Arm in arm, Margaret and her father huddled together as they hurried through the light rain. It was cold today, the clouds and strong wind only serving to intensify the chill in the air. On a day like today even the old stone church would be warmer than the Milton streets.

Mr Hale removed his hat as they entered. As usual they would take their seat towards the back of the church. Margaret smiled wryly to herself. Only the wealthy families in Milton sat at the front on Sundays. Substantial contributions to the Church purse secured them the forward pews. Like a summerhouse, the pews even sat empty when the occupants were absent.

Margaret thought that a church where class and respectability determined where you sat could hardly be conducive to spiritual enlightenment. In contrast in Helston, in her father's parish, all people were equal in the eyes of God. And where you sat was only decided by your tardiness to God's house.

Sitting at the back of the church was a reminder of the Hales' position in Milton society. It was the price they all had to pay for her father's dissension. The Reverend Hughes rarely spoke to them – despite Margaret's blossoming friendship with the ladies committee. She knew her father felt this slight keenly but he remained stoic as they attended church every Sunday and listened respectfully to the Reverend's somewhat banal sermons.

Out of the corner of her eye Margaret noticed the golden ringlets of Fanny Thornton. She strained to see around other parishioners in order to have a better view of who was sitting with Fanny. Mrs Thornton was in her usual place looking severe as ever. And on the other side there appeared to be another young woman of small frame and silver blonde hair. Margaret recognised her almost immediately. Her beauty was unmistakable. It was Anne Latimer.

Margaret felt her anger rise that such an unchristian girl should attend church. And she was sitting with his family. Margaret felt pain in her chest again. She quickly hid her face lest she be seen. If she saw Margaret sitting here in the back, it would only stoke Miss Latimer's conceited arrogance.

Margaret's eyes discreetly scanned back to the other side of Mrs Thornton. The seat, usually occupied by the tall handsome Master of Marlborough Mill, was vacant. "He must be still in London.' The words were out of Margaret's mouth before she could think better of it.

'I'm sorry my dear? Did you say something?'

Margaret forced a smile. 'I was speaking to myself father. I just noticed that Mr Thornton is not in church today. I imagine he must still be in London.'

Mr Hale nodded. 'It must be something very important indeed to have kept him away so long. It must be at least a fortnight since he left.'

It had been almost twice as long as that, Margaret thought longingly. Silently she chastised herself. Pining for a man who had promised himself to another would do her no good.

Ever since her exchange with Miss Latimer in the school store, Margaret had wondered at John's judgment. Could he not see for himself the true nature of his betrothed? Margaret had always imagined John to be very perceptive. But his poor choice of future wife distressed her. If Margaret could not marry him, she wished him a more worthy woman than Anne Latimer.

Margaret sat in troubled thought for most of the sermon, not really hearing the monotone voice in the pulpit. After the closing hymn Margaret remained seated -well concealed beside her father - until the families at the front had left. She looked down, feigning interest in an old prayer book as they walked past, so as not to catch anyone's eye.

It was unlike Margaret to resort to such devices. But today, under the circumstances, she feared that another disagreeable conversation with Miss Latimer would be more than her own forbearing character could withstand.

'Are you ready to go my dear?' Mr Hale extended his arm for Margaret to take.

Margaret submitted. 'Papa, do you mind if I do not stay after church? I should like to visit with the Higgenses today.'

'Of course not Margaret. You run along. I shall just speak with the Hampshires regarding their son and then I will go home myself. The weather is not favorable for lingering.'

Margaret kissed her father on the cheek before heading off in the direction of the poorer district of town.

As she approached Francis Street, Margaret was greeted by a small crowd of smudged, smiling faces. 'Miss Peggy, you have come to see us!' A small girl threw her arms around Margaret's legs, burying her head in her skirts. Eventually, after prying her away, Margaret took her small friend by the hand and led her to the door where Mary was now standing, an infant on hip. She had been alerted to Magaret's presence by the joyful fracas of the children.

'Well you are a welcome sight Miss.' The male voice spoke from behind Mary. As she came closer, Margaret could just make out Nicholas's broad smile inside the dark house.

'Nicholas. It feels an age since I have seen you.'

'Aye true Miss. Come in, come in. Mary has the kettle on.'

Margaret made her way into the little house. Although Margaret knew Mary did her best to keep it clean and tidy, there was a distinctive damp smell mixed with the odor of little feet permeating the air in the cramped room.

'Let me take him Mary.' Margaret relieved Mary of the baby so that she could finish the tea.

'How have you been Miss Margaret? Very busy from what Mary tells me.'

Margaret sat down at the kitchen table and bounced the Boucher boy on her knee. 'I am well thank you Nicholas. The school is almost running itself thanks to Mary's hard work. And if the store is a success, it should be well funded with money for some new books and furniture.'

'That is good news. I can't tell you how grateful the workers are to you Miss. Knowing their little ones are safe and being taught how to read and write.' Nicholas shook his head. 'You cannot know what that means to some.'

Margaret nodded modestly. 'How is your work at the mill Nicholas?'

Nicholas got a mischievous look in his eye. 'As you know, Thornton went to London. While he was away one of the foremen got a little power hungry and was acting careless. But I stood up to him.'

'What happened?'

'He tried to take some shortcuts in the drying process to get things done quicker. So I set him straight. He didn't like that I talked back to him. But I understand the work better than him, and he knows it. '

'You are behaving yourself aren't you Nicholas?' Margaret smiled widely to ensure he knew that she was joking.

Nicholas put his hand over his heart. 'I swear Miss. I am the hardest worker that Thornton has and I intend to stay that way. But I also like things done right. I'm just glad Thornton's back.'

Margaret gasped. 'He's back? But I did not see him in church this morning?' Margaret felt her face blush.

