Chapter Twenty-Three
Monday morning dawned with even more pain than she had experienced the previous day. Perhaps she had done too much on Sunday, or maybe her mother's bed was not as comfortable as the bed she had been assigned at the Thorntons home. She was definitely not as pampered here as she had been by Jane and Mrs. Thornton's other maids.
Beside the pain, her first thought was what her father told her the night before. She was tucked into bed when he finally came home from the prison. He woke her, even though he apologized for doing so. He said he needed to talk with her, to share his experience.
He had spent almost two hours visiting with Freddy. It was obvious from his swollen eyes he had done a fair bit of crying. He said he was so thankful to John for allowing him the opportunity to see Freddy one final time. They all knew what was coming, it had been pending for years. Now all they had to do was accept the inevitable and somehow move forward.
According to her father, Freddy was tired of hiding and running. He was ready to accept his punishment. The mutiny charges would not be easy to beat, but he knew he needed a capable attorney to help him. The best choice was Henry Lennox.
Her father asked her to help construct a letter to Henry. Of course, she could not write with her broken arm, but she did assist her father in wording the letter so Henry would realize how important it was to their family that he be the one to represent Frederick. Her father had no idea, or so she thought, that Henry had asked to court her just before she left London. Margaret did like him, but she saw him as a friend, nothing more.
Now, having kissed John, she was even more convinced she had made the right choice. She could never imagine having feelings as strong for Henry as she did for John. Milton was not what she might call a pleasant town, but perhaps in time, with Mrs. Thornton's and Mrs. Donaldson's assistance, she could make changes for the better. John was well respected. He employed many people in the town, and if they did wed….
Wait! She moaned. That buggar! She turned on her back and snapped her eyes closed to stop the room from spinning. In her pain induced mind fog, she had actually forgotten she was mad at John! How dare he test her like he did! He knew her brother was there, in the jail. He even knew exactly which man he was. He did not need her to say number seventeen, yet, he had forced her, in her condition, go to the awful jail to identify Freddy. What a load of bullocks. In anger, she pounded the bed with her left hand. Yes. She was mad at him. She had trusted him with her deepest secrets but he did not trust her! She had never ever given him a reason to doubt her, yet he did.
She prodded her injured eye with her left hand, wondering how swollen it still was. She had not seen herself in a mirror, knowing that seeing the damage would make her angry, and probably sad, too. Neither feeling would improve her condition, indeed, it may well make her feel worse. That whole evening, which Margaret had hoped would solidify her relationship with John had been ruined by her brother and his ruffian friends. Now that she had time to process the situation, she was even angrier with Freddy.
Men!
She sighed. Mrs. Penrod had placed a small brass bell on the table next to the bed for Margaret to summon her as needed. She rang it with as much gusto as she could muster. Her door stood wide, allowing the ringing to be heard below stairs.
And what about Steven; the little boy who John had given them? Margaret decided she was mad at John for that as well. He might have done the right thing, allowing the boy to leave the jail, but why did he bring Steven here instead of the mill house? She was mad at him for that also. She should simply start a list of complaints against him so the next time she saw him she could give him a good tongue lashing. She moaned again. Since she could not write, she'd have to remember it all.
"Good morning, Miss Margaret. How glad I am to see you awake." Mrs. Penrod was smiling as she bustled in the room. She already looked so much healthier here than she had in the home in Princeton. The pink was back in her cheeks and her smile was sincere.
She set a tray of tea and crumpets on the table next to the bed. She moved the two medicine bottles aside to make room, and then helped Margaret plump her pillows and sit upright.
"Thank you," Margaret said. "Is my father at home?"
"Yes, Miss. He asked that I tell him when you woke up. He also needs to know the name of the tailor on New Street. The young man now living here needs some clothing that fits properly."
"Mr. Rupert Lewis," Margaret answered right away. "The shop is called Threads. If you send a messenger to him, I think he will likely come in person to visit."
