Dolores, who assured him that she was bearing their separation with good cheer and only wished for her sister's recovery, also bidding him to pass along her gift. He opened the small package she enclosed and smiled cheerfully.
"Migsy!" he called gently. Margaret turned and looked enquiringly at him. It was no small matter to distract a woman from the task of choosing fabric for dresses!
"Dolores has sent you a most pretty sample of Spanish lace – would you like it for adorning one of your fine new dresses?"
Margaret immediately came to his side, and he proffered the sample for her inspection. Her eyes lit up at such a gift as she gently turned it over in her hands. However, her countenance soon became rather forlorn.
"Migs, whatever is the matter?"
"It is such a kind gift and so generous. It seems poor that I have thanked her by being the reason for her continued separation from her husband," she mumbled, staring sadly at the floor.
"Oh no Migsy, do not think like that. Dolores and I were prepared for a long separation when I departed. I was not thinking of sending for her until I could set up in a home of my own. It will be a mammoth task to set up a home worthy of a wife such as her. She and I are utterly united in our wish that you first make a complete recovery." The adoration for his wife and sister was plain on his face, and it cheered Margaret.
"She is fortunate to have a husband such as you, dear brother"
"Oh no my dear, I am the fortunate one. She made those years in exile all the more bearable. I would be lost without her love, just as I was lost without you. I must admit, I had been entertaining the notion that the three of us could all move into a house together"
"That would be lovely Fred, but I fear I would only be terribly underfoot. I would not wish to intrude on a married couple's happiness," Fred waved off her misgivings.
"Nonsense Migs. Those years away from you and our parents were torture, believe me when I say I am never letting you out of my sight again," he teased her "Dolores has also never had a sister, I know she would be delighted to share that bond with a sister such as you"
Margaret blushed, and then fixed her brother with a sharp glance as a thought occurred to her.
"I understand your meaning, dear brother," she mock glared at him, "You mean to invite the spinster Aunt to live with you, so that when Dolores gives you children, you never need go to the expense of a nanny's wage!"
Fred clasped his hands over his chest as though his sister had stabbed him and gave her his most innocent gaze.
"My sister wounds me! How could she accuse me of such paltriness?" he cried to the heavens.
These theatrics caused Margaret and Edith to collapse into helpless giggles, until Margaret broke off in a fit of coughing, sending Edith scrambling for another treatment of hot vapours.
The next day, over in his solicitor's office, Mr Bell shuffled his papers and waited for the arrival of Mr Thornton. Presently, that gentleman arrived, shown into the room by one of the junior clerks.
"Apologies for the delay Sir, I was ensuring my mother and sister were well settled at the hotel"
"No need to apologise Sir, we are just waiting for one more addition to our party"
After a few minutes, the door clicked open again, and the junior clerk showed Fred into the room.
"Fred, so glad you found the place! Mr Thornton, I understand you have already made your acquaintance with my godson, Frederick Hale?"
"I have indeed had the pleasure. Good to see you Fred" John replied earnestly, extending his hand to Fred, who grasped it firmly.
"And you John. How are your family?"
"They are well. My sister is expecting, although from her complaining, you would think she was the first woman ever to be so," he replied with a hard roll of his eyes. "How is Margaret?" He added. Fred smiled in reply.
"You can see for yourself later, if you wish. I am bidden by our Aunt to invite you for lunch after this meeting. Meaning no rudeness, but I am told the invitation is only to be extended to you. Aunt does not wish to overwhelm Margaret with an influx of Thorntons just yet" Fred explained apologetically.
"No offense taken. Fanny would probably chew everyone's ear off about the trials of childbearing and Mother is ill at ease in London society. They can call on Margaret separately if she wishes it," Thornton replied. Mr Bell and Fred both smiled at this ever-accommodating gentleman.
"Excellent gentlemen, excellent. Shall we settle to this tedious business?"
All the gentlemen took their seats, and Mr Bell turned to face Mr Thornton.
"The main reason I called you here Thornton, was to inform you of a change in Landlord, and allow you to look over the new paperwork" Mr Thornton gazed at the older gentleman quizzically.
"I'll not bore you with the gruesome details. My doctor informed me that I am suffering from a wasting illness. I am using my remaining time to set my affairs in order before sailing to meet a peaceful demise in Argentina"
Mr Thornton could only stare agape at this pronouncement.
