"The most proudly independent man depends on those around him for their insensible influence on his character- his life."
~Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South
Chapter Seventeen
"Hello, Mrs. Donaldson!" Margaret had left her mother's room to answer the knock at the door. "How nice to see you, please come in."
Dixon was still upstairs packing with Margaret's mother. They had collectively decided to go to London the following morning, instead of Saturday. Her mother said she had no reason to stay the extra day, and she further shocked Margaret by fully participating and even organizing the whole packing operation.
Mrs. Donaldson hugged her and then kissed each cheek. Margaret took Mrs. Donaldson's gloves and coat and hung them on the coat tree next to the door.
"I was so unhappy you weren't at Marlborough Mills today." Mrs. Donaldson squeezed Margaret's hands. "I have wonderful news for you."
"Oh?" Margaret asked over her shoulder as she led Mrs. Donaldson into her father's study. "Would you like some tea?"
"Gracious, no. I had too much at Mrs. Thornton. She is a very thorough hostess." Mrs. Donaldson laughed.
Margaret offered Mrs. Donaldson a seat on the sofa and sat next to her.
"So, what is the good news?" Margaret smiled and then folded her hands in her lap.
"Oh, the Penrod baby came!" Mrs. Donaldson said, with a clap of her hands. "It's an adorable little baby girl. Oh, she is simply precious."
"She is early, isn't she?"
Mrs. Donaldson nodded. "I am not certain how early, but the baby is tiny. Healthy, but tiny."
"How wonderful! Is Mrs. Penrod well? I cannot wait to meet the little one." Margaret smiled.
"Yes, both child and mama are well. I am quite glad to hear that you want to go visit. In fact, I was hoping you would come with me this evening to deliver the baskets. With the Harvest Ball tomorrow, I did not wish to rush you in your preparations. You missed all the excitement at Mrs. Thornton's today. Everyone was so animated about it, talking about the food, the decorations, and even the music. This first ball of the season is always very thrilling. Well, they all are, but this being the first tends to be most exciting."
"You seem very enthused." Margaret laughed.
"I am." She grinned. "A woman of my age does not have much to look forward to. The ball will be a fun night and I am so very glad you will be able to attend."
"I had hoped my mother would see me fully dressed for the evening, and our maid could do my hair, but they are leaving tomorrow morning. Mama has not been this happy since we arrived in Milton." Margaret lowered her voice. "I think perhaps it is a wise decision to send her to London."
"It sounds as if it might be." Mrs. Donaldson nodded thoughtfully. "May I say goodbye to her? I truly wish I had been given an opportunity to know her better. She and I could have become good friends."
"You still may. I am hopeful she will spend perhaps a month at a time here and then return to London." Margaret stood. "I believe she would welcome your visit. Then we can go to Princeton? I am anxious to see the baby and visit with Bessy, too."
"Yes, that will work out just fine. I have the charity baskets already packed in my carriage. On Saturday, we will meet later at the church to put together Sunday's baskets, so we may get extra sleep." Mrs. Donaldson chuckled as she stood. "Prepare for your feet to be quite sore from dancing. The music is always quite good. The group tomorrow is coming from Blackpool."
Mrs. Donaldson followed Margaret up the stairs. Dixon was standing outside her mother's door looking inside. Her mother was talking, but Margaret couldn't hear what she was saying in her quiet voice. Dixon turned her gaze toward her as they neared.
"Mrs. Donaldson has come to wish Mama a good holiday," Margaret told Dixon.
Dixon stood aside and allowed Mrs. Donaldson to move inside. While they were visiting, Margaret ran upstairs to change into a better dress. Packing was a sweaty business, and she wanted to look decent on her trip to Princeton. No one would likely take notice of what she wore, but if she was seen by people in the area, she needed to take into account her new relationship with John. Even though there was no formal arrangement between the two, she did not want her behavior to reflect badly on him.
Mrs. Donaldson was waiting in the hall.
"Are you ready?" Margaret asked as she descended the stairs from the attic.
"Yes. I wished your mother safe travels and an enjoyable time in London," Mrs. Donaldson said.
Dixon was still standing at the threshold of Margaret's mother's door. "I am going with Mrs. Donaldson to deliver the baskets to Princeton today."
"Will you be home for dinner?" Dixon asked.
Margaret glanced at Mrs. Donaldson. "It depends how long you want to cuddle the new baby," she said, smiling.
"I probably will not be home for dinner." Margaret peeked inside her mother's room. "That will give you and Papa some time alone before your departure." Margaret smiled gently at her mother.
