POLES APART
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Chapter 8:
Her plans were not as immediate as she would have liked. Mrs. Thornton was harder to convince to than she had originally hoped. The redoubtable woman, though in agreement with Margaret that they both would need to do all in their power to help her son during this difficult time, was by no means convinced that the best way to help would be for Margaret to find employment; (though admittedly she wasn't as disgusted as she would have been had Margaret been her own daughter).
After much discussion and debating of the many merits and pitfalls of every possible course of action, it was in the end agreed that Mrs. Thornton would assist Margaret in finding a respectable position, preferably with the local dressmaker, and she would also attempt to calm Mr. Thornton's reservations regarding Margaret's employment.
Thornton, when this scheme was related to him, was of course furious with his mother. He knew his mothers dislike for Margaret and coupled with her desire to be rid of Ms Hale as well as to make him think less of her, this betrayal was too much to bear! Thornton was beyond reasoning, and after spending half the afternoon in his study arguing with his mother, he abandoned the futile attempt, (as neither of them would back down,) and decided to walk off his crotchets.
He had been walking for some time without any real idea of direction. His thoughts were in riotous chaos as his anger overflowed. He finally looked about him as he began to feel cold droplets falling on his head. As he lifted his heavy brow, weighted with shame, anger and unease, he realized he had wandered into the Princeton district. He was far from home and the heavens had now officially opened; he would need to seek shelter and quickly, as the icy rain began to soak through his coat and down his back.
Higgins – he would have to beg shelter from Nicholas; and strangely this thought gave him comfort. He had become good friends with the unionist mill-hand and found that though they both saw life from very different angles; they both shared the same ethical code.
He had not spoken with Nicholas for a couple of days. The last discussion they had had was the day before Mr. Bells visit, but since Thornton had announced to the workers that the mill would be closing at the end of the month, he had not had an opportunity for discourse with Nicholas.
Though he was rather busy, tying up all the mills loose ends, he knew that his reason for avoiding Nicholas was not work but disgrace. He knew how many mouths Nicholas was responsible for feeding and he knew that as a direct result of his inability to set matters to rights those mouths were very much in danger of remaining empty. His stomach seemed to lurch as he tried to swallow down the hot lumps of shame as they rose in his throat, and he pressed on through the down-pour until he found himself standing in front of Higgins' door.
After a slight pause, he beat his wet palm against the door and waited. He could hear voices and see light from within but it seemed to take an age before the door was opened for him. At long last he heard someone approaching the aperture and in an instant the door was pulled ajar to reveal Nicholas standing in the door way holding a small little girl, with curly red hair, on his hip. She must only have been about two or three years of age and her eyes were red and her cheeks stained with tears.
"Master?" said Nicholas, after overcoming the shock of finding his employer standing on his door step in the middle of a torrential down-pour.
"I apologize Higgins, but I had lost track of my bearings when the rain caught me and I must beg shelter from you if it is not too much to ask," said Thornton, as contritely as he could muster.
"Of course Master, come in – do." He hastily stood aside for Thornton to enter the squalid little hovel before closing the door behind him.
Thornton looked around as he entered the cramped house and noticed that the room was dark and cold and that the children were all in various states of dishevelment as they sat scattered about the room. Three were huddled atop the large bed in the corner of the room, two more were kneeling in front of the bed and the sixth was still clutching Nicholas' shirt as he held her in his arms. He could also hear a babe crying from somewhere above his head.
"Where is Mary?" enquired Thornton, realizing that Nicholas was hopelessly out of his depth.
"She went to town to ask about a job at the public house. They was needing a cook and having cooked for the hands these weeks the chit has got it into to her head that she can cook for the toffs as well!" replied Nicholas with no small amount of choler.
"And left you to see to the children?"
"Aye!" huffed Higgins bitterly, as he thought longingly of his pint of ale waiting for him at the Golden Dragon.
"I am sorry to say that I would not be of much use to you Nicholas," responded Thornton, a slight edge of panic creeping into his tone as he looked about him at all the wide eyed faces staring at him.