"You are friends?"
"We are." Margaret accepted the tea Mrs. Penrod offered her. It tasted delicious. Maybe she was just so parched anything would be good.
"Would you like a crumpet?" Mrs. Penrod smiled at her. "I made them just this morning. Your father seemed pleased."
Margaret watched her butter one of the rolls. "Papa is easy to please. We can go over menus once my head stops throbbing. There is really nothing he does not eat. I do not like mutton or lamb, otherwise I eat anything. Except eel. I had that once in London and was almost ill at the table."
"Yes, Miss. No eel or mutton." Mrs. Penrod placed the roll on a small plate and handed it to Margaret. Folding her hands in front of her, she said, "I will send a message to Threads and tell your papa you are awake. Do you need anything else?"
Margaret shook her head no as she chewed on her bread. "This is very good!"
Mrs. Penrod smiled. "Thank you! I will return in just a few minutes to collect the tray and help you with medication. You should not take it on an empty stomach."
"Thank you, Mrs. Penrod."
Mrs. Penrod shook her head. Margaret could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. "It is I that should be thanking you, Miss Margaret. I am not certain where my baby and I would be without your kindness."
"I think it must have been planned by God." Margaret smiled. "I cannot cook, and with Dixon gone with my mother, Papa and I would have likely starved. I am so very sorry you lost your husband, though, and am glad that Papa and I can make life a bit easier."
"You have indeed." Mrs. Penrod walked toward the door. "I shall return, but will tell your father you are ready to see him."
Margaret did not answer, instead she enjoyed the warm bread and tea. She was so hungry that she could devour ten of the rolls, but she knew she had to eat slowly and not very much, or her empty stomach would surely revolt.
She heard her father's footsteps on the stairs, and turned toward the door unsurprised to see his gray head poking inside.
"Good morning, Margaret. May I come in?"
"Of course." She swallowed a tiny sip of tea, and set the cup back on the saucer on her lap.
"How are you feeling today?" he asked.
"Not well, Papa," she admitted. "My head still hurts quite fiercely. However, my arm is not as painful and it looks like my hand is not as swollen." She held up her right arm to show him.
"We must get some medicine in you, for your head." He walked to the table and picked up the bottle of pain medicine. "Have you eaten a crumpet?"
"Yes. It was delicious. I do hope it stays down. Yesterday my stomach was rolling so much I feared I would vomit."
"This has been a very difficult few days for you, my dear."
He spooned out the medicine and reluctantly, she opened her mouth like a baby bird waiting to be fed. It was so bitter; it made her gag.
"Are you alright, my dear?"
"Hmm Hmm." She could not speak for fear of spitting the stuff out.
"More tea?" He set down the medicine.
In answer, she handed him her cup and saucer.
"I sent a messenger to Threads for Steven's clothing. I could not remember Mr. Lewis' name." He shook his head. "I know he was the first to invite you to the Harvest Dinner, but his name escaped me."
He topped off her cup and handed it back to her before sitting in the upholstered chair next to the bed. He shifted so he could see her, and then crossed his legs.
"I also sent a letter to your mother this morning. I am not certain how she will react. I was very honest about the entire situation." He paused and looked away from Margaret. "I did consider waiting, but I worried the newspapers might get a hold of the story before she knew, and I did not wish for her to learn about Fred that way. It would make the situation even more painful. Also, If Mr. Lennox arrived at the Shaw's house, I had to be certain she knew why. Do you think I made the correct decision?"
She swallowed and then said, "Yes, I do. It will upset her no matter how she learns about it, but hearing it from you might soften the pain. It is best that she is prepared for what is to come."
"Do you think I ought to go to the court hearing today?"
She chewed her bottom lip before answering. "Do you wish to?"
He shrugged and leaned back in the chair. "I cannot say anything to sway the judge. Perhaps my presence will give Freddy strength?"