Nicholas looked knowingly at Mary and stifled a chuckle. 'He has been back for three or four days now. He came straight back to the mill but he took ill on the second day. Just a cold I think, but it put him in his sickbed. Anyway, we haven't seen him since. So I doubt he has called on any of his friends since his return.'

Margaret's face turned from disappointment to concern. Nicholas could not help his laughter this time. 'Come now Miss. He will recover. Do not worry yourself. I am sure he will be at your door soon enough.'

Margaret tried to pretend she did not know his meaning.

'Papa. I am home.' Margaret closed the front door before taking off her coat and gloves. "Papa, Nicholas told me that Mr Thornton has returned. But he is not well…'

Margaret's words were cut short as she entered the sitting room. Her heart flipped and her legs nearly gave way as she saw him. Seeming at ease with his long legs folded in front of him and a cup of tea in hand was the very man she spoke of. Margaret noted that his face was pale and he had grey stains under his eyes. He seemed thinner in his person and his usually vibrant blue eyes were glassy. But there was hint of a smile on his lips and merriment in the crinkled lines beside his tired eyes that told Margaret he was enjoying her current state of surprise.

'Margaret, my dear. As you can see Mr Thornton has come to call on us.'

Margaret placed her hand affectionately on her father's shoulder in greeting. Margaret thought about pouring herself a tea but decided her fingers were nowhere near steady enough for the task. She sat down, feeling more awkward than at any other moment in her life.

'How are you Miss Hale?' John's usually velvety voice was a little hoarse and croaky.

Bashfully Margaret met his eyes again. She could not help but be affected by his handsome features – even though he looked poorly. 'I am well thank you Mr Thornton,' she said softly. 'But I hear that the same cannot be said for you.'

John laughed before breaking into a cough. 'Yes, your sources are correct. I must have caught a cold while on the train. My companion in the car was sniffing and sneezing a good deal. But I promise you I am much better than I was two days ago.' John gazed at Margaret before turning back to her father. 'I hope you don't mind sir that I came in my current state. I felt the need to venture out and test out my legs after too many hours lying about.'

'Not at all, John. We are glad to see you. But after so long away in London? You must have a lot of work waiting for you at the Mill?'

John nodded. 'Yes, I imagine I do. Although I left the Mill in good hands while I was away, I will inevitably pay the price for my absence. It is most inconvenient to have fallen ill at such a time.'

'Well I am glad that you were able to make time to come and see us John, don't you agree Margaret?'

Margaret nodded. She did not need to look at Mr Thornton to know that he was watching her again.

Finding her courage she looked up. 'How was your visit to London sir?'

'I suppose you could call it successful. I met with some potential investors and ordered more machines for the Mill. Hopefully we will be able to expand our production to meet orders before the winter is over.'

Mr Hale looked at John with admiration. 'That is very good news John. It is wonderful to hear that the Mill seems to have recovered from the strife. '

'In some unexpected ways I think I benefited from it all. Your daughter's friend Higgins bought many skilled men with him to Marlborough Mill. It has quite altered the place. And as you know I owe it all to Miss Hale.' John's voice softened as he once again gazed at her.

Mr Hale reached over to squeeze Margaret's hand.

'You know I walked down Harley Street while I was in London. Several times in fact.'

Margaret had not expected John to remember where she had lived in London. 'The houses are very elegant are they not?'

John nodded. 'I could imagine that you fitted in well there, Miss Hale.'

'Perhaps. But I hope I fit in just as well here.'

John smiled, clearly approving of her response.

Margaret reveled in his company but felt unsettled by it at the same time. If it were true that he was to be engaged to Miss Latimer, was it not wrong of him to be here now? Should he really be spending time with a woman he had once professed his love for when he was to marry another?

As they finished their tea Mr Hale issued an invitation. 'Will you stay for luncheon John?'

John looked at Margaret before answering. 'No, thank you just the same sir. I must be getting back before my mother sends out a search party for me. I think she forgets at times that I am a grown man of one and thirty.' He laughed as he stood. 'Don't get up Mr Hale. I am sure your daughter will see me to the door.'

Margaret, taken aback by his bold request, stood dumbly and followed him out of the room. As they reached the entry John gestured for Margaret to join him on the front step. Margaret checked behind her before stepping out.

'I am sorry if I made you uneasy just then Margaret, but I wanted to speak with you alone for a moment. '

Margaret reached out behind her to grasp the balustrade.

'I wonder if I might ask for an audience with you some time this week. There are matters that I need to discuss with you.' John pondered a moment before continuing. 'I do not wish to speak of it further right here and now. But the reason for the audience is..well..I wish to tell you about someone I met whilst I was in London.'

Margaret felt a sense of dread. There was only one person who he could be referring to. He wanted to tell her about Anne Latimer. He wanted her to hear from him that he was to marry. How was she to bear such news without revealing the extent of her pain. Her voice broke a little when she spoke. 'I am volunteering at George Street most of this week – we open the school shop tomorrow.'

'So my mother told me. That is quite an achievement Margaret. You must be proud.' John was standing so close to her now that she began to feel dizzy. She leaned back onto the cast iron.

'Thank…thank you.' Margaret stammered and looked down, her thoughts unruly. 'I shall be finished by 1 o'clock each day. '

'Excellent. Perhaps I can walk you home on Tuesday?'

'Really, Mr Thornton, I know how busy you will be. Should we not delay until..'

'Margaret!' John's tone was stern. 'Do you ever think you will be able to call me John?' She was not sure whether he was serious or mocking her. 'This is important and cannot be delayed. I will make the time. I will be at George Street on Tuesday at 1 o'clock sharp.'

Margaret could only nod as he turned and walked down the steps to the street.