"Well begging your pardon Master but you'll do right enough! It aint everyday that I have a master standing in my parlour and it aint everyday neither that I have charge of the reigns; but today I do! Now I have to see to that babe squawking his lungs out so you will just have to manage down here!" And with this pronouncement he hastily handed over his burden of the small red haired girl to Thornton and disappeared up the pokey stairs before Thornton could regain his wits!
After being handed over so unceremoniously to Thornton the little girl threw her head back and launched into a fresh flood of wailing. A couple of the slightly older children came forward to try and assist but when they finally stood before the great master they all became so timid that they proved to be of no help what so ever.
Even the little boy that Thornton had been helping learn his letters stood meekly to one side, casually observing his teacher as he stood trying to calm the little raggedy girl in his arms.
Admittedly he had no idea what he should be doing in this instance but it didn't seem to matter; nothing he did seemed to work. The other children that had gathered around him in wide-eyed astonishment eventually retreated for fear that his consternation may morph into rage and that he may descend upon them in a fit of temper.
And so he was left struggling for what seemed to be an age, when before Nicholas could return, there was a stifled knocking at the door. He feared that whoever it was had probably been knocking for some time because with the wailing of the infant upstairs, the continued sobs of the urchin in his arms and the hammering rain that was still pelting down outside it was hard to hear himself think never mind to hear knocking at the door.
At first his heart had leapt thinking that Mary must have returned, but this joy was short-lived as he realised that Mary would not need to knock. He didn't know if he should answer but if he had struggled to hear the knocking he was sure Nicholas had not heard it all.
He deftly maneuvered the still crying child onto his hip in order to free his one hand. This done, he hastily withdrew the handkerchief from his breast pocket and gave it to the girl. The gift worked like a charm! The little girl took the proffered article with such awe and reverence, as if she was being given a holy shroud, that she instantly stopped crying.
He signed a small sigh of relief at having side-stepped one obstacle, he now turned his attention to whoever the poor wretch was that was still waiting entrance at the door, obviously soaked to the skin by now.
As he turned the tarnished door handle and opened the rickety door onto the street his eyes were met with the surprised glare of Margaret Hale! Her clothes were soaked and her dark hair was stuck to the sides of her face. Rain droplets even clung to the tips of her long eye lashes.
Surprised as she was to be welcomed by Mr Thornton she was still master enough of her senses to not wait for a formal invitation to enter, but instead gently pushed past Thornton into the dank but thankfully dry hovel.
"Ms Hale?" asked Thornton perplexed. What was she doing out in the rain at this late hour of the evening, and in this neighborhood no less! The last he had heard from his mother was that Margaret still had not ventured any further than the mill gates since she had come to stay with them; what could be the reason for this journey?
"Mr. Thornton, I beg your pardon for pushing past you but I have been knocking on the door for ages and am almost soaked through."
"Of course you are! What on earth possessed you to venture out of doors on such an evening?" he said with a flash of temper at her ill-timed independence.
Margaret, now that she was out of the torrential down-pour, had noted with disbelief that Thornton was carrying a small child on his hip. She tried to overlook this most uncharacteristic behavour in order to explain herself. In her observations she had also noted that Thornton himself was also decidedly damp and therefore couldn't help the flippant retort that sprang to her lips.
"And I might ask you the same question Mr. Thornton as you seem to be in much the same state of dampness as I am myself!"
"I fear you to be incorrect in your observation, I am but slightly damp – you are soaked to the bone! You shall catch your death Marg…Ms Hale!" He huffed in frustration with himself for having once again addressed her by her Christian name. He didn't know why the name seemed to spring so readily to his lips, decorum forbade him from using it; but somehow when faced with the vision of Margaret Hale standing before him, even if only in his mind's eye, all his wits seemed to abandon him as she filled up his senses, and he couldn't seem to help himself from calling out the name which echoed in his dreams.
Margaret was soaked through, and freezing because of it, but the small embers that glowed but a dull orange in the small ashy hearth weren't enough to even warm her fingers by let alone defrost every inch of her icy shivery body.
