Disclaimer: The following was inspired by the 2007 BBC version of Cranford, which was adapted from Cranford, Mr. Harrison's Confessions, and My Lady Ludlow, all by Elizabeth Gaskell. I have no claim to or affiliation with the source material.

Author's Note: Readers of Mrs. Gaskell will recognize the liberties I have taken with the characters from My Lady Ludlow. In fact I have chosen to base my depiction of Miss Galindo in particular on Heidi Thomas's script and Emma Fielding's portrayal, and on my own imagination.

Wherein the proper order of the world is undone.

Chapter 12: Lady Ludlow's Penance:

"Have you heard what they are saying about the milliner?" Mrs. Johnson asked of Miss Pole one afternoon at Johnson's Universal Stores.

"One never hears anything in particular said at all about Miss Galindo, Mrs. Johnson. She is a quiet sort of lady, and excites no comment," replied Miss Pole, rummaging through a selection of new gloves.

"Except for on the day the railway accident occurred, Miss Pole," observed Mrs. Forrester. "Everyone said Miss Galindo actually ran after the cart when they brought in poor Mr. Carter and Captain Brown, and that she was close to fainting when she saw what had become of those two brave gentlemen."

"I had quite forgotten that, Mrs. Forrester." Miss Pole dropped her voice. "Indeed, I heard she rallied and then assisted Dr. Harrison herself –"

"Oh, Miss Pole, that's an exaggeration," said Mrs. Morgan, who had recently wed Dr. Harrison's cousin. "She and Miss Smith looked after Mr. Carter following the operation; that is all."

"Yes. Well, even that prospect alone makes one feel quite faint," said Miss Pole, fanning herself. "Miss Galindo must have had uncommon courage to have endured it."

"I do not know that she has courage, Miss Pole," sniffed Mrs. Johnson, "but I do know that she has not done with seeking the company of men. That Beckett fellow, the one who assists Mr. Carter, has been seen coming and going from Miss Galindo's shop, and at unusual times, too."

"'Unusual times,' you say? Well, Miss Galindo is in Lady Ludlow's employ, and Mr. Beckett too. Surely he is merely there in his capacity as a servant -- on a commission from her ladyship, perhaps, or performing errands on behalf of Hanbury Court," said Miss Pole.

"Humph. I do not know about that. But I do know she's a decade his senior, if she's a day. What can she be thinking of?"

At this Mrs. Morgan flushed a deep red, remembering her own misreading of Dr. Harrison's behavior. "Well, Mrs. Johnson, there are times when a young man does indeed choose to pay his attentions to a lady of mature years --"

"Yes, indeed, such things have been known to happen," put in Mrs. Forrester, with a knowing smile. "Did you never hear the story of Eleanor of Aquitaine and King Henry, Mrs. Johnson?"

At that the Honorable Mrs. Jamieson could not keep silent. "Do not draw absurd comparisons, Mrs. Forrester. Laurentia Galindo may be a baronet's daughter, but she is most certainly not a queen, nor is she likely to have men composing poems and songs in her honor." Or doing anything worse, Mrs. Jamieson thought to herself, remembering a few of the more provocative details of Eleanor's biography.

"Really, Mrs. Jamieson, that is too unkind. I have observed firsthand how various men of the village hold Miss Galindo in high regard, though whether they are praising her in verse, I cannot say." Miss Pole mentally tallied a list. "There's Sir Charles Maulver, of course. And I know for a fact that Captain Brown has the greatest respect for her, and so does Mr. Jenkyns, and I dare say Major Gordon as well, and Mr. Carter too."

"Mr. Carter! Well, Miss Galindo certainly has made some impressive conquests, Miss Pole, though I haven't heard that anyone has made a declaration," said Mrs. Johnson sourly.

"To be fair, Major Gordon is married," began Mrs. Morgan.

"I said nothing about 'conquests,' Mrs. Johnson," said Miss Pole, wearily. "Nor did I mean to imply any attachments. But I have observed Miss Galindo for a long time, and can report that the men have never treated her with anything but the greatest delicacy and kindness, which is precisely what she returns to them."

"Oh, indeed, Mrs. Johnson, I think we need not fear that Miss Galindo would ever do anything immoral or immodest," said Mrs. Forrester warmly. "Surely there is an entirely innocent explanation for Mr. Beckett's visits to her shop."

