~Chapter 20~
Julia stood at the train station, wondering how she had ever thought she could climb aboard an iron monster spewing smoke and embers. She had, of course, seen trains come and go with such regularity that she did not even notice their rumble or shrill shriek; yet, to ride within it seemed another thing entirely. She nervously tucked a wisp of sunshine yellow hair behind her ear and tugged her bonnet, borrowed from Samantha since she had only one outside of her uniform and that one had been stepped on by her baby brother last week, into place.
"Come, Julia," Margaret said, her irritation evident at finding her 'companion' more than a few steps behind. She entered the compartment and closed her eyes, leaning back and wishing away the miles that would take her far from this place and the heartache it represented.
Unable to create an excuse that would remove her need to board the train, Julia swallowed hard against the fear in her throat and followed the mistress. Settling their traveling bags, Julia sat and held her breath, bracing herself for the moment that the train would move. Finally, with a screech and a hiss and the rumble of wheels turning, the large train began to ease away from the station. Soon it had gained such speed that Julia forgot her fear and watched in dizzy fascination as Milton disappeared and other towns and bits of open land in between flew by.
Some six hours later, as Julia's stomach began to growl insistently, she eyed the basket lunch that Molly had prepared. Mrs. Margaret Thornton had placed it on the seat beside her, but almost immediately fell asleep and leaned heavily on the arm she had propped on the basket lid. The train slowed yet again, an event un-noteworthy enough until the conductor called, "London, London, London!" Her hunger not quite forgotten, Julia nevertheless began to gather items to carry from the train car, hoping that the noise would wake her mistress. Mrs. Margaret Thornton did not so much as stir.
"Mistress," Julia called. Still no movement from the sleeping woman. Reluctantly, Julia reached out a hand and patted the sleeping woman's knee.
Margaret woke to a light touch and realized with a start that the train was still. Much like a sailor after a long voyage, she felt oddly off balance. "Have you everything," she asked Julia, stifling a yawn behind her hand and then straightening her bonnet.
"Aye," Julia answered, lifting her hands to display the basket and satchel she held.
Margaret nodded in approval and motioned that the two should disembark. "We must find a Hackney carriage, as I did not forewarn my cousin of our arrival," Margaret explained, stepping forth from their car.
"Miss Hale –er – Mrs. Thornton!"
Margaret turned towards the sound of her name and to her surprise found Henry Lennox waving his kerchief in her direction.
"Henry," she cried, "Whatever brings you here?"
"Your husband," he responded, hoping that the word did not sound as it tasted in his mouth – sour, "sent a man ahead on the evening train to ensure you safe passage to my brother's home."
Margaret smiled at her husband's thoughtfulness, blinking back tears. In the next moment, though, she almost laughed as her mind supplied an image of John's face should he ever learn that his action brought Henry Lennox to serve as rescuer.
"Shall we go?" Henry asked. Margaret took his proffered arm in answer.
As the Lennox carriage began its journey through London, Margaret wondered absently if London had become dirtier or if time had falsely colored her memories of the city. Indeed, if the buildings and roads were smaller and the landscape more hilly, she might have believed herself returned to Milton. When at last they reached the city home of Captain and Mrs. Lennox, Margaret's stomach twisted in sudden excitement. Now, she thought, I will begin to be happy.
And for an evening she was. Edith greeted Margaret in the front room, filling Margaret's arms immediately with an uncomfortably overdressed Sholto. The child cried at being handed over to someone unfamiliar. Pulling him close, Margaret rocked and soothed him, reveling in his warm weight and sweet baby smell.
"Come, Margaret," Edith urged. "You must have had a long journey. Sit and I will tell you everything; for, while you have been in the wilds of the north, much has happened in civilization."
Margaret ignored the cut at Milton and, through it, her life there. She glanced at Julia, standing uncertainly in the doorway. "My maid…" she began.
"Brownstein," Edith called, waving at her maid, who stood statue-still in a corner. "Show Miss H – Mrs. Thornton's maid to the kitchen and have Hendrick instruct her."
Dismissed, Julia followed the tall maid in crisp livery down the basement stairs to the kitchen. There, she received a rundown of the household and was assigned a room before being shown to Mrs. Thornton's bedroom, where she unpacked, shaking the wrinkles out of the clothing.
Back in the front room, Margaret found her mind drifting as Edith recited the latest news. She cared nothing for the drama and dirty secrets that Edith enjoyed. Finally, a yawn that Margaret tried to hold back caught Edith's notice.
"You are exhausted," her cousin declared. "Brownstein will show you to your room." Edith motioned again to the maid, who had returned to her station. "Lie down until you are summoned for supper," Edith insisted.