"Or embarrassment?" she whispered. "Grouped with rough men of uncertain backgrounds, he might feel as if he has disappointed you. When he was in Spain, we could all pretend he was not involved in anything untoward. Now, you cannot deny evidence showing he is capable of hurting others." She pointed to the stitches in her head. "Apparently he is comfortable with arson as well."
He nodded, silently. "I just must pray this will not make your mother even worse. When she left here, I thought she was in better spirits, did you not?"
"I did," she agreed. "She was quite looking forward to seeing Aunt Shaw."
His brow furrowed. "It did not occur to me yesterday, but why did you come here after the jail rather than the Thornton's house?"
She grinned. "This is my home, is it not?"
He chuckled. "Yes. And it would not be much of a home were it not for all your hard work when we first arrived. John said he told his driver to take you to the mill house. I expected you would stay there until you were feeling better. Mrs. Thornton's servants would better attend you."
"I do not like how John treated me yesterday. He expected me to lie to him about Frederick. Papa, he knew Fred was there and he was testing me to decide if he could trust me." She sighed. "I have given him no reason to doubt me, yet he obviously does."
"He is the magistrate, Margaret. It is normal for him to question and be skeptical of everyone, even if his heart tells him differently."
"He has spoken of a shared future with me, yet he does not believe I will always be honest with him?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "He knew it would be hard for you to speak against your brother. You know John is a very stern man, and I think he always stands tall for what is right, no matter the result."
"But to assume I would lie?"
He nodded. "I did think he knew you better. Tell me, if Fred had not hurt you, would you still have identified him?"
She sighed. "I would have." The medicine was slowly taking effect. "It hurt my heart to call Freddy out. In truth, if I saw him walking down the street, I do not think I would have turned him in. Seeing him in jail changed my mind, though. He remains involved in illegal behavior. After escaping a mutiny charge and death, I would have expected him to reform his life, return to the good person he once was. Obviously, he has not."
"The man I spoke with yesterday is not the boy I raised. Perhaps it is good you learn how John behaves now. I would hate for your feelings to become even more involved and then realize he does not hold you in the highest regard. You cannot have a partner who does not trust you will do what is right and proper."
"I thought he did," she whispered. How it bothered her that he did not.
"Men can be foolish, my dear. I for one, am. I tried to ignore your mother's health because it worried me and I did not wish to confront the problem. I have done this far more often than I should."
"Avoiding conflict?"
"Yes. I hesitate when I must make difficult decisions. I put the decisions off until I no longer can, and just like our move here, my procrastination hinders everyone. The worries build and build until I must act."
He was correct, and it seemed he had finally set aside his rose-colored glasses. Admitting how hard it was for him, gentled her judgement of his behavior, and the anger she felt when he pressured her to make decisions for the family, disappeared.
"Papa, you could not be a minister of the church when you no longer agreed with its doctrine. Your integrity prevented you from that. You did what was right. Just as I did with Frederick, no matter how difficult it was to see him in jail."
He shrugged. "In my heart, I do not doubt my decision to leave the church. If I could go back, I would choose a place for us other than Milton. I did not expect your mother to have such a difficult transition."
"You could not have known. You lived for so very long in Helstone, I am surprised Mama did not want to live somewhere else during all that time."
"She did. London. She wanted to be closer to her sister and be able to enjoy the sights and excitements of the city. She loved the theater and musicals. You know how many things are available there." His sigh came from deep within him. "I was so content in the country. She became comfortable. I expected it would take time for her to adjust here, too, but I underestimated the differences in Milton."
Milton was unlike anywhere Margaret had lived or even visited. The people were different, not only their accents, but the way they saw life. In certain places like Princeton, there was so much despair. The night of the Harvest Dinner, Margaret had seen a whole other group of people who were similar to the tradesmen class of London, which she had associated with. The Milton businessmen had a higher degree of arrogance because here, they were the top of the economic ladder. Members of the peerage did not live in Milton, thus there was no competition for status, only a monetary comparison and competition between the business owners.
