"People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

~ Troilus and Criseyde, Chaucer

Chapter Fifteen

John looked up from his desk at the sound of footsteps coming toward his office. Seeing both his mother and Margaret he smiled and stood up, meeting them at his door. His smile slipped when he saw how serious their expressions were. He did not expect to see Margaret until the next day, so could there be something wrong with the Hales? Perhaps her mother had taken a turn for the worse?

"Mother? Margaret? What has happened?" he asked.

"Oh, John." His mother touched his arm. "Someone has attacked the Hale's home."

He looked past his mother to Margaret's sad face. "Are you alright, love? What happened?" He looked between the two women and reached out to Margaret with his free hand.

He pulled her to his side, opposite his mother. She melted into him, and then slowly pulled away. After swallowing hard, she said, "Someone threw a rock through one of our windows. On it, there is a note tied to it, which I have brought along."

"What did the note say?" he asked quietly.

"I have not unrolled it yet. I thought it would be disturbing evidence. Dixon and I swept up the glass from the window, so I suppose we have already disturbed the scene." She frowned.

"Come in the office where we can talk." He stepped back and let the ladies walk past him. Once they were settled in the chairs by his desk, he closed the door and stepped inside. "Start from the beginning," he told Margaret, sitting in front of them.

She reached inside her valise and pulled out a rock that was almost as large as her entire hand. As she handed it to him, she said, "When I came home from shopping this morning, I walked into the house to see Dixon sweeping up the glass from the window. It was broken into hundreds of pieces. I did not know if I should go to Sergeant Snipes or come to you first, John."

"You can always come to me, Margaret," he said as he studied the note attached to the rock. "I will take you to see Snipes and we will wait to open this until we get there, so we have more official witnesses."

Margaret nodded. "Shall we go now, or wait?"

He glanced up at the clock. "We can go now. Mother, do you wish to come along?"

She shook her head and then grinned. "Margaret was worried about disturbing you during your workday, so she came to me first to ask what I thought about her bothering you."

He smiled at them both. "Neither of you will ever be a bother to me. Margaret, you are welcome to stop by the mill anytime you wish, even if there is no particular reason except to say hello."

She smiled shyly back at him and then looked at his mother. "You were right, Mrs. Thornton."

He chuckled and stood up. "You will find very few things that my mother is not correct about. And, Margaret Hale, Mother is very supportive. I think in time you will find this out for yourself."

Still smiling, she stood. "Thank you, Mrs. Thornton. John is right, you have been nothing but kindness since I arrived here in Milton."

His mother showed a slight grin and nodded as she stood. "John, I told her I will continue to help her as much as she needs. Her mother is leaving soon and it will be just her and her father."

His mother opened the office door. John handed the rock back to Margaret who plopped it into her bag. He grabbed his wool coat as he left the office, and realized, because of the time, he would likely not return before his engagement at the Men's Club.

"Mother, would you please tell Mr. Williams I won't be back again today?"

"Yes. Have a nice evening." His mother started walking away, toward the direction of the weaving floor, but suddenly stopped. "John, Fanny took the carriage to go shopping."

He nodded and took Margaret's hand in his as they walked away. "We will have to hire a gig."

"I do not mind walking," Margaret told him.

He smiled down at her. "You do not have to walk in my company unless it is for pleasure. We will hire a carriage."

As they entered the mill yard, she said, "Does Fanny often spend the day shopping?"

He nodded. "More often than I wish, but today it was in my best interest."

She tipped her head and frowned. "She is shopping for you?"

The minute they stepped onto New Street, a carriage for hire approached them, and John waved it down. When it came to a halt, he helped Margaret inside and then gave the driver directions. He closed the carriage door behind him and took a seat across from Margaret.

"To answer your question, no, she is not shopping for me." He sighed. With a frown, he said, "I suppose it is time I must tell you about Ann Latimer."

"Oh?"

He glanced out of the window at the moving scenery. It was all a blur, honestly, but he needed to think about a way to properly phrase what he must tell Margaret.

He sighed and began, "My main banker for the mill is Mr. Latimer. You met him at the operetta."

She nodded, and he continued.

