So clearly I am obsessed with the Fred/Margaret dynamic, as this is another little one shot that's been bouncing around. If you want excellent John/Margaret stories, I do recommend DarkPartofMyDestiny's A Life Together and its sister work An Earlier Heaven, or Foolish Passions by ElizabethHades. There are honestly so many, this is a very creative community.
This takes place in the canon universe, so no magical hijinks I'm afraid. In this one there was no mutiny and therefore Fred is not a wanted man, so I imagined what his homecoming might be like if he were just a regular officer. With a bit of added drama because, come on, it's me.
For those following CWBWA - be patient for the next chapter. It's going to cover the wedding, and I want to do it justice. It is coming!
Shout out to my military historian partner who helped with some of the real-life history.
Come Home
"If you had a son like mine Mrs Hale, you would not be embarrassed to sing his praises," Mrs Thornton retorted, standing to leave. The response was not quite what she expected. Mrs Hale at once clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a sudden wail of misery and departed the room at great speed. Miss Hale did not linger long but gave Mrs Thornton a look of great anxiety.
"I must apologise Mrs Thornton; I must attend Mama… Dixon will be able to see you out. We shall return your call when we are able. Forgive me… I cannot explain things this very moment" she gave them a polite nod and hurried after her mother.
"And then they both run out of the room… just like that! Not so much as a farewell, left us at the mercy of a servant! Helstone people must have no fine manners," a greatly disgruntled Fanny was later regaling her brother with an account of their visit to those mysterious newcomers. To her great surprise, John was not agreeing with her about how uncouth these new people were, but instead gazing at the floor, looking rather tense. He had not long returned from a lesson with Mr Hale, having had no time to see his mother and sister before he left.
"Mr Hale did explain some of their circumstances to me during our lesson. He knew you and Mother would be wanting an explanation"
Fanny had been about to continue on her great tirade, but her curiosity was piqued by the chance for new gossip. Even Mrs Thornton had put down her needlework to listen.
"It seems Margaret is not the only child. Mr and Mrs Hale do indeed also have a son, an officer in the Navy" Ignoring Fanny's quiet gasp, he continued.
"He sailed with his fleet some six months ago, bidden to escort troops to the Crimean Peninsula. The reports state they reached their destination on time. The ship encountered storms on the way back, near the coast of Spain and the officers were shipwrecked, most washed up to shore. The Hale son has not been accounted for and the family have had no word from him since the ship departed England. He is for all intents and purposes presumed dead."
"What a distressing tale! I should sit down, I feel a faint coming on," Fanny dropped dramatically into the nearest armchair, fanning herself and bidding a maid to fetch her some water. Mrs Thornton had not said anything. While feeling great sympathy for a woman who had lost a son with no chance to say goodbye, she also felt a little cross that she had not been informed of these tragic circumstances before their visit, else she may not have been so boastful about her own son.
"She did look so downcast when I began speaking of you… if only someone had told me!" she muttered, sounding more cross with herself than anything.
"It is not your fault Mother, you did not know," John attempted to soothe her.
"I suppose it does not matter. They're likely to want little to do with us now," she sniffed, not sure if she mourned the loss or not.
To Mrs Thornton's surprise, Miss Hale sent a very pretty note the next day, asking when they could be able to return the visit. Hannah sent a maid to invite them for tea the next day and immediately ordered the best tea set to be cleaned and set the cook to making a great assortment of cakes and biscuits.
Mrs Hale and her daughter arrived promptly the next day, seeming to have come by foot. They exchanged all the usual pleasantries and seated themselves, offering all the polite compliments of the furnishings and the refreshments. Hannah, as usual, cut to the heart of the matter.
"Mrs Hale, I do owe you an apology. My words about my son the other day, seem very careless, in light of what I have learnt. I am sorry for what I said, and I am sorry for the loss of your son," she spoke with all the awkward grace of a woman far more accustomed to hearing apologies than giving them. Mrs Hale offered a small, sad smile.
"You did not mean your words maliciously Mrs Thornton, you were not to know. Mr Thornton is fortunate to have a mother so happy to sing his praises. I would frequently crow about Frederick when he first set sail," she replied, with a fond smile at the memory of her son.
"Frederick, that is his name?" Mrs Thornton asked, "Would you tell us about him?"
Surprisingly, Margaret leapt to her feet, leaving the room with a muttered "Excuse me". They heard her ask for her coat, and then the slam of the front door some moments later.
"You'll have to forgive Margaret. She and Fred were twins and were close as anything. She's taken the loss particularly hard," Mrs Hale murmured.