As Margaret lay alone in the bed, her thoughts turned to her husband, who tonight would lie alone in their bed. Tears began to slip one by one from under her closed lids, running down the sides of her face and dampening the pillow. When the time came to rise, she felt less refreshed than when her rest had begun.
Although Margaret had not yet been gone from Milton for an entire day, John felt her absence with every breath. Despite usually not seeing his wife before the supper hour, the knowledge of her absence ballooned in his mind, ruining his attention. He stayed late at the mill, though, unable to face the empty place at the dinner table and in his heart.
The next week dragged on so for Margaret. She found no peace in the parties and outings that Edith contrived for them. Naturally, she loved her cousin and appreciated the time together. Yet, walks through the luxurious shops and stops at fancy tea rooms only served to accentuate how entirely Margaret's temperament did not mesh with London society. She gave coins to the beggars on street corners, despite Edith's protests. She simply could not fathom how one bolt of white linen differed so from another that they must spend near to half an hour discussing the merits of each before deciding on neither. Yet, the most pressing source of her discomfort came from the continued biting remarks that Edith made towards Margaret's home and husband.
"It is far superior to any cotton," Edith stated in the draper's, holding up both bolts of linen.
"Civilization has its price," Edith insisted, at Margaret's gasp over the cost of tea and biscuits in one tea room.
"Gentlemen are surely more prevalent in the south," Edith declared, as one such man held yet another door for the two ladies. "In fact, I have yet to find proof that the species inhabits the northern climate."
Rather than convince Margaret of the need to remain in London, as Edith intended, these statements increased Margaret's longing for Milton and all who inhabited it, most especially one gentleman in particular. But I cannot go back, she reminded herself.
Thus, it was no large disappointment when Edith discovered that General and Mrs. Andrews simply could not extend their invitation to stay at their country home to another individual, despite her relation to Captain and Mrs. Lennox.
"It is no large matter, Edith," Margaret assured her pouting cousin over tea with the Captain and Henry. "Two days of quiet would like as not do me good."
"Margaret," Henry suggested, setting his empty teacup on the sideboard, "I have these two days off and since Edith will be unable entertain you, perhaps we might visit Helstone. I have made the acquaintance of a gentleman you might know, a Mr. Brown, who lives at Stonley Abbey near to your parents' home."
"Mr. Brown attended my father's parish," Margaret responded, holding her cup out to Edith to be refilled.
"He has asked me repeatedly to stay with him whenever I am in the area. We might stay the night there."
Margaret smiled, delighted. "Oh, Henry, it would be the greatest comfort to go home, even if only for a visit. You are too good!"
"Yes, Henry," Edith added, "you show your kindheartedness at every turn." It really was such a shame that Margaret had married that Milton man instead of dear Henry. She pursed her lips, wondering what damage a good divorce might do to Margaret if mended quickly by new marriage.
"Then it is settled," Henry stated. "Tomorrow we away to Helstone."
That night, Margaret could scarcely sleep from excitement at the prospect of returning home. She just knew it would lift her spirits as London never could, despite her cousin's best efforts.
And yet, it did not. Walking through Helstone, Margaret had thought to be surrounded by happy memories but was instead assaulted by the many small changes that together transformed the hamlet into a strange place with only hints of familiarity. The new parson and his family had so modified her family home that it, especially, alienated Margaret. She placed a smile upon her face to avoid disappointing Henry and agreed to his suggestion of a picnic lunch on the grounds.
"Go and tell the cook at Stonley Abbey to make up a picnic lunch and return with it here," Mr. Lennox ordered Julia. She turned at once to do as she was bid, but once out of sight could not help but stop for a moment to stroke the rich green grass. It never grew so thick and bright in Milton and, had London a blade of the stuff, Julia had not seen it. She thought of Billy Thompson and the estate where he worked. Perhaps she had been foolish to turn him down when he offered her a chance at this other life. Straightening, she continued on, but her eyes soaked in the clear blue sky and lush landscape.
As the maid hurried off, Henry steered Margaret through the remnants of her mother's garden. "Edith has pressed upon me the news of your recent unhappiness," he stated. At Margaret's gasp of surprise, he quickly added, "you must not be cross with her; Edith knows of my continued feelings for you and wished to assess whether I would be willing to marry a divorcee."
At that, Margaret pulled her arm from his grasp. "Edith overreaches," she declared, "I am not, nor will I ever be, a divorcee."
"Will he not release you then?" Henry asked, attempting to retake Margaret's arm, but she would not allow it.
"I will not release myself," Margaret returned, her face burning passionately at the very thought. "Although the Church of England sanctions divorce, my father never did."