"Latimer owns a loan I secured which enabled me to install a wheel machine that keeps the air circulating in the weaving shed. This keeps my employees healthier. When Ann returned from school in Switzerland, he did as much as he could to push her in my direction. Fanny clung to her and gave her the idea that I was interested in courting her. I tell you truly, I have never been interested in Miss Latimer romantically, even before I met you." He smiled at her. "She did not understand that. Perhaps, I was not blunt enough." He chuckled. "I'm not very experienced with women, Margaret, as I have told you, and because her father is my banker, I had to tread lightly. I could not offend her and by default offend him as well."

Margaret nodded, but remained quiet, listening to him.

"For a bit, I ignored it. I did not mind that she was often in our company because her attention seemed to be fixated more on Fanny. But since she noticed I had taken a special interest in you…" He knew he was flushed, his face felt quite warm. Admitting how he felt for Margaret, was a little uncomfortable, but her soft smile made him go on. "She has been extra attentive to me. Today, she came to the mill and expected to have lunch with me. It was not by my invitation." He shook his head. "She simply arrived. I had just returned from market and thankfully, my mother was on the main floor, doing her rounds, and could join me in my office where Miss Latimer was waiting. If I were alone with the woman, she would surely use it to her advantage, maybe even say I compromised her."

"Oh, dear," Margaret said.

He nodded. "It has become very uncomfortable to be near her. This afternoon I explained to her that you and I are courting. She was upset, as her mother and Fanny had both planted it in her mind that I would choose to marry her."

"But it was me you kissed." She smiled coyly.

He smiled back. "And if you allow it, Miss Hale, I will continue to do so."

She nodded. "Yes, please? Thank you for explaining Ann. I did wonder at first if you were not connected."

"When was it you realized I wanted you, not her?" John asked.

She smiled. "At the operetta when you made certain I was sitting next to you."

"Quite right, my love." He nodded. "Quite right." He leaned forward and kissed her softly on her rosy lips.

The carriage began to slow, and he looked away from Margaret's beautiful smile. Her proximity to him made his body tingle. He wondered, not for the first time, how long he had to court her before he could simply propose marriage. He would have to be patient, he knew, because her mother was leaving soon and her life would change once again. Patience, John, Patience.

John helped her from the carriage. She was falling in love with this man. Except for his initial reaction to her brother, nothing could make him more perfect for her. She had only known him a short time, but even so, he was proving to be all she had ever dreamed to find in a perfect husband. She still was not certain Milton was the place for her, but she would continue to do her best to fit in, regardless of the attacks on her family.

John paid the driver and then took her hand and threaded it through the crook of his arm, drawing her close.

"Do not be nervous." He smiled down at her. "I will be with you."

"I am grateful. This is just becoming too much for me," she admitted dejectedly.

"We shall get through it together," he assured her with a squeeze on the hand threaded through his arm.

She nodded, warmed inside and believing what he said to be true. He opened the constable's door for her and allowed her inside before him. The clerk at the front desk was the same man who had been there when she came with Mrs. Williams weeks earlier.

"Is Sergeant Snipes available?" John asked.

The clerk nodded, got up from his desk, and led them down the hallway. Margaret's heart began pounding, nervous about what Snipes would now say about her family. Not only was a dead man found at her house, but now a secret note on a rock was thrown through her window. Having lived such a quiet, private life, this was a lot for Margaret to absorb.

The clerk announced them, "Sergeant. Mr. Thornton and Miss Hale are here to see you."

She was impressed the clerk remembered her name. She peeked around John's shoulder and saw Snipes rise from his desk and wave them inside. John placed his hand gently on her lower back to guide her inside ahead of him. Shivers of pleasure ran up her spine. Oh, how she liked it when he touched her!

"Miss Hale, have a seat, please?" Snipes offered. "How can I help you, Mr. Thornton?"

"It is Miss Hale that needs to fill out a report with you, Sergeant." John sat on a chair to her right.

"Alright." Snipes shifted his gaze to her and then returned to his seat.

She looked away from him and reached inside her bag to remove the rock. The more she held it the more uncomfortable it made her feel. She placed it on his desk and sat back against her chair.

"You brought me a rock?" he asked, in an incredulous tone.

