Chapter Five: Scotland and Henry Lennox
Henry, Mrs. Lennox, and Margaret arrived in Scotland on the last train of the night. The journey from Milton to Balloch, Loch Lomond, had taken almost twelve hours, and the travelers were weary from their long trip.
Henry helped the ladies from the train and hailed a porter to retrieve their luggage. Henry had sent a letter ahead informing the staff at Lennox House the predicted time of their arrival, so a carriage was waiting to take them home. Lennox House was only three miles from town, so the final leg of the trip was short.
Lennox House was built in the Baronial Revival style. Margaret realized in the darkness of the night and her exhaustion, only that it was quite grand. When she entered the house, she gasped at the spaciousness and grandeur. It was exquisitely beautiful!
Margaret was shown to her room, and her trunk was brought in. A maid, Moriah, rummaged through Margaret's things and found the nightgown she was searching for. She quickly helped Margaret dress for bed, brushed her hair, and Margaret was nearly asleep by the time her head laid on the pillow. She slept deeply in her exhaustion and did not wake until late the next morning.
Moriah knocked on the door to see if Margaret was ready to dress. Margaret only had two mourning dresses, and so she had little choice but to wear the only clean one. Soon, she was dressed, and Moriah did her hair in a lovely style.
Before going downstairs to join Henry and Mother Lennox, Margaret discovered the French doors that opened onto a stone balcony. She stepped out and was enchanted by the view before her. The estate had lovely gardens, and before her were formal gardens with stone benches and nearly trimmed bushes. To the right of the formal gardens, was a smaller but even more beautiful rose garden. There were roses in all shades of pinks and yellows.
Margaret vowed to ask Henry to show her the gardens after breakfast.
Moriah showed Margaret to the dining room. Henry and Mother Lennox were already having tea, and both greeted her when she entered the room. Henry got up to seat Margaret.
Mother Lennox asked, "Did you rest well, Margaret?"
Margaret smiled at her, "I did, and I think I was asleep the moment I laid my head on the pillow. My room is very beautiful. Yellow is my favorite color and the touches of blue in the wallpaper are the perfect compliment."
"I thought it might suit you. Henry had told me of your fondness for the yellow roses of Helstone. He said they grew wild on the property surrounding the vicarage."
"Yes, they did, and Mother loved them as well. She would fill vases with them around our house, and the rooms would be filled with their lovely fragrance."
Margaret was reminded of her desire to see the gardens outside her window, "Henry, will you take on a tour of the gardens this morning, if you can spare the time?"
He smiled at her, "I would be delighted, and we shall go as soon as we have finished eating. While I am here, my time is all yours, Margaret."
Mother Lennox had noticed that Margaret's black gown she was wearing yesterday was quite worn and outdated.
"Margaret, my dear, I have taken the liberty to send a note off to the draper in the village to come tomorrow to fit you for a few more black dresses. I also will ask her to make a few skirts and summer blouses for you since you will be departing our cold climes to a much warmer one. I have been to Spain, and it is ghastly hot there at times. You will not be comfortable there in your wool and bombazine."
"Thank you, the new garments will be welcome."
The day passed pleasantly with a long walk through the gardens, and Henry had a carriage hitched in the afternoon to take Margaret to see Loch Lomond. It was a breathtaking visage, and Margaret marveled at the clearness of the sparkling blue water. Not even in the New Forest, had she ever seen such beauty.
Margaret went upstairs to rest before dinner. Moriah knocked and woke Margaret from her nap.
"Miss, I have taken the liberty of cleaning your gown from yesterday. Mrs. Lennox has sent a lovely lace collar and cuffs for you to wear with it." Margaret was touched that Mother Lennox would bestow such care on her, but she was not all surprised. Henry's mother was kind and generous.
Margaret had just made her way to the drawing room when a servant announced dinner, and Henry escorted the two women he loved best in this world to the table. Dinner was delicious, and Margaret found she had a small appetite. She did her best to contribute to the conversation, but the truth was, she was still very tired.
Mother Lennox noticed, and after dinner, she suggested Margaret go to her room to retire for the evening. Margaret was relieved and followed the maid up to her room to get ready for bed.