Mrs. Johnson snorted. "I see nothing innocent in any of this, Mrs. Forrester. Miss Galindo and that Irishman. Fancy that!"

"Irishman! Why, Mr. Beckett is from –"

"But then, what does it matter where he's from?" said Mrs. Johnson, interrupting an indignant Mrs. Forrester. "An unmarried lady ought not to be receiving visits from a young man of that class, and in her rooms, and on the Sabbath day, and there's an end of it."

"Come in, my dear."

Lady Ludlow thought she detected a slightly guilty look in Laurentia Galindo's eyes as the younger woman entered the room, though she was smiling softly.

"Please sit down, Laurentia." Miss Galindo felt an uncomfortable frisson of fear pass through her body. Her ladyship's words were gentle, and yet there was something disconcerting in her gaze.

"You can surely imagine why I have sent for you, Laurentia," she said after a little pause. "Stories have a way of circulating through this community so that even I cannot escape them."

So she knows, thought Miss Galindo. She clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling.

"Today Anthony Beckett gave his notice and informed me that he has taken a position with Mr. Goddard in town. On my questioning, he refused to discuss what had transpired between the two of you, or to even acknowledge any particular contacts, but you can guess what I have been hearing. You have been instructing him, in private and in secret."

"Yes, my lady," said Miss Galindo softly.

"Laurentia," said Lady Ludlow, pausing, as though struggling for words, "Laurentia, I understand that your father brought you up with a certain philosophy, but I never thought you'd put it into practice in such a fashion. Or perhaps the influence of Mr. Carter, and of his more radical notions, is stronger than I had imagined, and your head has been turned."

Miss Galindo clasped her hands together ever more tightly. "No, my lady. I took the decision entirely on my own, and without Mr. Carter's knowledge. Indeed, he probably would have counseled against it, had I revealed the plan to him."

"Possibly. Possibly not, for I know Mr. Carter's sentiments concerning education. And you know mine. I make it a rule to employ only those who are suitably trained for their positions, but not beyond their station in life. Such is the proper order of the world."

"Oh, Lady Ludlow, let us not speak of the proper order of the world," replied Miss Galindo quietly. She looked down at her hands. "Indeed, I think both of us know that what we call the proper order of the world is but a fragile thing."

"Only if we make it so, Laurentia. If we honorably fulfill our duties, things will unfold as they ought."

Miss Galindo looked up. "And did my parents fulfill their duties, and act honorably?"

"Oh, Laurentia," murmured Lady Ludlow. "I did not mean you to understand that --"

"What became of my parents' dearest plans, given the proper order of the world? Think of what they sought to make possible, what they did for my brothers and sister, and indeed for myself. Tell me what fates were determined for us, given the proper order of the world.

"My parents, Lady Ludlow, saw to it that I was taught French, Italian, and German, and drawing and dancing, and all that a young lady ought to know, and much more. My father took such pride in what he fancied was my cleverness, and my mother merely believed she would secure me a good marriage, or at least what she regarded as such, that I might spend the years afterwards bringing up my own daughters and of course sons, teaching them all I'd learned.

"There were to be no children, Lady Ludlow. There was to be no marriage. And the family in which I had happily lived was to be no more as well. It was as though that world had never existed.

"And what of all I was taught? What use is any of it? You know the manner in which I make my living. I am, as you might say, fit only for trade."

Lady Ludlow sat frozen, unable to make reply.

Miss Galindo smiled sadly. "And if anyone wishes to seek my counsel, to ask for instruction in how to keep accounts and run a shop, it is not for Mr. Carter or even you to deny such a request. Should I not do even that which remains within my power?"

"Laurentia." Lady Ludlow laid her hand on Miss Galindo's. "You speak of ideals, and yet the world may judge you harshly should you attempt to put them into practice. What then, my dear?"

"This was a business matter, nothing more, and surely that is understood."

"You are too generous, my dear. There are many who will not see it in those terms."

"I fear you are right in that, my lady," she said quietly. They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. "I understand that this must put an end to my association with Hanbury Court."

"No, Laurentia. That is not what I meant. Wherever I make my home, I will always receive you."

Miss Galindo was unable to speak but raised a hand to her eyes, as though shielding them against the light. Lady Ludlow reached for her other hand and for a long moment clasped it tightly.

She had done nothing wrong, she said. Lady Ludlow, for all her feelings about what had transpired, did not have the heart to attempt to convince her otherwise, or to offer words of reproach. Perhaps Miss Galindo would find defiance a worthy weapon when all the gossip of Cranford was arrayed against her, though her ladyship very much doubted that.

