Margaret tip-toed around the sleeping children, desperate not to wake any of them lest they all be disturbed. She noticed little Violet Baker open one eye, so knelt to stroke her hair until she too was slumbering.

They all looked like angels – a contrast to the noisy chaos that usually characterised the baby group. She smiled at Mary who had one child sprawled asleep across her lap.

This was Margaret's morning to volunteer at the infant school. With Mary occupied, Margaret was assisting Martha – the other teacher – tidy up from the morning's activities. Martha had been referred to Margaret from Mrs Phillips. She was also the daughter of Mrs Phillip's housekeeper. She was young – only seventeen - and unfortunately by fashionable standards lacking in physical beauty or proportion. But she worked hard and had a sweet temper. Most importantly Martha had a natural instinct with children and never seemed to get flustered.

As Margaret began to fold some linen, Martha tapped her on the shoulder and pointed at the doorway. Turning towards it Margaret broke into a smile. Undoing the apron she had donned earlier to protect her clothes from the stickiness of little hands, she made her way silently to greet her visitor. Once outside she showed her enthusiasm. 'What a pleasant surprise! I am so glad you have come to see our little school at last.'

'So what do you think – isn't it marvelous?'

Mr Bell nodded. 'I meant what I said last night Margaret. Few could have accomplished this. To pull together Milton society in support - particularly as an outsider - is remarkable. Yet not surprising really, for you are a truly remarkable girl.'

Margaret felt a rush of pride. His good opinion meant a lot to her.

Seated side by side on a bench in the church gardens, Mr Bell now shifted slightly towards Margaret and leaned forward with his hands on his walking stick. 'Margaret, I hope you will forgive your Godfather's impertinence. I pride myself on my candidness and I am not a man to beat around the bush, particularly with those I love as dearly as you my dear.' He paused. 'What was going on at dinner last night at the Thorntons?'

Margaret took a deep breath. Whilst her own father, in his present state of grief seemed insensible to other's feelings, Mr Bell would not be so easily deceived. It would seem her godfather had an unnerving ability to deduce what had never been explicitly declared.

Margaret looked over at the church building, opting to stay silent for the moment.

'What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Mr Thornton, Margaret? He was so appallingly rude to you last night. I confess I was ready to defend your honor,' Mr Bell flourished his walking stick mimicking a sword fight. 'Except I fear I would be no match. And what good would I be to you then…'

Margaret couldn't help but smile at the mental image of the elegant but small statured older gentleman challenging the powerful figure and might of the Master of Marlborough Mill.

Still not looking at Mr Bell she sighed. 'Let's just say that Mr Thornton and I rarely see eye-to-eye on material matters. '

'Yes, but the man questioned your honesty in front of his family and yours no less?'

Margaret chewed on her lip while she decided what to say next. Mr Bell had been a faithful friend. He knew about Frederick, and Frederick was back in Spain now anyway. 'I lied to Mr Thornton and he knows it.' Margaret then relayed the events following Frederick's visit and how she had been compelled to withhold the truth from her father's friend.

'Oh I see. That is messy.' Mr Bell was thoughtful. 'But surely under the circumstances he must understand your reluctance to reveal the truth to him. Especially seeing as he is a magistrate. If you had told him about Frederick you would have placed him in a very precarious position. Faced with a dilemma as to whether to report your brother to the Navy. I daresay you did him a favour.'

'I don't think he sees it that way. He has lost patience with me.' Margaret looked despondently at her godfather. 'Sadly it is not the worst I have done to him…but it was the last he was willing to endure.'

Mr Bell took Margaret's hand. 'You love him, don't you my dear?'

Tears pricked her eyes. She had worked very hard to keep her thoughts focused away from Mr Thornton. She had thrown herself into starting up the school; and the occupation had been a welcome balm to her injured heart. But the dinner last night, and Mr Bell's probing were reigniting the pain that first began when she read Mr Thornton's letter.

'It doesn't matter now, Mr Bell. Mr Thornton will not be giving me his attentions. He has made that quite plain.' Margaret wiped her cheek.'

'Oh my dear. I'm not so sure that all is resolved as you think. If he had seemed indifferent or uninterested, then perhaps I could believe he is not in love with you. But the man at dinner last night was broody, ill mannered and ill tempered.' Mr Bell smirked. 'And he couldn't keep his eyes off you. No my dear, these are the symptoms of a man made completely miserable by love. He is entirely under your spell.'

'Even if what you say is true…. we just seem to hurt each other. I'm not sure that we were ever meant to be together.'

'Ah the course of true love never did run smooth. Margaret my dear, you only have the power to hurt where there is true feeling to start with.'

Margaret looked down. Part of her was hoping what he said was true. The other part of her was wishing they had never had this conversation.

Mr Bell tapped the ground with his walking stick to signal the end of that particular conversation. 'Enough talk of Mr Thornton. Are you quite done at the school for today?'