Henry nodded, accepting it. He seated himself on a nearby bench and patted the spot beside him. Margaret, however, chose the bench opposite him. "I have a second offer," Henry stated, attempting to control the pace of his words, "I still love you and would be willing to overlook your marriage and take up relations with you." Shock would not allow Margaret to form words. "We could live separately, I would provide you a place in London near your cousin, so as to avoid scandal."
Margaret could take no more. "Henry," she interrupted, raising her hand to silence him. "You have taken leave of your senses. Not only would I never demean myself in that manner, but I love and respect my husband. The pain that I escape has not erased it."
"So again you flirt for my attention and then deny me?" Henry snarled, his expression twisting into one foreign and frightening to Margaret. Yet, his words were so outrageous that her own anger overcame fear.
"Flirt?" Margaret scoffed. "You are the brother-in-law of my cousin and, I had thought, a dear friend. Considering your words this day, I can no longer name you as the latter. You are a fool if you truly believed my affections anything more."
Henry opened his mouth to respond, but Margaret rose. "We are finished," she declared. "I am returning to the house and in the morning my maid and I will return by train to London. You shall not accompany us." She turned and marched in the direction that Julia had taken.
Furious, Henry stormed off. His thoughts flew wild at having again been humiliated and denied. This treatment would not go unpunished. Margaret Hale – Thornton – whoever – carried herself far above her true station, acting as highborn as her cousin when, in truth, her station had been raised even by that ridiculous marriage. By the time he came upon Stonley Abbey, having taken a circuitous route, his plan was formed. Entering by the back way, he startled the lower servants but managed to find Margaret's maid. "Come with me," he demanded, and a frightened Julia found herself following.
He located the back stairs and climbed the tight staircase to the bedrooms. When Julia balked at entering Henry's bedchamber, he grabbed her roughly by the arm. "If you resist," he hissed, "I will inform your mistress that you entered my bedchamber and attempted to seduce me. You will lose your place and your reputation in one move."
Terrified, Julia knew he was right. She stepped into the room, trembling when Mr. Lennox shut the door decisively. "Undress," he barked.
Fingers fumbling, Julia nevertheless removed her uniform and, at his next order, lay on the bed. She closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into her palms, unable to stop the whimpering tears that followed. When the man had finished, she dressed and was about to quit the room when he turned from the washstand.
"Take the sheets," Henry ordered. "You've bloodied them. Be sure to have more sent to my room." The maid gathered them quickly and rushed out.
Julia dropped the sheets in the laundry pile, glad not to meet another of the household staff along the way. She helped herself to bed linens, left them outside Mr. Lennox's room for another maid to find and then made her way to the room she had been assigned, where she sat frozen on the hard mattress for some time. A knock at the door startled her so that she jumped to her feet.
"You are wanted by Mrs. Thornton," the housekeeper stated.
"Aye," Julia responded. She splashed water on her red eyes and straightened her cap before going forth.
"Julia," Margaret called, when her maid knocked softly and entered her bed chamber, "we need - " Here she broke off, having just glanced up at the girl. "What happened?"
"It is nothing, miss," Julia responded, her heart pounding in her throat as her mind returned to what had happened.
"Homesickness?" Margaret guessed, thinking of how alien she had found Milton after living in Helstone all her life.
"Aye," Julia lied, although it was not quite a falsehood, for she could think of no place farther from this one and the man who had stolen her virtue.
"We must pack," Margaret stated, finishing her earlier sentence. "We leave in the morning."
"For Milton?" Julia asked, her tone revealing the longing she felt for that place. She pulled the trunk from its place at the foot of the bed towards the wardrobe in which Mrs. Thornton's belongings hung.
"Nay," Margaret answered, sorry that she had not been clearer. "To London."
They reached London at the two o-clock hour, having left Helstone with nary a backwards glance from either passenger at seven in the morning. Julia found an unaccompanied Hackney carriage and gave the Lennox address. She glanced about frequently while they waited for the driver to load the trunk. The possibility that Mr. Lennox had caught the same train sent her stomach churning. Yet, even had he not, he would likely return to his brother's house this day.
Margaret expected to find the house empty of all but household staff. The butler, however, greeted her with the news, "A Mrs. Hannah Thornton awaits you in the parlour." Worried at her mother-in-law's unexpected visit, Margaret hurried into the room, twisting a piece of her skirt between two fingers.
"Margaret," Hannah greeted her daughter-in-law, rising and shaking her hand in the customary Milton greeting.
"Is anything wrong?" Margaret asked.
"Aye," Hannah responded, carefully tasting her words before sending them forth, "You are separated from your husband."