"I had meant to bring Mary some of my older dresses that I have been mending; I had no idea the weather would turn so suddenly!" she explained. She didn't know exactly why she was explaining herself to him, she had not forgotten how they had parted after their last argument; perhaps the cold had numbed her wits as well as her flesh!
Thornton had by this time placed the wee child on the floor by her siblings and was impotently searching around the barren room for something which may be used to drive off the blue pallor that was fast spreading over Margaret's lips and face. When he heard her mention the old dresses that she was bringing for Mary he suddenly noticed the basket that was resting neatly over her right arm.
"You must take off your wet clothes immediately Miss Hale. The clothes that you brought for Mary…there must be some article of apparel in the basket that has escaped the deluge."
Margaret at first thought that she must not have heard him correctly, but when he reached toward her in an effort to take hold of the basket she was carrying she feared instead that he was entirely in earnest!
"I cannot change my clothes now!" she almost shrieked; panic momentarily driving the icy chill from her bones. "There is no where private here for me to do so," she whispered as a wave of red flooded her wan cheeks.
Thornton, a man held in the iron grip of his all consuming love for Margaret, saw the blush flame across her cheek; a reaction which in turn caused his whole body to tremble; and let out a small snicker at her self-consciousness in the face of mortal peril. "There is a curtain before the bed Miss Hale, and should it make you feel more comfortable I shall ask this small child here at my knee to stand guard over it to ensure that its sanctum is not breached!"
Margaret's cheeks flamed even more as she realised Thornton was laughing at her. "Mr. Thornton, I shall be just fine…"
But he cut her off before she could finish what she was about to say.
"No Miss Hale I fear you shall not be just fine!" his concern for her well-being would not be overruled; but he realised he had erred in his approach. "I humbly beg your forgiveness for my jeering Ms Hale, but I must entreat you to remove that soaked dress at once. The rain is nothing more than melted snow and I have seen it carry stronger men and women than you to early graves as punishment for having ignored its sinister motives. As you will note I have removed my coat for the same reason, and must now beg you to do the same. The room is poorly lit and the curtain shall amply shelter you.
"Higgins is busy upstairs with the infant as you may be able to hear," he said facetiously, motioning to the floor above them where sounds of off-key crooning could be heard wafting down the stairs; "and I shall turn and face the wall if it should make you feel more comfortable, but you must change at once!"
Margaret's whole body seemed to convulse as the cold overwhelmed her small frame. She was mortified but by this stage she could barely utter a syllable of comprehensible speech as her lips stuttered, her teeth chattered and her body became wracked with shivers.
This only motivated Thornton further. He didn't wait for her to argue her case; he merely removed the wicker basket from her arm and after rummaging through its contents, found a dark blue dress made from a coarse sturdy cloth. This he extracted from the bundle and after leading Margaret to the bed he placed the slightly crumpled article on the pillow and drew the curtain between the two of them to give her her privacy to change.
Margaret stood staring down at the dress for what seemed like eternity. She remembered the dress well; it had always been one of her favorites though it was now sadly worn. Eventually she plucked up enough courage to peer through a chink in the rather dilapidated bed curtain to ascertain if Thornton had indeed averted his gaze. She let out a small shaky giggle when she noticed him standing up against the far wall, his nose almost touching the damp plaster, and the small blonde boy who had been standing by his knee when he took his oath, was now stationed outside the curtain, keeping the rest of the eager onlookers at bay, just as Thornton had promised.
"Is everything alright?" enquired Thornton after hearing her giggle; though he wasn't sure what he had heard.
He hadn't meant to; in fact he had sworn to her that he would not, but when he spoke he had unconsciously turned his head over his shoulder to see if Margaret was in need of anything. As he looked at the bed curtain he saw to his astonishment that the candle that was burning in the bracket behind the curtain was causing Margaret's perfect frame to be silhouetted against the screen that separated them.
He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away as he watched her eventually begin to undo the fastenings on her bodice to remove her wet garments. He watched with his mouth slightly agape as she slowly slid the wet dress down to her ankles before stepping out of it. And he couldn't seem to move as he saw her reach out for the dry garment which he had placed on the pillow. Every perfect line and curve of her body was evident against the curtain, and as a result of this flawless vision before him, every nerve in his body seemed to tremble and shake with suppressed desire. And so he may still have stood when she eventually opened the curtain, if the small husky cough of the little boy stationed as guard had not broken the trance he was in.