She doubted it all the more when the conversation took a most unexpected turn.

"I did not think, Laurentia," she said when Miss Galindo's tears had subsided, "to discover that you and Mr. Carter are cut from the same cloth. It is curious, but perhaps I ought not to be astonished."

Miss Galindo had colored, and said quietly, "I am not persuaded that that is the case, Lady Ludlow."

"Are you not? I think I see a similarity in your endeavors."

"Indeed not. Mr. Carter would likely have objected to what I did, much as he has ever objected to my presence in the office. I dare say I have never been able to convince him of my worth."

"Surely you do not believe that, Laurentia."

"Indeed I do." She continued, in a low voice, as if to herself, "And now -- and now perhaps it is best to let Mr. Carter have his way. He shall have a clerk of his own choosing, and I shall return to Cranford, and face my accusers, if that is indeed what they are. That amounts to work enough for me, and a burden removed from Mr. Carter."

It was turning into a rather wet day, and yet Miss Galindo declined when Lady Ludlow offered to have her conveyed back to Cranford. She would outwalk the rain, she assured her ladyship, and besides the exercise would be of benefit. Lady Ludlow watched her leave and thought of pilgrims subjecting themselves to unimaginable hardships. She would have to be careful not to let Laurentia carry this too far.

Miss Galindo could perhaps outwalk the rain, but not what was waiting to confront her in solitary thought -- not self-reproach, for she had done nothing wrong, but a painful, rigorous honesty that demanded that she admit it had never been mere kindness that motivated her to accept Anthony's plan. Anger, a defiant anger she had nurtured for some time, had moved her to act.

And yet now, as she left the grounds of Hanbury, possibly for the final time, she lacked the spirit to uncover the source of that anger. And her heart was heavy at the realization that her world had again wholly changed, but this time at her own instigation.

It had begun raining heavily that afternoon by the time Edward Carter returned from his travels about the Hanbury estate and presented himself at the main house for a meeting with Lady Ludlow. He was nearly drenched and shuddering from the cold, and would gladly have avoided any further interviews, even with her ladyship. But she had particularly requested that he speak to her on his return.

To his relief, she had arranged to receive him in a small parlor in which a fire was already burning brightly, the economies at Hanbury having fortunately not extended so far as to deny Lady Ludlow basic comforts.

It was dusk, and the light from the fire was all that illuminated the room as they stood opposite each other. "Let us sit down, Mr. Carter," she said, and then glanced upwards at his rugged and rain-soaked face, the damp brown hair about his brow. "And let us draw closer to the fire."

When they had settled into their chairs, she continued, "I have a most unexpected turn of events to discuss with you. Possibly you are not aware, Mr. Carter, that Laurentia Galindo has been providing instruction to Anthony Beckett in matters of business, of trade. I did not know he could even read and write; those were not my concerns when I engaged him to assist you.

"I thought I detected your influence in this scheme, Mr. Carter, but when I confronted Laurentia, she was most insistent that you knew nothing of it. Is that true?"

"My lady, I assure you I would have never permitted such a thing. And yet –"

"Continue, Mr. Carter."

"My lady, I did not know what Miss Galindo and Mr. Beckett were about, and yet I have no doubt that she acted out of the best possible intentions. I am sure there is nothing to reproach her for."

"Are you certain of that?"

"I am well acquainted with Miss Galindo's character, and to a lesser degree Beckett's as well."

"Mr. Carter, I have known Laurentia Galindo since she was an infant, and can claim better knowledge of her character than do you. While I would not have acted as she did, I have no doubt whatsoever that her motives were kind."

"I must also say that it is likely my fault that any such scheme developed at all, my lady."

"Indeed?"

"It was I who informed Beckett that Miss Galindo was a milliner, and evidently he thought she could teach him what he needed to know about the running of a shop."

He added, "There is something more, my lady." This would be difficult, and was best done quickly.

"And what is that, Mr. Carter?"

"If you disapprove of Miss Galindo's decision to assist Mr. Beckett, you would be infinitely more displeased with my own to continue teaching Harry Gregson. I know you do not approve, and I have continued in defiance of your wishes."

"I see."

He rose slowly from his chair. "I understand, madam, that with this admission you will be unable to do anything but discharge me."