"Should you not go after her?" Fanny asked indecorously, ignoring the hard stare from her mother.
"No, she always prefers to be alone when she is thinking of Fred. I shall take some food home for her if that is agreeable?"
Mrs Thornton nodded her agreement and settled to hear the story of Frederick Hale.
Mr Thornton himself was in the mill yard and looked up when he heard the door to his house open. He was surprised then to see Miss Hale leaving, completely alone and looking very distressed. He murmured excuses to his foremen and took off after her. She moved surprisingly quick and she was halfway up a hill in the cemetery before he caught up to her, having almost lost her in the crowds she had weaved and ducked through so effortlessly. She turned and startled at the sight of him.
"Mr Thornton! Forgive me, I did not hear…" she trailed off.
"I saw you leaving the house Miss Hale, are you alright?"
She grimaced with mortification.
"I owe your mother an apology. She was asking about Fred, and I found I did not… I could not," she trailed off again, and then shook her head.
"I am sorry, I just cannot bear it when people want to ask about Fred, and I have to hear Mama talk about what a fine man he was," she emphasised the last word, and Mr Thornton raised an eyebrow. She then looked at him with resolve.
"You may think me quite mad Mr Thornton, but you may as well hear it. Fred and I are twins. We were formed from the same flesh; we grew together in my mother's…" she yet again faltered as she realised she had stumbled into an impolite topic, but Mr Thornton gave no indication that he thought her vulgar.
"We came into this world together. Father always told us that when we were laid upon our mother's chest, our hands instantly stretched toward each other. We did everything together. I think we knew each other better than we knew ourselves. We knew just how to make each other laugh. I could always cheer him when he was sad, knew just how to care for him when he was sick, and he I" This was the most she had spoken of her brother in months, and she found the weight on her heart lessening with each word.
"My point, Mr Thornton, is that Fred is more than my brother. He is almost like a part of me, like we are two halves of a whole person. I would know instantly if something had happened to him, but I have not felt anything. I feel, deep inside myself, that he is still alive. He is out there somewhere, perhaps injured or ill, and I cannot do anything to help him," she felt tears beginning to pool in her eyes. Her heart gave an odd sort of jolt when she looked up and Mr Thornton was silently holding his handkerchief out for her.
"My family always become so cross when I speak of this, as they think I am giving everyone false hope. I thank you for listening to me, and not instantly reprimanding me," she dabbed at her eyes.
"I cannot reprimand you, Miss Hale, for I cannot know what it is to lose someone I loved in such a way," he replied softly.
"You lost your father," she replied in almost a whisper.
"Aye, it's true. But I saw his body in the coffin, and I knew without a doubt that he was truly gone. I did not have to endure the agony of months of not knowing where he was. I know of the pain of not being able to give him a proper funeral, but that was…entirely different"
"I am sorry, Mr Thornton. I know it is painful to speak of him. I should not have…"
"Do not trouble yourself. It is a fact of my life, nothing more," he replied almost coldly, before shaking his head. "Come, would you allow me to escort you home? You still look very distressed"
She thanked him and took the arm he offered her. She held out her other hand to return his handkerchief, but he waved her off.
"Keep it, you may need use of it again"
She smiled and clutched it to her chest. John quickly looked away. Was he, Mill Master and Magistrate, blushing?
"Miss Margaret, there's a letter come for you. Postmark says it's from Harley Street, perhaps another letter from your cousin Edith"
"Oh how lovely! Thankyou Dixon, I shall investigate," Margaret took the envelope from Dixon and opened it, smiling with the curiosity of it. Dixon then watched, as Miss Margaret's face then went very white, and she clutched at the arm of the chair.
"Miss, is everything ok, Miss?"
Margaret then looked up sharply, and sprinted from the room, the paper crumpling in her hand.
"Mama…. MAMA!"
My darling Peggy,
I am so sorry I have not been able to write to you or our parents sooner. Under the circumstances, I thought it best to write to you first, so that you will be able to prepare Mother and Father for what will undoubtedly be a shock.
I am alive my darling sister. I was separated from the rest of the crew when our ship was capsized in a storm. I am told the other survivors were washed up somewhere near Portugal, but I was picked up by a cargo boat and ended up in a place called Cadiz, which is much further south. I was at sea for many days and was very weak when they found me. They did not even know if I would live. I also lost all my possessions, so they could not identify me or even know who to contact for me. I have spent the last few months recovering under the generous hospitality of a Senor Babour, who owns the boat that picked me up. I was incredibly weak and ill my darling sister, please believe that it was a very long recovery. I suffered memory loss, and recollections have only recently come back to me. As soon as I was declared sufficiently recovered, the Babours helped me arrange passage back to England. I of course made straight for our beloved Helstone, to find nobody there!