John's foot tapped hers. She thought it was to give her support. She sat up a bit straighter.

"Yes, Sergeant, I brought you a rock. Someone threw that through our window."

He stared at her for several heartbeats before he looked down at the rock.

"You should have left it at your house and had one of my constables come to see it."

John cleared his throat, likely ready to defend her, but Snipes cut him off.

"Mr. Thornton, Miss Hale disturbed the scene," Snipes argued.

"Yes, she did," John agreed. "However, the maid was already sweeping up the glass when Miss Hale arrived home, so it was already disturbed."

"There's a note on it?" Snipes asked.

"Yes, so it appears," Margaret answered softly. "I did not want to open it without a law person."

"You went to Mr. Thornton, first?" Snipes looked offended.

John fixed Snipes with a glare. "Miss Hale and I are courting, Sergeant. It was natural that she comes to me when her father is unavailable."

"I had no idea," Snipes said. "Miss Hale, people have reported to me that you and Mr. Lewis have been keeping company."

"Pardon?" she whispered.

"Yes. You have been seen at his dress shop almost every day."

"Are you having me watched?" she asked, incredulous.

Snipes cleared his throat and looked at John.

"You are, aren't you?" She frowned at John. "Why?"

"Mr. Thornton is not having you watched, Miss Hale." Snipes stared hard at John.

John sighed. "I asked Snipes to get more information from the Navy about your brother, to see if there was any chance, he was here in Milton and could have been involved with the murder at your house."

For a moment she was upset John had gone behind her back, however, it was prudent on his part, as Magistrate to do so. But there was no reason to have her followed.

"Sergeant, are you having someone follow me?" she demanded. "Did you not trust me when I said I did not know the dead man?"

"Yes, Miss Hale you are being watched," Snipes admitted. "It was not that I did not trust you, it is simply an odd case and I wanted to be certain to follow up on any leads."

She glanced at John who looked at her apologetically. "I had to tell him, Margaret. What if it is related to Frederick? Do you not wish to know?"

"Well, yes, of course, but why have me followed?"

"Because," John said, "If Frederick is here, he may try to secretly contact you, away from your parents, because he does not wish to have them injured."

"Sergeant, please take the note off the rock," she asked. "I have been carrying around that thing for hours and I want to know what it says."

She did not look at John. She did not relish explaining to him why she was at Threads every day for over a week. She would tell him the truth, of course. She would always tell him the truth.

Snipes untied the two thin strips of leather that crossed the rock at opposite angles, making an 'x'. The paper was very wrinkled, and some small pieces of glass fell out on Snipes' desk as he unfolded the note and flattened it so it could be read.

Snipes cleared his throat and read the note, "Freddy no u b ere. We find u soon."

After a moment, John said, "Well, he is not very literate."

Snipes handed John the note. He shared it with Margaret and they read it again, silently. He looked at her and she nodded, saying she was done reading.

"Someone thinks my brother is staying at our home," Margaret stated.

John shocked her by taking her hand. In front of Snipes! "Margaret, Sergeant Snipes has to search your house."

She wanted to be affronted, but it was obvious that the police needed to search her house.

However… "Sergeant Snipes, why would I have brought this to you if my brother was living with us?"

"You did not know, that I knew about your brother," Snipes replied logically.

"But Mr. Thornton did," she argued. "I brought it straight to him and we came to you."

"Margaret," John said softly. "You must allow Sergeant Snipes to come and search your whole house."

She frowned. "What about my mother? What shall I say? She has no idea of anything going on around the house or in Milton. She is living in her own little world." Margaret blinked away tears that began to form. This was all too much!

John squeezed her hand and leaned toward her, "It will be all right," he soothed. "You know Frederick is not in your house, just let Snipes confirm it."

She nodded. "What shall I tell my mother?"

"Perhaps just tell her there have been break-ins in Crampton. Snipes and his men will be quick looking in your mother's room. Is that not correct, Snipes?" John looked at the sergeant.

"Yes, unless there is something that appears amiss," Snipes said.

"Must you bring many men with you or might you just do it yourself?" she asked.

"I need to bring men with me, Miss Hale," Snipes answered, firmly.