Moving to Milton had lowered their family's economic status. Even though her father was a clergyman, son of a gentleman, and her mother's father was a baron of some consequence, it did not matter here. Milton people judged others by the size of their bank accounts. Despite Papa's manners, education and family living, he would never be equal to the mill masters. That did not bother Margaret or her father, but it had irritated her mother, who was used to being respected just because she was the minister's wife. Perhaps that was the problem with settling here; she no longer had any clout in the community in which they lived.
Mama could have made a difference here. She could have helped with the charity baskets. She could have attended the stitching gatherings and learned how to fit in, just as Margaret was attempting. She had so many options to become involved in Milton, but instead, she chose to remain here in her room day in and out. Margaret hoped Aunt Shaw could encourage her mother to leave the house once in a while, while in London, for short walks if nothing else.
"Would you like me to help you up so you can move around?" her father offered.
She was hesitant to do too much today. She had been in so much pain when she arrived home from the jail yesterday, she reasoned today might be a good day to remain in bed again.
"Perhaps in a little bit? Yesterday was a bit too much for me, so soon after my injures." Had the attack only been three days earlier?
"Very well, my dear." He stood and awkwardly straightened the blankets for her. "Would you like a book? Perhaps a nice Gothic novel?"
She smiled at him. "A novel from the Bronte sisters, perhaps?"
She had read them all more than once, but they provided entertainment, and somehow a bit of calm. There was something about John that reminded her of Rochester; not the mad wife in the attic, but perhaps his disposition.
"I will see what I can find. Perhaps Steven will bring it up to you, if you do not mind him coming in your chamber?"
"That is fine, Papa. You will not have to climb the stairs again if he does."
He chuckled. "I must confess that was exactly my thought." He kissed her temple and took away her tea things. "If you feel inclined to sleep, you ought to."
"Yes, Papa, I shall.
It was well after dinner time when John finally arrived at the Hale's home. He had tried to get there at different points throughout the day, but something or someone seemed to impede his departure. He rapped on the door, expecting Mr. Hale to answer, but instead a pretty young blonde opened the door.
"Yes?" she inquired.
He remembered they hired a maid to take Dixon's place. "Mrs. Penrod, is it not?"
She nodded. "And you, sir?"
"I am John Thornton."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest. "Mr. Hale said to expect you on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Today is Monday."
"Yes, I will come for study those days," John agreed. "Today is a personal visit."
"Oh." She seemed to ponder what to do.
"May I come in?" he suggested.
"Dear me, yes, of course." She opened the door wide and allowed him inside. "I apologize, Mr. Thornton. I have never been a housemaid. I am learning as I go along." She closed the door behind him as he entered.
He smiled at her politely. "You have a very fine family to work for, Mrs. Penrod. Generally, when I arrive, I will hand you my hat," which he did, "and then my gloves which you may place inside. Dixon put them on the table just there." He pointed to a long, tall table against the wall, just inside the door. "I usually depart for home after she has retired for the evening, and Miss Hale sees me out. I hang my coat on the hook above the table or if it is wet, I place it near the fireplace in Mr. Hale's office."
"It sounds like you are quite familiar with this routine." She seemed almost amazed.
He nodded. "Yes. At some point during the evening, Miss Hale or Dixon would bring in a tea tray for Mr. Hale and I to enjoy. It is usually nine o'clock when I leave. Do not become concerned if you hear lively debate. We speak on many topics and often one of us has a rather fixed view on a subject."
He pulled off his coat and hung it up. "Mr. Hale is in his study?"
"Aye, with Steven. He has decided to teach the boy how to read."
"Very good." He had hoped that was exactly what would happen. Mr. Hale needed someone who needed him, and Steven definitely did. "And, Miss Hale?"
"She is resting," Mrs. Penrod answered and tipped her head toward the stairs.
He waited a moment for her to elaborate, but she did not.