I then instead made for London, to call upon our beloved Aunt and Cousin. It has been two days, and my ears are still ringing with their screams of shock. I can't fault them; it was 5'o clock in the morning. They told me of your move to Milton and helped me arrange my journey to finally be back with my family. Edith begs your forgiveness for not telling you anything, but I swore her to secrecy. This news needed to come from my hand alone. I have all my tickets in hand and will depart Harley Street tomorrow morning, and you can expect me in Milton at 3'o clock on Tuesday afternoon.
How I cannot wait to see you all again.
God Bless you Sister,
Frederick
Mrs Hale was frantic as she read and re read the letter from her son.
"3'o clock Tuesday… but that's today! And… Heavens! It is 2'o clock now, he will be here any minute! Not a scrap of food to offer him or even a bed made! Dixon, go to the butchers this very minute and buy the best joint they can offer, and anything else you may need to lay out a fine table for our Fred!"
She haphazardly shoved a purse of coins at Dixon and dismissed her.
"Thank heavens we have just laundered some of the spare linen… I shall go and make up the guest bed. Margaret, run to the station and see if you can find that brother of yours! Fly now my girl!"
But she was speaking to the air, as Margaret had already run to seize her coat.
Mr Thornton was escorting his mother and sister out to the dressmakers, as they decided to both have new dresses for the Thornton's upcoming dinner. Mrs Thornton had huffed at the thought of a new dress when her current dresses served her very well. However, she had recently marked her fiftieth birthday and her children had persuaded her to indulge herself. They had stopped outside as they spotted Mr Hale and Mr Bell seated on a bench nearby, both animatedly discussing the volume of Plato Mr Hale held in his hand. They could see the door to Crampton from where they stood, and stopped to exchange pleasantries with the two gentlemen, unaware of the commotion that was about to descend upon them.
All looked up as the door to Crampton flew open and Dixon came bustling out, in such a hurry that she had not fastened her cloak or bonnet properly, and both swung precariously from her shoulders. She closed the door and descended the steps, clutching her basket and muttering to herself.
It was nothing to the explosion that occurred next, as the door was opened with a force that nearly took it off its hinges. Margaret had burst out and seemed not to have bothered with a coat at all, still clutching it in her hand. To everyone's great shock she then seized great folds of her skirt, hitched them up and ran through the streets, sprinting like the hounds of hell were upon her. The ladies were staring open mouthed, and Mr Hale looked completely bewildered, wondering what had come over the women of his household.
"Forgive me Mr Thornton, but could you perhaps try and catch Margaret up… and try to discover what the blazes has happened? I fear you are quite the fastest here," Mr Hale implored him. John merely tipped his hat to the party, and was gone, up the street after the elusive Miss Hale.
Such a spectacle the people of Milton had never seen before! The parson's daughter, sprinting up the street like a hellion, and who should be hot upon her heels but the Master Thornton of Marlborough Mill? They could not puzzle it out!
Damn her speed! She'd only had a thirty second head start on him, but even his long striding run was being tested. Oddly, she had turned to look at him when she noticed someone behind her. Instead of stopping and explaining this perfectly irrational behaviour, she had let out an odd shriek of excitement and been spurred on to even greater speed. Men called out to try and stop her, seeing who it was that was pursuing her, even stepped out to try and catch her, but she eluded them all. John then almost stopped dead when he realised she was leading him to the train station. What the blazes was she doing here?! She'd carried on, charging headlong through the entrance and up the stairs. He finally caught up in time to watch her shriek with delight and fling herself into the arms of a waiting man. His heart dropped to somewhere in his stomach, until they pulled apart and John caught a look at the man's face. That was Margaret's face, copied almost perfectly onto this man. Could it be?
The man then noticed him staring completely agog at them and nudged Margaret, who turned to look at him properly.
"Mr Thornton!" she cried "Come, come. I want you to meet someone! Mr Thornton, this is – "
"Fred," John finished for her, knowing who it was the minute he'd seen his face. Margaret could only nod, both panting with the exertion of her run and trying to choke down great big sobs. The smile on her face threatened to split her clean in two, and her eyes were swimming with tears of joy. She was in danger of being overwhelmed, and John and Fred both went to catch an arm at the same time, lest she faint. John immediately released her and left Fred to guide her to a nearby bench. He couldn't help a little smile of his own when Margaret pulled his handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed frantically at her eyes. John allowed himself a proper look at Fred. One of his arms was in a sling, and he still looked slightly thin and pale. Apart from all that, he was Margaret's twin through and through. Their features were identical and their hair was the same soft shade of brown. He was looking back at John with the same curious look he'd often seen on Margaret's face.