The light from the fire seemed to set her eyes ablaze, and yet her voice, when it came, was soft, barely audible. "You understand no such thing, Mr. Carter. Your situation is yours to keep, for as long as you are able, for as long as you wish it."

"My lady, I do not understand."

"No. No, Mr. Carter, you do not," she said simply.

He continued, perplexed. "I have defied you, at length, over a period of months, and this after I accepted your kindness during my convalescence – indeed, caused you great expense and inconvenience. If you will not accept my resignation, at least accept payment for an honest debt –"

"An honest debt," she hissed. "Do not speak to me, Mr. Carter, of 'honest debts.'

"Did you not realize that Captain Brown would tell me why you were present at the railway site when the explosion occurred, and that I would learn you were there entirely on my behalf, for my financial benefit, though not on my orders? Do you not understand that you would be whole and well, had I not subjected you to the twin and equally impossible demands of Septimus's requests and the mortgage on Hanbury Court?"

She turned her eyes again towards the fire and continued, "I heard the flattery of Dr. Morgan, of all the others. They praised my devotion to you, told me no son could have been treated more tenderly. It pierced me to the heart to hear that, Mr. Carter. That you were in need of care at all was wholly my doing, and you might have paid an even dearer price, had not Dr. Harrison's surgery proved a success." She sat silently, her lovely face now haggard and streaked with tears.

After some time she spoke again, so softly he had to struggle to hear her words.

"No, Mr. Carter, I have daily proof of my folly, and what it cost you. There is no possible way I could discharge the obligation I owe to you, now and for the rest of my life."

"You owe me nothing, nothing, my lady," he insisted gently.

She spoke again, as if he had not uttered a word. "I was weak and foolish with Septimus, and it was you who suffered for it. I alone bear the responsibility."

"It is not yours alone, my lady." He fairly whispered the words, and feared to speak further, lest he weep. For a long moment they remained in silence together, merely watching the firelight, listening to the crackle of the flames.

It felt remarkable for her to at last acknowledge to herself that this stern, stubborn man was a good deal less of a stranger, and more of a son, than was her own child Septimus, whom she had borne and nurtured and watched depart from her, evidently never to return. But Edward Carter had remained by her side, despite all, and if she relied upon him so wholly, she would also endeavor to understand him as well.

At last she spoke. "You will dine with me this evening, of course." She added, very quietly, "That was not an order, Mr. Carter. It was merely an invitation."

In the flickering light she could just read the compassion in those pale eyes. "Of course, my lady. As you wish."

"There is much I still must say to you."

After they had concluded their meal, Lady Ludlow again led him to the parlor, where they took up their places by the fire once more. She seemed restored by the hour they had had spent at supper, but was no less reflective than before.

"Mr. Carter, for now, at least, let us speak no more of this business with Harry Gregson, and for that matter, with Anthony Beckett. I will only acknowledge that I must admit defeat, Mr. Carter. The world is changing, and I am powerless to stop it."

"We are all of us powerless to stop it."

"There are, however, some things which do remain within my ability to influence, and that is what I wish to discuss with you."

"Yes, my lady."

"The first is a most delicate matter," she said, averting her gaze.

"Mr. Carter, I am concerned that what Laurentia has done may leave her reputation tainted – unfairly, fairly, it matters not; people will talk, as you know. I feel I have failed her, for all that my intent was to offer her protection. She is very much alone, you see, and must feel the loss of her family excessively at this time. I knew her mother and father, of course, quite intimately, and feel an obligation to them as well as to her."

"What sort of man was Miss Galindo's father?"

"Sir Peter? A bit odd, but very kind. I rarely heard a cross word from him. His notions concerning education were rather daring, or used to be considered so – though perhaps you, Mr. Carter, might not find them so very strange, not in these times -- and he lavished attention on his sons and daughters equally. In fact it is not an exaggeration to say he adored his children. Laurentia alone survives, of course. Her brothers and sister predeceased even their parents."

"And what became of Sir Peter?"

"When Laurentia was perhaps 19 or 20, he fell ill, and great expense was taken to determine what was wrong and to effect a cure. Dr. Morgan believed there was a tumor, and that surgery, even if Sir Peter survived it, would not prolong his life. I sent for a physician of my acquaintance, a very learned man, and he concurred with Dr. Morgan that there was nothing to be done for Sir Peter – nothing, that is, but to assuage the pain." She closed her eyes. "In the end, even that could not be accomplished. I wish I could forget what he suffered. I know Laurentia cannot."