Her mother scoffed. "We have been married thirty years, child. One evening or even a month apart will not change anything."
To Margaret, that sounded rather ominous. Did her mother no longer want to be married to her father? Rather than question it, Margaret allowed it to pass without comment. She would pray that her mother would return to Milton with an entirely different attitude.
"If you are sleeping when I arrive home, I will see you in the morning," Margaret said. "Goodbye, Dixon."
"Have you a message for Mr. Thornton?" Dixon asked Margaret.
"I should be home before he is done with his studies," she answered.
Within minutes they were dressed, and out the door and climbing into the Donaldson's carriage. There were three prepared baskets on one side of the carriage, so they sat on the opposite.
"Did everyone attend the sewing meeting today?" Margaret asked. She wondered if Ann Latimer had come again to play the piano or not.
"Yes, all the same people from Tuesday. Mr. Lewis also came and took orders. I must tell you; I found a new project to begin. The sampler is all in red! Mr. Lewis said he could find some silks for it, he always does a fine job matching our needs. I had worried you were ill when Mrs. Thornton said you would not be joining us. That was part of the reason I came to call."
"Packing," Margaret sighed. "I feel as though I just packed everything to move north and now, I have packed again to move it south." She chuckled.
"Perhaps things will become more stable and constant in your home if you do not have to worry about your mother's health?"
Had Mrs. Donaldson not noticed the boarded-up window. Oh no, she would not have. Dixon had insisted on keeping the curtain pulled closed. Margaret was more nervous about the attacks on their family than her mother's behavior.
"I certainly hope so. I think it has been difficult for my father. He is gone so much, however, he did spend as much time trying to encourage Mama's interaction as Dixon and I have."
"Who will cook for you?" Mrs. Donaldson asked. "My goodness, I hadn't thought about losing your only maid."
Margaret smiled. "We will make do. Fortunately, Papa is not a particular eater and does not mind simple meals. I imagine some nights will be cheese sandwiches." She chuckled.
"That is not so bad, then. My husband would not accept that, I fear. For him, it must be a robust evening meal. He's often away at noonday, so we pack some food for him to take along on his calls. When he arrives home, he is always famished."
Margaret chuckled. "He is not a large man to have such an appetite."
"True," Mrs. Donaldson answered. "He does like to eat, though. I hope he can continue to be busy well into old age or he will likely gain weight. He also has quite a sweet tooth."
"I am coming to think many men do," Margaret said. "My father, Mr. Thornton, and also your dear husband."
"I think, Margaret, my dear, Mr. Thornton is simply sweet on you." Mrs. Donaldson winked at her.
She felt a flush crawl up her neck into her cheeks.
"Now do not get embarrassed, dear, it is just the two of us and we are friends, are we not? Mrs. Thornton and I have decided to serve as your surrogate mothers since your dear mama will be far away."
"You decided this, did you?" Margaret chuckled.
"We did. You have made a good impression on all of the sewing ladies. We will make certain you are safe and cared for since your mother cannot."
Margaret smiled at her. "Thank you." Somehow, she doubted Mrs. Latimer offered her help.
Mrs. Donaldson looked out the window as the carriage slowed. "I instructed my driver to park just on the edge of the main road through Princeton. It seems we have arrived. We will do our usual route, eh?"
"Yes." Margaret nodded just before she climbed out.
Mrs. Donaldson handed Margaret the two smaller baskets and carried down the bigger one as she left the carriage. She instructed the driver to wait and together they walked down the dirt road leading into Princeton. At this time of day, the neighborhood was virtually deserted. A few, older women, with children playing nearby, were outside their homes washing laundry. They ceased their discussion as Margaret and Mrs. Donaldson neared.
Margaret wished them a good day, and although they gave her polite nods, it was obvious they were wary of her. She would earn their trust slowly, she supposed. Delivering baskets was a start, perhaps she could do more in the future. She had no idea what sort of things they might need. In Helstone she would collect blankets and coats for the poor as it became cold, but here… was there anyone to collect gently used items from, except perhaps those families within the sewing circle?
They stopped at the old lady's house. As she had done the past weeks, Margaret set the basket on the step, knocked, and left. She wondered what sort of gift the lady would leave for them today when they returned for the basket. Last week it had been more ointment for Dr. Donaldson's sore knee, but the crone had added a special packet of tea which she had labeled as 'sleep' tea. Mrs. Donaldson said that it was very effective and that she rarely gave it out, so it must mean she was coming to like Margaret. Margaret had given the tea to her mother one night and she had, indeed, slept soundly.