"Mr Thornton. Friend of the family," he introduced himself briefly. Fred chuckled.
"Probably sent after her, charging around the way she was. Fred, long lost brother," he replied, grinning, eliciting a throaty chuckle from his sister. She took a deep breath and got to her feet.
"Come come, Mama knows you are coming and we ought not to keep her waiting," she pulled Fred to his feet and took his arm, grinning. Fred then looked over at his abandoned case, trying to work out how to retrieve it.
"Allow me," John interjected, leaning down to grab it for him. He gestured for the twins to lead the way, following behind in what was now an odd-looking parade.
Mr Hale had now been appraised of events by his wife and they were both waiting anxiously on the steps of Crampton, craning their necks above the crowds. The remaining Thorntons and Mr Bell were also congregated nearby, wanting to see Fred for themselves. Mrs Hale then let out a sob at the sight of her children, walking up the street toward her together, a moment she thought she would now only see in her dreams. Fanny giggled at the sight at her brother trailing alongside them, relegated to a sort of porter and barely getting a word in edgeways over the great hurried conversation they were having. He didn't seem to mind it too much. Presently, the little party presented themselves at the bottom of the steps. Fred had barely opened his mouth for a greeting before his mother flung herself upon with another violent sob. He choked back tears of his own and gripped her tightly with his unslung arm. His father descended in a sort of daze and just stared at Fred.
"Hello father," Fred greeted him croakily. That seemed to break something in Mr Hale, and he too pulled Fred, along with his wife, in for a hug, clapping him on the back.
"My boy, my son," he wept over and over. Margaret choked out further sobs and enveloped herself this public display of a family's joy. Mr Bell and the Thornton's averted their eyes, the ladies discreetly dabbing their eyes. Finally, Mrs Hale detached herself and started flapping.
"Oh, what are we all doing out here? Everyone inside, come come, all of you! Mr Bell, you of course and Mr Thornton, if you and your family will oblige us? We shall be quite the merry party!"
John and his mother exchanged glances.
"I think dresses can wait Mrs Hale. We will gladly join you"
Mrs Hale ushered her son into the parlour, bidding him to seat in the most central and comfiest armchair and fussing about the state of his arm, bidding the maid to fetch a doctor or this remedy or other. Fred merely patted the chair beside him and bid her to sit, promising to regale her with a fuller account of his discovery and recovery. Margaret took the chance to address Mrs Thornton.
"I should like to apologise to you for my rudeness yesterday. It was deplorable to storm out like that, and I am quite ashamed of it. I hope you can forgive me"
Mrs Thornton looked over to where Mrs Hale was hanging on her son's every word, fussing over the state of his hair or trying to smooth some invisible wrinkle in his collar.
"Consider it forgotten Miss Hale," she replied simply.
Fred and Margaret later fought back laughter. They had both attempted to sneak into the others room for one of their usual night-time conversations and had ran head long into each other in the hallway. Their mother had finally been convinced to retire, after being assured her son would still be there come the morrow. Margaret had therefore barely had a chance to speak to her brother and was glad of the opportunity now.
"Into my room. It's downstairs and a bit more private," Fred whispered.
They settled themselves at the opposite ends of the bed, and Fred laughed when Margaret produced biscuits out of the pockets of her dressing gown, smuggled earlier from the dinner table. He sheepishly produced the treats he had also smuggled.
"Still of the same mind you and I, Peg," he laughed, using his old nickname for her. She giggled and they settled into conversation about anything and everything. Fred told her more of his recovery in Spain, and she told him more of their move to Milton.
"So Mr Thorton, hmmm?" Fred asked suddenly. It was dark, but he could make out his sister's blush anywhere.
"What of him?" she replied, trying and failing to sound casual.
"I paid him some attention this evening, and he none to me. Didn't take his eyes off you, I swear it," he replied impishly "And I see how you've held on to that handkerchief of his," he added, having spotted it tucked into her nightgown sleeve. She said nothing, staring out the window thoughtfully at this new information. Fred chuckled and helped himself to another biscuit. He would have to find a way to further this acquaintance with Mr Thornton. Judge whether or not he were a worthy sort of man for his sister.
AN: Ok, so I threw a smidge of John/Margaret fluff in there. Is anyone complaining? This has been bouncing around my head for a while and finally committing it to paper might help me focus on CWBWA for more than 12 seconds!
Sid x