A shudder went through him.

After a pause, Lady Ludlow continued, softly, "The only mercy was that his suffering did not continue over many months."

"And when Sir Peter died –"

"The estate was entailed to Laurentia's cousin – a male cousin, Mr. Carter, as you of course understand. Moreover, there had been a rift within the family, and that relative, the current baronet, came to his title and lands, and had nothing further to do with Laurentia and her mother.

"Sir Peter had of course made provision for them, but what investments he'd made had not prospered, and he had as well incurred great expense during his illness. There was, as a consequence, but little money left for Lady Galindo and her daughter to live on.

"Laurentia was clever – is clever, rather – and spirited, and had been educated beyond what was usual for girls, and that may have been her ruin. Wit and talent often serve a woman ill when it comes time to marry, especially when little money has been settled upon her."

Mr. Carter could make no reply to that.

"She was therefore insistent on making her own way, but wholly unprepared for what confronted her. She might have been a governess, but that would have meant parting company with her mother. So she chose to remain instead here in Cranford, looking after Lady Galindo and making what living she could."

"So Miss Galindo took up millinery, and remained by her mother's side."

Lady Ludlow met his gaze. "And what other course would you have had her pursue, Mr. Carter? A study of the law, or perhaps of medicine?"

"No, my lady. I understand she had obligations, as well as constraints."

"Indeed." She smiled sadly. "I do not wish to be indelicate, but there was a time when I thought to persuade her to marry. I shall not speak of the circumstances but only say that Laurentia was never particularly docile, and would not have agreed to a union merely to please her mother or myself, let alone to secure wealth and rank.

"It is not, of course, that Lady Galindo was consumed with such thoughts. Maria was broken following Peter's illness. She was never the same, though she lived another decade.

"I have, perhaps, told you more than I ought, Mr. Carter. But you will better understand her nature, and how best to entreat her to return – that is, if you wish her to return."

"My lady?" His eyes were wide with astonishment.

"Before she left, Laurentia said an odd thing to me. 'Perhaps it is best to let Mr. Carter have his way.' I believe those were her words. She said that now you might have a clerk of your own choosing." He thought he detected a smile, albeit a sad one, on Lady Ludlow's lips as she added, "I had not thought it in her nature to surrender so easily."

She continued, "You do, of course, have my leave to make decisions concerning your staff. As much as I desire to help Laurentia, I will not insist that you take her back into the office. I know you were displeased when I installed her there in the first place, and so I leave it up to you to determine whether she shall return or someone else shall succeed her. Rest assured that I will always welcome her back to Hanbury, whether in my employ or no, but I will not force your hand concerning any decisions you take regarding Laurentia."

He sat there in shock. "My lady, it was never my intention to –"

He could not finish the sentence.

"I only ask, Mr. Carter," she continued, as though he had said nothing, "that regardless of what you decide, you speak gently to her. Be kind. She has been faithfulness itself these past months."

"My lady, you have my promise that I will forget neither what you have related nor your charge to me, and I will give both proper consideration."

"Thank you, Mr. Carter. I am most grateful for that."

After he returned home that night, he thought much about the past, reviewing the events of his life like chapters in a book. He had long held the belief that all he had achieved had come through ambition and hard work, perhaps prudence, and yet as he examined each action, each decision he had taken, he found that assistance had always come to him, that he had never once been wholly alone in anything he'd undertaken. He'd been educated as a clerk in Birmingham, and then as a manager at Hanbury, through the assistance of good men, kind men.

And Katherine brought with her a dowry when they had married. He'd have sought her hand even if she had not a penny, of course, but there it was. Indeed, between the two of them, she and her father had secured his future. After Katherine's death he had taken the money she'd left and invested it in the mill, and had become wealthy not through his own labor or even particular shrewdness, but again through the efforts of others.

He'd believed fate or ambition – perhaps both – had brought him to where he was, and yet he had never been completely alone through any of it, not even in these past months, perhaps especially not in these past months. There had always been someone at his side. It was strange that he had never fully understood that before.

Still, he had keenly felt the injustices of the world and saw what consequences they had for people like Harry Gregson. Yet it had been Miss Galindo who had reminded him that even Lady Ludlow, for all her privilege, was as much a prisoner of those injustices as any of them.

As for Miss Galindo herself –

Dear God, what had he said to her?

To be continued...