She nodded. "Very well. Can we go now and get it over with?" Agitation and nervousness made her pop out of her seat. She looked at John. "Can you find someone to board up the window until it can be repaired?"

John stood and nodded. "I will see to it. You do remember I have my meeting tonight?"

She nodded. "I do, yes."

How she wished he would say he would skip the meeting to help her, instead. She recalled the conversation she had with Mrs. Thornton about the priority of Marlborough Mills in his life. This, she supposed was the second example of how much it consumed him. The first had been the very obvious pride he had for his factory when he took her on the tour.

"I will drop you at home and then arrange a board to be added to your window. Would you mind if Mr. Williams, did it?"

"That will be fine, Mr. Thornton. Thank you." She turned to Snipes. "My maid was worried about keeping the house warm tonight. She and my mother are now at home. I am not certain when my father will arrive."

Snipes stood. "I will need to enter the house before you, Miss Hale. If you arrive before we do, please stay outside or in the carriage until we get there."

"My maid is there. Could I be with you when you interrogate my mother?"

"I do not plan to question her, Miss Hale. I am only searching the house for evidence of your brother," Snipes answered. "Remember, do not leave the carriage before I arrive."

"Let us be off?" John suggested.

"I will go out the back way," Snipes said. "Do not be alarmed by all the men I will have with me, Miss Hale. The search will be quicker and more efficient if I include more of my men."

She nodded, and left the office first, retracing the steps down the hallway to the main entrance. She smiled at the clerk who politely stood as she and John walked by. He did not speak a word to her, but hailed another carriage and helped her inside.

It was reminiscent of the trip they took together following their walk-out after she exposed the secret of her brother. She did not like his attitude and decided it was rather the last pin to be removed from her hair before her life came tumbling down.

"Mr. Thornton, why are you ignoring me?"

He glanced at her briefly and then back out the window at the dull landscape he had seen no less than one hundred times.

"Well?" she demanded. Now she sounded like a harpy fishwife, but it worked.

"What have you been doing with Rupert Lewis every day?" he asked.

"Why, thank you for asking." She smiled brightly. She thought jealousy was the reason he was pouting, but she wanted him to say it. She stood up and plopped next to him on the opposite bench. "I was at Threads," she was careful not to say Rupert's name, "every day making my dress for the Harvest Ball."

He frowned. "You were making it? You made your own dress?"

She nodded, pleased. "And, it is quite beautiful, if I do say so, myself."

"Why did you do that?" he demanded. "Did Lewis not have one that suited you or time to make something?"

"He has beautiful dresses, Mr. Thornton and I'm not terribly difficult to please. As a former draper's assistant, I am certain you have encountered your fair share of demanding people, but I am not one."

"I did." He nodded curtly. "You have not answered my question, though. Why did you make your own gown?"

"Several reasons, actually, and none of them have to do with the owner of the shop." She rolled her eyes at him. "When I heard about the Harvest Ball, you and I had been forming a friendship, and thus, I had hoped you would invite me as your guest. So, I began working on an appropriate gown that would make me look nice, and make you proud to have chosen me to be your guest. Perhaps, I was tired of hearing Mrs. Latimer saying how brilliant her daughter was and I wanted to upstage her." She shrugged. "Rather petty, I know."

"You did not think Lewis could make that fancy of a gown?" he asked. "He has constructed many for my mother and Fanny."

"I had no idea if he could, but I knew I could. I made several beautiful gowns for myself while I was in London. The main reason I had to do the work myself is rather embarrassing."

He took her hand in his. "Tell me."

"Well…. As you know, my family's finances are very tight. I did not want to burden my father further by asking for money for a new gown. I knew my dresses stored in London were not quite right for the evening, and I was not certain Aunt Shaw could have them sent promptly."

His hand tightened on hers. A muscle twitched in his jaw before he asked. "And just how did you… compensate… Lewis for the dress, Margaret?"

"I should slap you for what you are suggesting." She rose to move to the other bench again, but he held her next to him.

"I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask," he huffed.

"Yes, it was," she agreed in a whisper. "Really John, you are the only man I have kissed. How could you even insinuate?"

"I am sorry, love. Forgive me. I do know better." He kissed her temple.