"I visit my cousin," Margaret responded, blushing at the insinuation.
"Be that as it may," Hannah went on, "my son is – " She struggled for a word that would not emasculate her son. Crushed, no. Mourning, no. " – not himself," she finally finished, unsatisfied her selection. Hannah gathered Margaret's gloved hands in her own in a rare display of feeling and said, "Tell me you are happy here, Margaret, and I will leave; for, my son would trade his own happiness for yours."
Margaret could not form the lie. She felt again the sorrow that had descended at the thought of John, her husband, alone. He was sure to take all the world's cares on his shoulders, as he so often did, but had no one with whom to find comfort.
"I want to return to my husband." The words burst from her, having dwelt unspoken within since she had first entered this house.
Hannah squeezed the dear girl's hands, a smile taking shape on her usually stern lips and lighting her dark eyes. "Let us go," she said. And so they did. Once Margaret had written and left a letter for her cousin, the trunk had been placed again on a carriage and the three headed for the train station, where they purchased tickets for the four o'clock train north. Then, the two Mrs. Thorntons settled on a bench in companionable silence with Julia standing nearby.
"Margaret!" Henry started, surprised to see her at the station and more shocked by the woman beside her. From Edith's description, it was sure to be Mrs. Hannah Thornton.
"Mr. Lennox," Margaret responded, her voice and her nod of recognition civil but cold.
Standing nearby, Julia felt her head spin at the sound of the man's voice. Every fiber of her being screamed to begin running and never stop. What if he should accompany them to Milton? There would be no open space in the train car except the seat beside her. Julia felt tears of terror begin to prick her eyes. But no, he continued on his way. Yet, might he not come another time? How had she thought herself safe in Milton?
When at last the train stopped before the dark station in Milton, Hannah sent Julia for two carriages, explaining to Margaret that she had sent her things ahead of her to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Watson accompanied by a letter in which she had written that she would arrive in the night or the following morning. Margaret felt only the slightest sting at the reminder of Fanny's condition, her mind consumed with the need to see her husband. She watched eagerly as the tiny houses and cobblestone streets fell behind them. At last, they entered the mill yard and Margaret left her belongings and Julia behind in her haste to reach her husband.
Julia watched the trunk unloaded, thanked the man, and went to find Mr. Bates so that the driver might be paid.
Edward stood in surprise as the kitchen door swung open, expecting Mr. Thornton, as all the staff were abed at this late hour. At the sight of Julia, he smiled. The mistress had returned! His smile disappeared, however, when, after explaining the Hackney driver's need of pay, the girl stopped him with a hesitant hand on his sleeve.
"Mr. Bates," Julia continued, "I also need to tell you that, as of this very moment, I am resigning my position." She could not meet his eyes and instead studied her folded hands.
"Why, Julia," Edward exclaimed, "I am surprised at that."
"I have received a proposal," Julia offered by way of explanation, hoping that Billy's offer still stood and that she would soon find herself far from anyone with connection to Mr. Henry Lennox.
"You will still be expected to finish out the next two weeks," Edward declared, his authority returning now that his surprise had passed.
"I cannot."
The two words sounded ragged and Edward realized with a start that tears welled in the girl's eyes. He regretted his tone. "The two weeks can be waived," he amended, "but, Julia, are you quite certain that this is what you wish? If your family or your suitor is using undue pressure – "
"Nay, Mr. Bates," Julia interrupted, "I want to go. Please, I would go now." So, he let her, but the separation would nag him off and on for the rest of his days.
Julia walked home in the moonlight, pleased to find Billy Thompson on his stoop chewing the stem of a weed. "Will you still have me?" she asked, with no introduction.
"Aye."
It was all the answer she needed. And once the bans were read and the two married and set off to their new home, she did not plan to look back.
Margaret almost ran up the burgundy carpeted stairs to the master bedroom, only to find it empty. She walked back down, understanding at once his location when she noticed the light spilling out under the closed library door, staining the floor.
When the click of the latch sounded, John called, "I am not long from bed, Edward, but I can attend myself."
"John."
He knew the voice and came at once to stand before her. "Margaret." She was real. And here. He drank in the sight of her from the carefully twisted chestnut hair to the tips of her shined black shoes. A dozen emotions passed over his face. Margaret read them all.
"I am come home," Margaret stated, simply, "for good."
One step, no great distance, and she was in his arms, pressed against his chest, encircled in his protection and love. She pulled back only enough to wrap her arms around his neck and draw his dark head down for a kiss. Her husband obliged with more than one, his lips burning as they sought to touch every bit of exposed skin. When she moaned, he lifted her in his arms with a triumphant laugh and carried her up the stairs to their bed chamber.