When they reached Bessy Higgins' home, Margaret was surprised to see the door propped halfway open. She knocked on the door and went in as soon as Bessy called out. Margaret smiled at the frail young woman, still in her nightgown, resting in bed.
"Is today Friday, then?" Bessy asked as she struggled to sit up straight in her bed.
"Oh, no. I have come a day early, Bessy," Margaret said. "Tomorrow will be a busy day for me, and I wanted to have some time to visit with you."
"Oh, I see Miss, thank yo'."
"How are you feeling today?" Margaret asked. She set the basket on the table, and Mary, Bessy's younger sister, appeared from the shadows to help unpack it. "And how are you, Mary?"
Mary could not speak; she was able to only grunt responses. She was able to cook and keep their small home clean, but Margaret was not certain how bright the girl was. Mrs. Donaldson said Mary was dead at birth but had been revived. During the short time, she was unable to breathe, her brain was somehow damaged. She said she had seen it before, and that there was no true cure, just training to do menial tasks.
"Margaret, I am going to move on to Mrs. Penrod's home. Will you meet me there when you and Bessy finish your visit?"
"Yes." Margaret smiled. "Bessy, Mrs. Penrod had a baby girl."
"Is she well?" Bessy asked as Margaret sat on the chair next to her bed.
"I believe so. I forgot to ask what day the baby was born. It could have been anytime between Tuesday evening and early this morning. I did not even ask the child's name! How silly of me!"
Margaret always tried to act light-hearted around Bessy. Margaret had never been much of an actress, but she did her best when she was with Bessy.
"When yo' visit yo' will see," Bessy said quietly.
"You seem rather low today, Bessy. Is something new troubling you? Would you like me to read from the bible?"
"No, not the bible today." She shook her blonde, white-capped head. Margaret thought Bessy was losing her hair, and that was why she insisted on piling it all inside the cap. She would never ask, but stray locks were always on Bessy's pillows.
"Do you wish to talk about something else?"
Bessy glanced around Margaret toward her sister. "She don't understand, 'cept that Da and another man, a neighbor were arguing loud this morning," Bessy whispered.
"Arguing over what?"
"The neighbor, Mr. Boucher, is trying to make Da lead a strike at the mills. He don't think none of 'em get paid right."
"A strike?" Margaret whispered. "Oh, my! Did they say when?"
Bessy nodded. "Saturday at five on the dot. That's why I worried today was Friday. I'm hopin' Da will change his mind before it happens."
"Your father works for Mr. Hamper," Margaret stated. "Does Mr. Boucher also?"
"He does."
"Will it just be a strike at Hamper's, then?"
"No, Miss. When one mill walks out, all do." Bessy started to cry. "The last strike was so 'ard on Da. I wish he'd listen to me and stop it."
Margaret took her hand and squeezed it. "Men can be stubborn creatures."
"Aye," Bessy chuckled through the tears. She sniffed. "They can be."
"What happens in a strike?" Margaret had read about strikes happening but had no idea how it would affect a town like Milton.
"Miss, have you never seen one?"
Margaret shook her head. "This is the only town I have lived in with factories. The farmers in Helstone never went on strike, and in London?" She shrugged. "If it happened it was in small businesses, not the whole town."
"Everything shuts down, Miss. People will wander the streets. Fights break out. There ain't no money neither, so people go hungry."
Margaret's stomach fell. "How long will that go on?"
Bessy shrugged her thin shoulders. "Depends. The mill masters ain't making no money if'n they ain't got their hands to work. If the mill has money, they can stay off work longer. Hamper don't got that kinda money, Miss."
Margaret thought John was in a good position, but she could not say. It was impolite to discuss money with a man unless he was your husband and perhaps even then it was unacceptable. Money was a man's business. Husbands gave their wives budgets or spending money and somehow they had to operate a house within those financial limits.
Margaret had never asked her father for even a farthing since coming to Milton, nor had he offered. Was that odd? Perhaps her father did not think she needed pin money? She had been frugal with the allowance Aunt Shaw gave her, and still had a good bit saved, but her father should offer her some recompense for all the work she did to get them to Milton, get them settled, and try to keep her mother happy. Internally Margaret shook herself. She was helping her family, she did not need any money or anything her father was already not providing; thus, she would be grateful, not resentful.