Thornton managed to return his gaze to the crumbling plaster the instant before Margaret stepped out from the behind the drape. His body was still shaking but in the hazy gloom of the cottage she wouldn't have been able to discern this.
"Thank you Mr. Thornton, you were indeed right to insist that I change my frock. I feel much better for it already, though I'm sure I still look a sad state." She did feel much warmer than she had done a few minutes ago though she was loath to admit it.
Turning, Thornton tried to school his features into a more impassive stare, lest she notice the intense state of agitation and arousal writ across his face.
"I am glad that you will still heed my advice in some matters Ms Hale," was all the reply he was able to make. He could feel his voice about to tremble as the view of her before him recalled the memory of her shadowy form, causing it to waft once more through his mind.
Margaret, ignorant of the tumultuous feelings writhing in the heart of the man before her, was somewhat conscience stricken when she grasped his meaning. She knew that the quarrel over her search for employment had been caused by her refusal to obey Thornton's wishes or to heed his advice. She knew too that by canvassing for the support of Mrs. Thornton in this matter she had pitted mother against son, a fact which she knew must cause both pain.
This was not her intention but she also knew that in the end it would serve her purpose. Thornton may not be happy about it but he would not oppose his mother; he would leave the management of Margaret for her to deal with.
"I still find it hard to believe that you would walk all this way, at this hour and in this biting cold to deliver a few dresses to Mary which could well have been given to Nicholas in the morning." Thornton hoped desperately that a display of anger with her ill judged excursion would mask his overwhelming need for her.
Margaret, her choler raised by his tone, felt the guilt she had been feeling vanish; instead to be replaced by spite. "That was not my only intention, no. I had also intended to relate to Mary and Nicholas some good news that I was eager for them to bear witness to."
"And what good news could this be Miss Margaret to bring ya out here on this wild night?" Nicholas' voice rang out as he descended the stairs in time to hear the end of Margaret's speech. "For good news is scarce and a bit of it would be sure ta warm my heart!"
"Yes, indeed we could all do with some good cheer," chimed in Thornton, a dangerous edge to his seemingly calm voice.
Margaret had detected the note of steel in his tone, but with a quick glance at him through her eyelashes, she turned to face Nicholas and plunged on. "I have managed to find work Nicholas! I am to begin on Monday at Mrs. Pratley's, assisting her in her shop with minor sewing and mending."
She could almost feel the heat radiating out of the corner where Thornton stood rooted to the floor but she daren't look at him, instead she merely raised her chin and focused on Nicholas. "I had hoped to find Mary at home that I may have shared the news with her as well. Where is she Nicholas?"
"The silly lass has gone off in search of work herself, though I suspect she must be nigh on returnin'"
"I am glad, then I may be able to tell her for myself," replied Margaret, still purposefully ignoring the elephant in the room.
"And might I enquire if you have informed my mother of your 'good' news?" asked Thornton, his expression and tone suggestive of a bear being rudely awoken from his slumber.
Margaret knew that her next words would come as a severe blow to Mr. Thornton and though she could feel pity for him she also took a kind of vindictive pleasure in the knowledge. He had wounded her so severely that night at the mill, that she felt this was a form of repayment.
"I had no need to inform Mrs. Thornton, as she was present when the offer was made to me."
"Present?!" spluttered Thornton, aghast at this pronouncement. "You do not mean to tell me that she invited the indomitable Mrs. Pratley to Marlborough Mills for afternoon tea?"
"No, I do not," answered Margaret matter-of-factly. "Your mother was kind enough to accompany me when I approached Mrs. Pratley for the position. Mrs. Thornton has been entrusted with my guardianship by my Godfather and as such was able to give Mrs. Pratley a reasonable reference as to my character and ability. Mrs. Pratley does seem to be a redoubtable woman, as you have said, but I never took on this undertaking believing it would be a holiday for me. She is prepared to give me a chance to prove myself and I am prepared to work as hard as I can in order to do so. The pay is not so very good, but if I am able to perform the tasks she sets me speedily and neatly she has promised to review my salary."