"I am… sorry to hear of your… condition Sir," he replied, not sure which words were appropriate to express what he was feeling. Mr Bell waved off his sympathies.
"Do not distress yourself. It is a rare luxury that a man be able to prepare so diligently for his death. I am blessed indeed. That brings me to the point of said affairs, which is why I have invited dear Fred"
Fred glanced at him sheepishly. John grew ever more puzzled.
"Upon the death of my friend Hale, I knew it was only correct to make Margaret the sole heiress of my fortunes. I have of course never married or sired progeny of my own and I promised Hale that his cherished daughter would want for nothing. Now, Fred and I can vouch that she has improved incredibly over the last few weeks, but no court of law will readily pronounce her of sound mind just yet. Once the label of insanity has been applied, it is incredibly hard to shake off, if it is possible at all," Mr Bell began, grimacing at the hurdles his goddaughter would likely be jumping for the rest of her life.
"Thankfully, the Lord taketh away, but he also, in his mercy, giveth. Fred's fortuitous redemption and return to England means I am able to appoint him as the trustee for Margaret's inheritance, rather than making her forfeit it altogether, or risk placing her at the mercy of some underhanded solicitor who would abuse his power"
"As you are aware Mr. Thornton, my properties include your beloved Malborough Mills and that grand house of yours. The deeds would be transferred to Fred and Margaret names, but I can assure you that they are landlords in name only. Fred is, by his admission, not likely to bother you much"
Fred smiled sheepishly "My knowledge of cotton and manufacturing is woefully low. I would be more hindrance than help"
"So it is agreed. Mr Thornton can continue his marvellous work and hope one day to educate us fluff-headed southerners on the importance of the cotton trade!" Mr Bell intoned joyfully. The smile however, slid off his face when he caught sight of Mr Thornton's face.
"Your faith in my 'marvellous work' may be slightly misplaced gentlemen. I must confess that I am bidden to another meeting while I am in London. I must meet with the bank"
"Do tell, Mr Thornton"
"Malborough Mills has struggled to recover in the wake of the strikes. A cooler summer has meant that cotton has not been in high demand, so buyers have been unable to pay their bills. Others are withholding payment due to incomplete or late orders as a result of the strike. The bank is also unwilling to extend repayment of the debts I already have, so I must find another investor or I shall be forced to close the mill"
"That is grave news indeed Mr. Thornton. I understand that your brother in law, Watson, had some sort of investment scheme? Some speculation or other?"
"I could not do it Mr Bell. Speculation has been the undoing of my family once. I could not risk making the same mistakes as my father. I could not bring myself to do it. I did not invest in the speculation"
He looked up and was incredibly confused to find Mr Bell simply smiling back at him. A glance to his right told him that Fred was just as confused as he was.
"Fortunately for you Mr Thornton, I did. Now Frederick, would you be terribly cross if my final act as landlord of Malborough Mills would be to make a loan to Mr. Thornton, in order to keep his mill running? It would not be good for you or Margaret if your first act as landlord was to be to look for new tenants!"
Fred was smiling jovially "I would not dare risk my sister's ire by refusing. She would be most distressed for her friends who rely on the mill for their livelihoods. Will there still be sufficient funds for her care?"
"I would pay back every penny I owe, Fred"
"There will still be plenty of funds for you and your sister, not to mention the incomes from rent on my other properties. Investing this money in Mr. Thornton would also guarantee you a better rate of repayment than allowing it to fester in a bank"
"Then I am in complete agreement with you, Mr. Bell. Do what you will"
"I will accept on one more condition, as well as being allowed to repay the loan in full"
"Oh? Do humour us Sir"
"That Fred or Margaret, or both of them, visit the mill at least once a year. They are the landlords; they should keep themselves appraised of its progress"
Mr Bell and Fred stared at each other curiously. Such an enigma, this gentleman.
"It's a rare man that makes conditions for his acceptance of a loan. Very well Mr. Thornton, if that condition is so very important, then I promise that a Hale shall always travel to Milton at least once a year to poke around your beloved mill, for all the years to come!"