It was chilly, and Margaret's thin robe did little to protect her from the cold, but she stepped out on the balcony to look at the stars. She had not had such a clear view of the heavens since she left Helstone and her girlhood behind. Surely, the sky was not clear enough in Milton for such a magnificent view.
Margaret stepped back into her room and warmed herself by the roaring fire. Here, the fires were fueled by wood, unlike in Milton where most homes were heated by coal. Even surrounded by the beauty and warmth of this room, Margaret would have traded it all for just one more evening in the cozy drawing room of the Crampton house with both her mother and father for company.
Margaret stared into the flames, and she wondered what John Thornton was doing at that moment. It was early evening, so she guessed he might still be at the mill toiling away at his desk. She felt a twinge of guilt knowing that by taking her to Oxford, he had lost an extra workday at the mill.
Her weariness was threatening to claim her, so she climbed into her warm bed, and fell asleep.
The rest of the week was exactly what Margaret needed. Henry took her on long walks in the countryside, and once, surprised her with a picnic. He talked to her about the money she would be receiving each quarter from her mother's inheritance. Henry said he had been managing it for some time, and when he got back to London, he would see to her father's will. Margaret had not known that her father even had a will, but she did not believe there was much money left to her.
Margaret had been in Scotland a week when Mother Lennox brought a letter to her. It was from John Thornton, and Margaret felt her heartbeat quicken when she ran her hand across his handwriting.
Mother Lennox, ever tactful, told Margaret that she and Henry would leave her to read the letter in privacy.
"Margaret, we will be in the drawing room when you are ready to join us."
Margaret sat down on the settee and carefully broke the seal on the letter.
My dear Miss Hale,
I hope this letter finds you well and settled in Scotland.
Milton is not the same without you. You have only been gone three days, but it seems like three months. I have gone to the Crampton house the last two evenings to help Dixon with the final disposal of your family possessions. There is to be an auction on Friday morning, and afterwards, I will put Dixon on the 11:oo a.m. train to Scotland. It may surprise you to know that I have come to appreciate your Dixon. She loves you so dearly, and your brother as well. She delights in telling me stories of the two of you as children.
Miss Hale, your letter meant more than I can express in words. I know your heart is filled with grief, and there are many changes to come in your life, but please know that my love for you is constant as is my friendship, no matter what you discover when the shroud of grief lifts from your heart. I am just a letter away if you want to write your thoughts out as you grieve. I find it helps to do that sometimes.
I am working long hours each day. The mill has yet to recover from the strike, and I have begun to fear that I will not be able to save it. I will do all I can for the workers I employ to keep the mill in operation.
Please write to me if you feel inclined. I would welcome your letters. Any word from you would lessen the dreary and monotonous days of my life.
Higgins sent his regards.
If you write to me, I will ask that you send your letters directly to the mill.
Yours always,
John Thornton
Margaret felt tears stinging her eyes when she thought of Mr. Thornton and the dreariness of his days. She would pray the mill would recover soon, and his financial worries would be over. Margaret put the letter in her pocket and joined Henry and Mother Lennox for tea.
Henry stood when Margaret entered the room and smiled at the woman he loved with all his heart. He knew that she had received a letter from his rival, but he was at an advantage, at least for a few days yet.
"Henry, Dixon will here tomorrow night. Mr. Thornton said he will see her to the 11:00 a.m. train in the morning."
Mother Lennox watched her son and Margaret together. It was clear that Margaret did not return her son's love, but instead, it seemed to her that Margaret felt an affection for Henry as a dear and trusted friend. As a mother, she could only hope for her son's sake, that Margaret might come to care about Henry the way he cared for her.
Later that night, Henry sat before the fire, brandy in hand, and thought about his future. He was to leave for London on Sunday, and although he wanted to ask for Margaret's hand before he left, he knew she was not ready. He had made the mistake of offering for her once before without a formal courtship, and he knew he would not receive a favorable answer if he asked her now. Tucked away in his safe, was the diamond ring his father had given his mother the evening they became engaged. He hoped to put it on Margaret's finger soon, but he knew he had to be patient.