"Dixon never announced me to the Hales. I generally just go inside."
"Very good, Mr. Thornton. I appreciate your directions. Today has been a flurry of visitors."
"Oh?" he asked.
She nodded and he thought she did look a bit tired. "Dr. and Mrs. Donaldson were here for quite some time, seeing to Miss Margaret, and then Mr. Lewis came to fit little Steven for clothing. Mrs. Williams came to check on Miss Margaret and then one of Mr. Hale's students arrived." She sighed. "This is a busier household than I expected it to, with only a father and daughter."
He chuckled at her surprised expression. "Generally, it is a very quiet home except for Mr. Hale's students who visit. But with Miss Hale injured, I am certain many people are wanting to see to her welfare."
Mrs. Penrod nodded. "She is such a dear young woman. I will never forget the kindness she has shown me."
He could not agree more, so with a brief nod, he walked down the narrow hallway and into the study. Mr. Hale was reading to Steven on the couch. The little boy was so close to the older man, he was almost on his lap.
"Good evening, Mr. Hale," John said quietly, hoping not to startle the man.
Mr. Hale shifted on the couch and removed his spectacles. "Oh, John! Well, hello."
Steven bolted off the couch and ran into John, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Mr. Thornton. You have sent me to a wonderful place."
John awkwardly patted Steven's back. The only experience he had with children was Fanny, and that was a decade ago.
"You must promise to behave here. Mr. and Miss Hale expect you to help and learn as much as you can."
Steven had to back up several paces to look up at John. Eyes wide, he looked up at John. "Mr. Hale says I can stay forever."
John glanced at Mr. Hale. The older man shrugged. "You are very fortunate, then, as this home is far better than the streets or jail."
Steven's eyes widened. "Yes, sir!"
Mr. Hale stood. "Steven, you should ready yourself for bed. Check in with Mrs. Penrod to see if she is in need of your help, do as she asks, and then go up to bed. She or I will check on you in a bit."
Steven rushed out of the room, failing to say goodbye to either man.
John chuckled. "I do like his enthusiasm."
Mr. Hale extended his hand and John shook it in greeting.
"He is definitely trying to please. This was a fine idea, John. He has a good mind and I expect in time he will be reading like my best students his age. I was thinking… Perhaps you could set aside some funds for him to attend a school? It is just a suggestion of course, but I can prepare him for it, and once he graduates, perhaps he could find employment within your mill or another?"
"That had occurred to me, as well," John admitted with a grin. "Williams will not want to work until he dies and when Steven is the right age to take over, I will give Williams his pension."
"That is a fine idea. A fine idea, indeed. Please, have a seat," Mr. Hale waved to the chairs across from the couch where he had been sitting. "It is a cold night. I am certain the fire with thaw you out." He sat in the other chair. "We did not expect you this evening."
"How could I not come?" John asked. "Margaret is injured and I must know how she is."
Mr. Hale sighed with a nod. "Of course, you must be concerned." Mr. Hale rubbed his hands on his legs. "She is not bouncing back as quickly as I hoped she would. Dr. Donaldson and his wife came to check on her just before noon. He is satisfied with her progress, but she remains in a great deal of pain."
John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his folded hands drop in front of him. "I suppose she would not allow me to see her?"
Mr. Hale shook his head. "Not tonight. Perhaps in a few days."
"A few days?" John stormed. "Mr. Hale, you ask too much of me."
"John, I will say this as gently as I can. Margaret is not pleased with you at the moment. Because of that, I will not subject her to seeing you and possibly feeling worse than she already does."
"She's angry with me?" John asked. Of course, she was angry with him. "Is it because I forced her to go to the jail? Is that why she demanded my driver bring her here instead of the mill house?"
"Yes," Mr. Hale answered simply. "She is not so irritated about the jail itself, but what you required her to do when there."
"Identify Frederick?"