Business with Mr Bell concluded, Mr Thornton and Fred both having signed the new paperwork, those two gentlemen continued on to attend Mr Thornton's meeting with the bank. The details of the new loan were hashed out to the clerks, who accepted Mr Thornton's unexpected windfall with very few questions.
For the first time in months, John Thornton allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope. Just a few weeks ago, he had been facing financial ruin and the loss of his life's work. He had also been desperately worried about Margaret, wondering if she was finally starting to find her way out of the dark cloud that had consumed her mind. Here he was now, the capital to maintain his business secure, and on his way to an afternoon with Margaret, who had improved by all accounts. He could not have wished for a better outcome if he had written it himself.
Fred, however, knew something was wrong the moment they set foot in the door. Aunt Shaw and Edith had said they would all be awaiting their return in the small parlour. Yet, the entire lower floor was vacant save for the servants. He and Mr Bell were beginning to exchange worried glances when Dixon came puffing down the stairs.
"There you are Fred. Mr Bell, Mr Thornton, I am bidden to show you to the parlour where you'll have to wait, I am afraid. Miss Hale has urgent need of her brother's presence in her rooms"
Fred hurled himself up the stairs to deal with whatever emergency had arisen in his absence, leaving a bewildered Bell and Thornton to be shepherded into the parlour by Dixon. Thornton's heart sank, fearing the worst. However, with Dixon remaining tight lipped about whatever was occurring upstairs, there was little he and Mr. Bell could do except wait.
Fred burst through the doors to Margaret's sitting room with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, where he found her hyperventilating on the floor, with Aunt Shaw holding her in a tight embrace and Edith fanning her gently while whispering comforting words.
"Migsy! Whatever is the matter pet?" Fred exclaimed, pausing to catch his breath. What happened next was a complete shock to everyone.
Margaret's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. She was on her feet in a whirl of muslin and ribbon, knocking her Aunt and cousin over with a loud thud. This she was oblivious to as she strode across the room, and right there and then, struck her brother across the face.
"Where WERE you?!" she screeched, loud enough for perhaps all of Harley Street to hear. Fred, paralysed with shock, could only clutch his cheek and stare at her agape.
Edith had pulled herself to her feet and was determined to take the situation in hand.
"I am so sorry Fred, one of the messenger boys came back to the house clamouring about some carriage accident that had occurred. We were all worried, and then you failed to return to the house at the agreed upon time…" she gestured rather helplessly at Margaret, who was still glowering at Fred, who realised his error with a sinking heart. Margaret had only expected him to be gone for the meeting with Mr. Bell. Diverting to the bank with Mr. Thornton had added a whole hour to his outing and he had not sent word ahead. Throwing in the boy making some noise about a carriage accident had predictably sent Margaret over the edge with worry.
"I am so sorry Migs. Mr Bell required our attention on another matter. I should have sent word ahead when I knew I would be delayed. Please do not distress yourself pet"
"Distress myself?! How can I do little else, when my brother seems to care so little that he cannot send word that he will be delayed and leaves us here to assume the worst? Do you know what it feels like to wonder if you will ever see someone again every single time they leave the house? To be so afraid to let anyone out of your sight – convinced they will disappear in a puff of smoke? The image already torments my dreams Fred, do not let it become my reality," she begged, sinking to the floor as she was overcome with gasping sobs.
His poor sister. For all her outward improvement, she was still waging war on the inner forces that tormented her sleep and employed all tactics to creep into her waking moments.
He merely dropped to the floor beneath her and drew her into his chest, one hand across her shoulders and the other clutched in her hair. He murmured softly, rocking her until her sobs mellowed down into slow, deep breaths.
Unknown to them, Mr Bell and Mr Thornton received a tip off from Simpson that it was safe to proceed upstairs. Mr Bell waved the other gentleman in front of him, and so it was that Mr. Thornton appeared in the doorway, as Frederick lifted Margaret off the floor, and she pulled him in for a gentle embrace, murmuring apologies for the faint handprint now emblazoned across his cheek. Her eyes locked with Mr. Thornton over her brother's shoulder.
Of all the reactions they had anticipated, screaming wasn't one of them.
A/N: Please no hate. I'm off on holiday for a few days, so I will hopefully be able to start on the next chapter when I'm back. I also recently saw the new Emma adaptation. What were everyone's thoughts?