He loved her the first time he proposed, but it was not the powerful love he felt for her now. If she rejected him this time, he would be deeply hurt. He begrudgingly acknowledged that she had feelings for Thornton, but Henry would work to win her heart. Henry knew that once Margaret gave her heart, she would give it entirely.
The next morning dawned bright and Margaret awoke with a smile on her face. Dixon would arrive today, and Margaret found she had missed her.
Mother Lennox and Henry were deep in conversation when Margaret appeared at breakfast, but both smiled at her when she joined them.
Henry stood and helped Margaret to her seat. "You are looking well, Margaret. Is that one of your new dresses?"
The dress was black, but had beautiful lace sewn around the neckline and cuffs. There were tiny black pearls sewn into the lace, and Margaret looked fetching in it.
"Henry, I believe I could wear a muslin sack and you would think I looked well in it." Margaret teased.
"I won't argue that. You are a beautiful woman, Margaret, and would look well in anything."
Margaret blushed and felt embarrassed, so she decided to change the subject. "Henry, might we talk a walk down to the lake on this glorious morning?"
"Yes, we may, and Mother, would you care to join us?"
"It is a long walk, and I fear such distances are only for the young. You go and enjoy yourself."
Henry and Margaret took a long and invigorating walk to the small lake on the property.
Margaret turned to Henry, "What an idyllic setting for a home and to raise a family. Did you and your siblings spend a great deal of time exploring the property and getting into all kinds of mischief as children?"
Henry smiled as he remembered his childhood, "Yes, we did. Of course, Maxwell and I were sent to Eaton to school when we were still young lads, but we spent our holidays here and our summer vacations.
"I was sent to live with Aunt Shaw and Edith when I was only nine. I missed the New Forest more than I can say, and as much as I love my London family, I never felt at home there as I did in Helstone."
Henry remembered the beautiful hamlet from his visit there after his brother's marriage. "The countryside suits you well, Margaret."
Margaret and Henry stopped to sit on a bench shaded by a huge willow tree.
Margaret took in the beauty around her, and said, 'Before moving to Milton, I would have agreed with you. I love the country and would gladly spend holidays and summers in such an idyllic place. However, Henry, I have learned that I need a purpose, a way to make a difference in the lives of the less fortunate. I am a vicar's daughter and I suppose it is just intrinsic in my nature."
Henry was intrigued, "Tell me more about your life in Milton."
Margaret's face clouded with sorrow, but she wanted Henry to understand her better, "Milton is a harsh town, and there is a great disparity between those with money and the working poor. My sympathies were with the working poor, and I did all I could to help them. My only true friend in Milton was a worker named Bessie Higgins. She died at the age of nineteen from brown lung."
Henry urged her to continue on, "I did not fit in Milton society. I disdained the new money attitudes of excess and selfishness, and I could not understand the relationship between master and worker. It was not until I got to know Mr. Thornton better, that I realized how ignorant I was of the plight of the master because I was so focused on the hard lives of the workers."
Henry asked, "Is Mr. Thornton a good master in your opinion?"
'Yes, he is. He is the kindest man, Henry, and yet, he is a hard businessman. He is a man whose education was curtailed due to his father's suicide when he was only fourteen, but as a grown man, he was my father's star pupil. Papa used to say that there is no telling what Mr. Thornton could have made of his life if his education had not been so cruelly interrupted."
Henry had to ask, "So you admire Mr. Thornton, Margaret?"
Margaret met Henry's eyes and said, "I do, and he has been a very kind friend to me, just as you have."
Henry needed to tread carefully or lose any chance he had of winning her hand, "I hope someday you will consider me as more than a friend, Margaret, but I know your heart is not ready to consider it just yet."
Margaret stood and started walking to the shore of the lake. She gazed at the ripples of blue water as the breeze touched the surface of the clear lake. Henry had unsettled her because she knew he loved her in a way she did not love him. She had no wish to hurt anyone, but she did not know her heart yet.
Henry joined Margaret and asked if she was ready to go back to the house for lunch. The two made their way back without more conversation; both were occupied with their own thoughts.