She went back to the explanation. "I asked Mr. Lewis first to create a credit account for me and thought I could pay it off in time, as I had always done in London. Of course, being new in town he did not know me well enough to extend such a privilege, so I came up with a scheme." She let him take her hand again, soothed by his genuine apology. "I asked him to keep an account of the materials I used and watch me sew my dress together so I could display for him just how fastidious I am with my sewing. I told him that if he was pleased with my skills, I would work off the cost of materials in his shop during the weeks following the ball. I also suggested that the dress would draw many women's attention and his dresses would be sought after. You see, I do know the updated styles as Aunt Shaw's modiste was French. I know Miss Latimer might seem more worldly, but I assure you, she is not."

He chuckled. It seemed his gentle lamb had hidden fangs. "You are correct, love. In fact, after your insightful questions on the mill tour, I feel as if I could talk with you about anything. His hand moved from hers and circled her shoulders, drawing her closer to his side. "So, you bartered?" He gave her a tight squeeze, a look of sheer happiness on his face. "What a brilliant idea, Margaret. I think you might turn into a proper business partner after all."

She chuckled. "I know nothing about business, John. I only knew that I need what he had, and I could offer him my sewing skills in trade."

"That is the very basic foundation of business. You supply people with what you have, at a price they are willing to pay you and still allow for room for a few coins of profit in your pocket."

She chuckled. "If only it were that easy! You have hundreds of employees to see to, machines to keep running, buildings to maintain, and Lord only knows what else you do!"

He kissed her temple. "I do not interfere with the lives of my employees except when they are on my clock, being paid. Mr. Williams is a great help with all the rest."

"May I ask you to please never refuse to speak with me when you are angry? After our walk, I was very sad. I only agreed to go to the ball with Mr. Lewis because my dress was almost complete and I did not wish to waste it. He asked me out of pity." She shook her head. She nervously cleared her throat and lowered her voice. "You should know, John, he confided in me that he prefers the company of men."

"I see." He nodded. "Well, I need not be jealous of him then?"

She shook her head, surprised by his calm reaction to such an admission. "Not at all."

"I do remember your father mentioning a man in London pursuing you by the name of Lennox."

She nodded. "Yes, that is true. Edith married Captain Sholto Lennox and his brother is called Henry. She got it in her mind it might be exciting if we wed brothers. Henry is a very nice man, but I have no attachment to him romantically."

The carriage pulled to a halt and they reluctantly pulled apart.

"Ah, we are here," John said.

He hugged her again before she slipped back to the opposite bench. She watched out the window as Sergeant Snipes and his officers pulled up next to them. Snipes tapped on the carriage door and then opened it.

"Miss Hale," Snipes said. "I have decided that it would be best if you come with me as I search the house."

She glanced at John who nodded in agreement. "If anything is amiss you will be able to explain it," he explained.

"Very well." She climbed from the carriage. Turning back, she expected John to follow her out. "You are not coming?"

He shook his head. "I will arrange for Williams to come this evening and board up the window."

"Thank you very much. Dixon will be relieved." Margaret was still hurt that he was more interested in attending his meeting than helping her at this trying time. "Enjoy your meeting." She tried to sound lighthearted and even smiled, but her heart was heavy.

"I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Hale," John said. "If you need something, let Mr. Williams know and he will locate me."

Snipes closed the carriage door and she followed behind the sergeant to the front door. Before climbing the steps to the house, she turned to watch John pulling away, hoping he would change his mind and decide to stay with her, instead. It was locked as Margaret would have expected, so she knocked and waited for Dixon.

The maid answered, a questioning look on her face. "Miss Margaret?"

"Dixon," Margaret said calmly, as she entered the house. "Sergeant Snipes and his men need to come inside and look around the house for evidence related to the broken window. "Please do whatever they ask."

"But, your mother?" Dixon sputtered.

"Sergeant Snipes will treat her with gentleness." She glanced over her shoulder at the sergeant, pleased when he nodded. Margaret turned back to Dixon. "Is Papa home yet?"

Dixon shook her head.

Margaret took off her outer gear and handed it all to Dixon. She reached for Snipes' coat but he shook his head. "I will leave my coat on."

"Very well, Sergeant." She sighed. "Where shall we begin?"