Looking around the tiny home Bessy lived in with her father and her sister, it was easy to remind herself of her blessings. She had her health, while Bessy was dying. She had food on the table, while Bessy had to rely on others to help her. Yes, Margaret was blessed. No one lived without challenges, not even the queen.
Bessy's eyes were drooping. She was sleeping more during their visits, and Margaret feared she would soon be joining Mrs. Higgins in heaven. Margaret prayed with her each time she came, and it seemed Bessy was ready to go home to Jesus. She was not in pain, and although her breathing was becoming more and more labored, she appeared calm, accepting of the end coming soon.
"Bessy," Margaret whispered. "I am going to leave for now and meet Mrs. Penrod's baby. I will pray for you and your family."
"Miss, you did not say why yo' are here today and not on Friday."
Margaret stood. "Oh, yes. My mother is leaving for London in the morning so I will be busy getting her to the train station." She smiled. "Also, I have been invited to attend the Harvest Ball tomorrow."
"That be the fancy one at the men's special club?" Bessy asked.
"Yes."
"But them ladies dress so grand!" said Bessy, with an anxious look at Margaret's simple print gown.
Margaret's face dimpled up into a merry laugh. "Thank you, Bessy, for thinking so kindly about my looking nice among all the smart people. But I've plenty of grand gowns. One, in particular, will work quite well."
"What will yo' wear? Oh, how I wish I could see you. With your goodness, I should be loth to have yo' looked down upon."
"I believe even the fine ladies in Milton will be impressed by my dress." She smiled down at Bessy and put her hand upon her shoulder. Squeezing it gently, Margaret said, "I will see you soon."
Margaret said goodbye to Mary and squinted after walking into the bright light of the day. Once her eyes adjusted, she turned toward the Penrod home. Mary was needed by Bessy, but Mrs. Penrod could come and work for the Hales. Margaret had little experience with babies, but surely Mrs. Penrod could see to the small needs Margaret and her father might need.
John was finishing his lessons, just at eight, when he heard Dixon's heavy footsteps moving toward the main front door of the Hale's home in Crampton. He prayed it was Margaret arriving home. He did not like the idea of her being in the Princeton district after dark, even if she was in the company of Mrs. Donaldson. Mr. Hale did not seem troubled, but then again, he did not know the area as John did.
Relief washed over him when he heard her sweet voice thanking Dixon for taking her coat. When she asked about him, John smiled.
"I think we are done for the night?" Mr. Hale asked him, grinning.
"Am I so obvious?" John asked.
"I am not troubled by it," Mr. Hale said. "You are a fine man. A fine man. Maria and I have both agreed you will be warmly welcomed into our small family should you decide to pursue Margaret further."
John leaned forward. "If she will have me."
"Patience, my boy, patience," Mr. Hale stood as Margaret entered the room. Mr. Hale clapped John on his shoulder encouraging him to move closer to the door just as Margaret came inside.
She looked tired, and a bit pale.
"Oh, thank goodness," she said. Walking forward she reached out her hands to him. "I was worried you would be gone before I arrived home."
John lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling down at her. "We just finished reading."
"Oh good," she said. Still holding on to his hand, she walked around him and kissed her father's cheek.
"Was your trip difficult this evening?" Mr. Hale asked Margaret.
"No, not particularly. Just two nice visits, but I learned so much today," she answered.
She dropped John's hand and proceeded him and her father to the sitting area of the room. Dixon came with the tea tray and after she sat, he joined her on the couch. He usually sat opposite her, but as there was no objection, he made himself comfortable, close to her side.
"Your mother said Mrs. Donaldson came to fetch you. She was surprised the doctor's wife made it a point to say goodbye to her."
"Mrs. Donaldson is a wonderful person and has been so welcoming," Margaret said.
She set to pouring and handing out cups to him and her father. He watched her hands, so small and soft. He knew she worked hard to help their maid, especially today with packing, but her nails were clean and trimmed.
"Are you tired, Margaret?" he asked.
She nodded, chuckling. "Is it obvious? Today has been a long day. Oh, yes, that reminds me. John, would you help Papa or me carry down my mother's trunks?"
Her father laughed. "My dear, we have already seen to it."
Her eyes widened. "You did?"
John laughed. "You did not notice them in the hallway when you arrived home?"
"No!" She giggled. "I think I was too anxious to see you."
Her father cleared his throat.
"Well, Papa, it's true." She smiled. "I have something I must tell John. Something I learned while I was in Princeton." She chuckled. "Don't frown, John, I did want to see you. I missed lunch with you and the sewing time to help Mama pack, but I wanted to see you tonight."