"This is ludicrous! Nicholas, surely you can see that that this step was not necessary; that Miss Hale does it only to vex me!"
"Now now Master, I know it's a blow to the pride but with matters standing the way they are Miss Margaret just wants to help ya. Ya've been holed up in your office for weeks, working yaself to all hours of the morning – if the gossip mongers are to be believed. How long do ya think ya will last trying to do everything on ya own! It's not a sin to accept help from them that means it well!" said Nicholas sagely.
He had on more than one occasion noticed the spark of desire writ across his masters features, and though old he was sharp enough yet to see which way the wind blew in that quarter! And he was fairly sure matters were much the same with Miss Margaret, though the lass was too naïve and innocent to realise it as yet.
"I have managed before and should do so again!" barked Thornton, veritable flames flashing in his cobalt eyes.
"Is it because it is shameful for you to accept help from a woman, or is it just me that you refuse to accept help from?" enquired Margaret archly, her hands dug into her hips in sheer agitation.
"It is both!" growled Thornton.
"I see," whispered Margaret lamely, as the fight seemed to leave her; the pain of his words crushing down on her again. She was sure he couldn't even bare to look at her!
Thornton was immeasurably angry, but he saw to his horror the look of pain that flooded Margaret's face at his callous retort. His was ashamed of himself. He could not graciously accept her aid but was it really necessary to tear her down just when she had begun to build herself up again. He had always known that he was no knight in shining armour; he had not until this moment realised that he was in fact the ogre from which all fled in fear.
"Miss Hale," he said softly and contritely as he took a step towards her. "I did not mean what I said. It was cruel and unnecessary and I said it out of anger. I humbly beg your forgiveness! Please, you must not look so hurt, truly I am sorry."
His instinct was to reach out to grab hold of her hands, but though he had already extended his arms he realised that the act would not be welcomed by Margaret and at the last minute he lamely retracted them.
"I know your intentions were good, it is just hard for me accept your help when I am the one that assured Mr. Bell that I would look after your well being. Can you not see how wrong it would be for me to put you to work in order that you may pay your way in my house?" He didn't want to fight any more and he didn't want to hurt her, but she had to be made to see why he was so against this idea. Surely his argument was not so unreasonable.
Almost as if he was summoned, Nicholas stepped into the fray. "Aye, Miss, I'm sure ya can see the Masters point. People would think he was a tyrant tryin' to make use o' ya."
"Mr. Thornton has a good reputation in Milton, people would understand…" began Margaret, but Nicholas cut her off before she could finish.
"And that is why they'd be in such a hurry to trample all over it! Them other masters that think themselves so grand, they'd not flinch to knock a man of Thornton's reputation down a few pegs! They're a cowardly bunch a dogs Miss Margaret, and together with the mill closing they'd set upon this fresh bit o' meat like the hounds they are!"
Margaret knew Nicholas would not lie to her, and she believed the look of contrition and shame on Mr. Thornton's face was genuine, but how could she give up her scheme now that she had so firmly set her heart on it?
"I understand and accept your position Mr. Thornton, and I hope that you will not see this as an act of willful defiance, but I cannot give up this post. It has given my life such meaning since first I had decided upon this course of action and to give it up now would plunge me back into the abyss of my mourning. Please can you understand that?" she begged, staring straight into his eyes.
More effectively than any words could have done that look of trust and entreaty that her eyes conveyed, melted his resolve. He remembered Bells warning that day when he had come to beg Thornton's help in sheltering Margaret after her fathers tragic passing; how the older gentleman had warned him that Margaret would never allow herself to become a burden to him or his purse and that if he believed otherwise he did not know her as well as he may think he did. Apparently there was still much for him to learn about the young girl that carried herself like a woman.
He could not be happy about it but in the end he would accept the degradation to his reputation in order to help Margaret out of the black void which her life had become in recent months. How could he do anything other than grant the one wish of the woman whom he loved with all his heart!