Mr. Hale nodded, and then looked away, into the fire. "She feels you did not trust her to identify Freddy. She thinks you expected her to lie for him."
He looked down at his folded hands. This was going to be a rough conversation, but he had to be honest with Mr. Hale. John hoped the other man would soon be his father-in-law and to mislead him would not be wise.
"I am not certain what I was thinking. I did not know how she would react when she saw him. Even though Frederick had hurt her, I worried she would let him escape the punishment. I admit it. I did not trust her to make the right decision."
"And yet you hope one day she will marry you? Knowing you do not trust her?"
John shook his head. "This is not a simple thing, such as over spending her monthly allowance or some other small indiscretion. She was forced to decide between the law and her family."
"You do not know her very well," Mr. Hale said quietly. "I have never known her to do anything wrong. Even when she was young, she would admit to being naughty before Maria and I even realized she had erred. I am displeased she was placed in such a position by Frederick, but I am proud of her. When she spoke with me, before leaving the jail, she made certain she was doing the right thing by telling you. Her heart was heavy with guilt, knowing she was placing her brother's neck in the hangman's noose."
John sat back against the couch. "Snipes and I decided Frederick would be tried as his alias, Derrick Heal. He received the same punishment by the judge as the other men did. They will be housed at the jail for one year. In that time. they will be forced to clean up the remains of the building which the fire destroyed and then they will be required to help rebuild, under the supervision of the prison guards. Snipes has sent for extra officers from Liverpool to effectively monitor the men."
"After the year, Fred will be sent to London?"
John met Mr. Hale's eyes. "That is the plan, yes. I thought that might allow more time for your family attorney to create a viable defense for him to face the mutiny charge. Also, it will give you and perhaps Mrs. Hale time to visit him."
Mr. Hale shook "I have said my farewells to him. Frederick is an embarrassment to our family. To make matters worse, he showed no regret for his behavior. He did not learn from his mistake. I have sent a letter to our attorney, Henry Lennox. I expect he will come here as soon as he receives the letter. He and Margaret were… particular friends."
"She had a beau in London?" John took a deep breath through his nose. She specifically said she did not!
"No. Not a beau. Lennox never asked permission to court Margaret, but Anna Shaw hinted at his interest in her when I saw him last at my niece Edith's wedding. She married Henry's brother, Captain Lennox.
"If he was not a beau, what then?" John grumbled.
"A family friend? I believe he cared more about her than she did him. Anna would write us with updates about Margaret and Henry's name was often in the letters."
"I see." He felt the muscle in his jaw tighten. "There is no doubt that she and I are courting, is there?"
"No," Mr. Hale shook his head. "Maria and I both approve of your courtship. However, I think you will need to explain to Margaret why you did not trust her. She fears this will expand to all areas of your association."
John sighed. "I suppose you must be right, Mr. Hale. If I did know her better, I would have given her credit for having infallible integrity."
Mr. Hale shook his head. "We all make mistakes, John. Just know that Margaret is a deep thinker. She has never been impulsive. What you see of Margaret's behavior is what you will always receive."
He nodded. "May I do anything to ease her pain?"
Mrs. Hale shook his head. "I believe time is what she needs at the moment. A letter might cheer her up. Perhaps you can explain why you questioned her trustworthiness."
"With your permission I shall do that before I leave. I am anxious to speak with her face to face."
Mr. Hale nodded. "I am not certain when she will be willing to let you look at her. She is not a vain girl, but she is far from looking her best. Odd, is it not? On Friday last, she was the loveliest I have ever seen her, with the exception of the day she was born. I was so happy to have a daughter, and she has been a wonderful one. Sadly, Friday was also the day she looked her very worst."
They also wrote a letter to her mother. Freddy was always her favorite, although it never bothered Margaret, not overly much, anyway. She spent so little time in Helstone after Fred had left for the Navy, Margaret learned it was more important what Aunt Shaw and Edith thought of her. In London, Margaret was also second fiddle, but at least she was treated well.