"I am glad," John told her. "I was willing to wait for you to come home, just to be certain you are safe."
"Thank you for sending Mr. Williams to fix the window," she said.
"That is part of my duties in managing these properties for Mr. Bell. However, I would have done it for you anyway."
"Thank you. Papa and I both showed Snipes around the home. Of course, he did not find anything that might answer who threw the rock or killed the man on our back steps."
John nodded. "Snipes came today and reported the same. He did say there was a broken window in the attic. I ordered a new window for the attic and one for the broken one down here. I figured I ought to get them replaced at the same time."
"Thank you," she said. "Did you see my mother?"
"Yes, when your father and I carried down her trunks. I wished her a nice holiday." John looked across at Mr. Hale and then back at her. "I suggested that perhaps we, you and I, and your father could travel to see her at Christmas time. Fanny has always wanted to go, and I imagine London is spectacular at holiday time."
"It is." Margaret nodded. "Will your mother come along? That would be a lovely trip."
"I will suggest it." He smiled.
He did have a bit of an ulterior motive in mind. He was hopeful her aunt might host an engagement party for them. It would allow Margaret to see her friends and family, and then they could marry in Milton. John imagined most of her friends would not come so far north for a wedding. Perhaps he was moving ahead too quickly but he had made a decision, and just as he would in business, he would do his best to get what he wanted- Margaret for his wife.
Mr. Hale finished his cup of tea and set it on the tray. "I will spend some time with your mother before I retire for the evening. I trust you will be a good hostess to John, Margaret?"
"Yes, Papa." She smiled. "I will do my best. Sleep well."
"Good night, John," Mr. Hale said. "You did well in tonight's lesson."
"Thank you. I seem to be recalling more than I expected to."
With Mr. Hale gone, and his footsteps clicking as he trudged up the stairs, John leaned forward and kissed Margaret's cheek.
"Thank you." She smiled at him and reached forward to caress his cheek. "And how was your day."
"Disappointing, until now," he answered.
He leaned forward again and this time she met him halfway allowing him to touch his lips to hers. It was a quick gentle kiss and left him wanting more. Mr. Hale's suggestion of patience echoed in his mind.
"Better?" she whispered.
"Much better." He smiled. "Now, what did you learn in Princeton? I must tell you, I do not like you being in that area after dark, Margaret. It is not safe."
She nodded. "I will say I was a little nervous. I would have been quite frightened without Mrs. Donaldson."
"She is well known in that area. They have come to accept her. But you are new, and so I just ask that you please take care." He set his empty cup on the table.
"You are not leaving already, are you?"
"He chuckled. No." He grinned. "Would you be angry if I did?"
"Yes, I believe I would be." She faked a pout.
"So, tell me what you learned today."
"The best thing I experienced was holding my first newborn baby. Do you remember me mentioning Mrs. Penrod? The woman whose husband worked for Mr. Hamper who died?"
John nodded. "I do."
"She had her baby." Margaret's face glowed. "It is a very tiny little girl. She has little curly tufts of blonde hair." She laughed. "I was afraid I would drop her even though she is no bigger than a loaf of bread." She held out her hand as wide as a loaf of bread.
"I hope she weighs a bit more?"
"Not much," Margaret admitted. "She arrived early and Mrs. Donaldson is not certain how early, however, she seems quite healthy. Her lungs are certainly developed. She is already willing to show her displeasure quite loudly." Her wide smile lit up her face.
"I have never held a baby," John admitted. "Well, I suppose I held Fanny when I was younger. I have not been around many children, either."
"Do you want a family?" she whispered.
"I do." He raised his brows. "And, you, now that you have dealt with a wiggling, screaming little banshee of a girl?"
She laughed. "A banshee!" She hugged his side. "I expect I will get better at holding a wiggling little person. Yes, I would like children. Edith was not happy as a single child. I think that is why Aunt Shaw invited me to stay with them. And, Freddy was so much older than me, I never really knew him. So, if I have children, I would want several, and close in age."
"Fanny and I are many years apart, as you know that. I think I would have liked a brother, and Fanny may have liked a sister, although she enjoyed Mother's attention."
"I must tell you, I have invited Mrs. Penrod to move in here when she is recovered. She was excited to accept Dixon's position."
"That was kind of you," John said.
"It was selfish," Margaret said. "I will need help to maintain this house. Now then, I learned something from Bessy which I much tell you about." She reached forward and took both of John's hands in hers. "You know Bessy's father is a union organizer?"