Margaret nodded.

'Good. I want you to come for a walk with me so I can show you your gift.'

John was sitting at his desk pouring over his accounts. There was cause for optimism. The orders were almost under control and wastage had been reduced thanks to the workers handpicked by Higgins. So long as the supply of cotton remained steady...

John heard a knock but did not look up. Slightly irritated by the interruption he called out 'Come in.'

Mr Bell, holding a wad of official looking documents, was visibly amused by the unrelenting focus of the man behind the modest desk. 'Considering the insanely generous lease terms I hold in my hand, I would hope for a more agreeable welcome.'

John looked up, taken aback. 'Mr Bell. Forgive me, I thought it was my Foreman. Come in.'

Mr Bell took a seat on the other side of the desk. He placed some papers in front of John before sitting back and crossing his legs nonchalantly. 'I have just been to my Milton lawyer, so I thought I would drop your new lease in personally.'

John took a cursory glance at the documents and then penned his signature. Keeping his copy he handed back the original to Mr Bell. 'Thank you – although you needn't have troubled yourself. I'm sure their office boy could have run them over.' John stood up as if to shake hands with the older man. But Mr Bell remained seated. John self-consciously sat back down

'Actually, the lease was just an excuse. Let me get to the real reason behind my visit. ' Mr Bell's tone had changed from his usual casual repartee to a more serious tenor.

John looked quizzically at his landlord.

'Come now Thornton you can't think you could behave the way you did last night and not get a reaction. '

John remained silent and rigid.

'Your behaviour towards my goddaughter was inexcusable.'

John shook his head. 'Mr Bell, I agree that my words were ill advised. But you cannot know all the circumstances that have affected my association with Miss Hale.'

'On the contrary, I understand the circumstances perfectly. And I still find your behaviour abhorrent. '

John felt ill equipped for this conversation. He knew he had been excessive in his abuse of Miss Hale. But no matter how he tried to reason with himself, he could not help feeling wronged by Margaret.

Mr Bell's tone softened. 'I can see that you care for my goddaughter.'

John still did not speak.

'She is a rare jewel and you would be a fool to let her slip though your fingers. Whatever your differences – work them out. You, neither of you, will be happy until you do.'

John wondered at those words but suppressed his desire to read more than he should into them. 'I'm sorry Mr Bell. I mean no disrespect, but I really don't see what this has to do with you?'

'It is entirely my business.' Mr Bell sounded indignant. 'Margaret is like my own daughter and her happiness is my primary concern. I would like to see her settled with a man who loves and values her for who she is.'

'Your loyalty to Miss Hale does you credit sir, but I will not be told how I should or shouldn't feel or how I should of shouldn't behave in my own house.'

Mr Bell snorted derisively, uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. Tapping his walking stick on the floor in barely veiled frustration he responded, 'Perhaps if you stopped indulging your vanity long enough, you may begin to see other possibilities in your situation with Margaret.'

John looked away trying to contain his temper.

'Think about what you know of Margaret. Surely it would take some grave circumstances for a girl as upright as Margaret to lie to a man she trusts and respects as much as you.'

'I wish I could believe you sir. ' Then regaining his bravado John said. 'But perhaps you and I see Miss Hale differently.'

'Good God man, you are infuriating. Must I lay it out for you?' Mr Bell eyed John for signs he understood. There were none. 'Well I see that I must. I only hope Margaret will forgive me my interference.'

'Please Mr Bell, I think I have heard enough.'

'No Thornton. You will listen to me. For your own good you will hear what I have to say! All along you have condemned Margaret for not telling you the truth about Lieutenant Hale. Margaret chose not to let you in on a secret that she has held close to her heart for years. Unable to tell a soul. You believe it was because she did not care enough about you to share her story.' John winced at Mr Bell's accurate conclusion. 'Lieutenant Hale is her brother John. Yes, that is right – her brother and Mr Hale's son.'

John sat back in his chair at this revelation. He had thought the man perhaps a cousin, but it had never occurred to him that he would he so closely connected.

'Frederick, had to flee to Spain to avoid the hangman's noose for saving his crew from the tyranny of a brutal ship captain. They labeled it mutiny. He risked his life to come to Milton to fulfill his mother's dying wish to see him once more.'

John hardly knew what to think. Poor Margaret. To have carried this burden all this time. How ghastly to have lost a brother in such circumstances.

'Margaret did not tell you John because she did not want to involve you. You are a magistrate bound by the laws of the land and your duty to the crown. You would have been forced to make a choice between your loyalties.'

'But if she had confided in me... '

'John, you silly, proud man. It is so perfectly clear, but you cannot see it because you fear the truth.' Mr Bell look sympathetically at his tenant. 'Did it never occur to you that by lying to you, Margaret was trying to protect more than one man she loves?'