"Higgins? Yes, I know his name."
"I am not truly certain what a union organizer does, but…" She frowned and squeezed his hands once again. "I wish I did not have to tell you this…"
"Tell me, love," he said. He knew what she was going to say, but he wanted to hear how she would tell him.
"I do not know what this will mean for you, and Marlborough Mills, but Bessy told me she overheard her father and another man, called Boucher, arguing over striking a strike."
Her eyes were concerned and wide when she looked up at him.
"Are you not concerned?" she demanded. "Or do you not believe me?"
He chuckled and drew her close to his side. "Yes, of course, I believe in you. I already knew this was coming already yesterday. I wanted very much to stay with you when Snipes was here, but the mill master meeting was very important last night. We had to discuss how we would handle the threat of the strike. The hands often threatened to go on strike, but they rarely go through with it. They have mouths to feed, and if they are not working, they will not be paid."
"I thought you left me just because your meeting was more important to you."
John shook his head. "No, love. I would have gladly stayed with you if there was not an imminent strike looming and plans that we mill masters had to arrange. I trust Sergeant Snipes or I would not have left you. I am sorry if I hurt your feelings or distressed you."
"Thank you for clearing that up. Your mother warned me that the mill will always come first to you, and I was concerned I was seeing this happen already." She kissed his cheek. "Now I understand. Can you please just tell me the full story in the future? Sadly, my mind starts to wander to negative things, even though I know you are a good man, and I trust you completely."
"I could not say anything until the meeting was over. I did not even tell my mother until this afternoon at lunch. Had you been there," he bopped her gently on the nose, "I would have shared it with you then, too. I do not wish for there to be secrets between us."
"Me, either," she answered quickly.
This time she bent forward and kissed him. He pulled her close. As much as he wanted to deepen the kiss, he knew he couldn't not just yet, anyway. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers.
"Margaret?" He was breathless
"Yes?" Her voice sounded the same.
He cupped her cheeks. "I am falling in love with you."
Her head shot up. "Truly? Oh, John."
She melted into his embrace and he kissed her head. "I trust this pleases you?" he whispered.
"Yes," her voice was muffled by the coat of his jacket.
"I'm glad," he answered. "Now, I must tell you what a strike means to Marlborough Mills and my family.
She pulled back and looked up at him. "Tell me."
"When the mill goes silent, obviously nothing is being produced. If it goes on too long, it will begin to affect my family's budget. I do have sufficient funds to pay the loans I have and enough to keep Williams working if he chooses to. If it goes on for a very long time, then I will have to consider hiring people from other areas."
"What about the workers you have? What will happen to them?"
"It is up to them to decide if they wish to come back to work, or remain idle. My mill already compensates workers higher than the other mills for every position. I do not hire the little children as other mills do, because I feel strongly that children deserve to have a childhood. I was forced to begin working far too young, and I know I missed many carefree days. And, the mills are so dangerous for young people and everyone, really. Look at your Mr. Penrod for an example. So, love, when you and I go walking in the park again, please know it is as much for my pleasure as it is for yours."
She pushed away a lock of his hair from his forehead. "Where will you find new people to hire? Where will they live?"
"I cannot say just yet as nothing had been finalized. As soon as we know for certain what the future holds, I will tell you. Did Bessy tell you when they were planning to strike?"
"Yes, she said five o'clock on Saturday evening."
He nodded. "That is what we have heard as well." He sighed. "It does not give us much time to prepare. I will have all my orders finished by tomorrow unless they slow the work down out of spite. The other orders are not due until after the first of the year. I think of all the mills Marlborough is in the best shape. I have good workers. I pray they will not strike, and if they do, it will be just a short time."
"Will you hire them all back? Won't you be angry or hold a grudge? I think I would. They should be loyal to you. You're a good man."
He laughed. "You are thinking with your feelings not logically. There are a limited number of workers to split between the mills. I do have good workers, but I would be foolish to not realize I need them as much as they need me."
"Bessy said the longer it drags on the worse it will be for all of Milton. Masters and workers alike."
"She is correct. However, I will not let it affect what you and I are building together." He caressed her cheek. "You may see a side of me you have not yet seen, so I hope you will not judge me harshly. I can be… ruthless… when I need to be, although I prefer not to be. I will never behave that way toward you, of course, but rumors may fly. I ask that you come to me if you feel any uncertainty or concern over what you hear."
She nodded. "I will."
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Walk me to the door?"
