The next morning Frederick was up early. As soon as his mother was awake he went to her. She was in better health than she had been in a while and she was overjoyed to see her son. Margaret joined them as well and her bliss was complete.
"Oh, Margaret," said she, "won't it be wonderful to have Frederick here for your wedding?"
"Yes, Mama," replied Margaret with a broad smile. "I recommend you stay in your room today, Mama. You don't want to overexert yourself with all of this excitement. Mrs. Thornton will not mind visiting you in here when she comes later."
Mrs. Hale agreed. Margaret then left her mother and brother to visit alone while she saw to the preparations for the day.
….oOo….
The Thornton carriage pulled up in front of the Hale's Crampton home at precisely 11 o'clock. Mr. Thornton helped his mother out and escorted her to the door. He was hoping for a chance to see Margaret for a few minutes and he was not disappointed. As Dixon showed Mrs. Thornton up to her mistress' room, Margaret and John were left alone in the entryway.
"Did your brother leave in time?" John asked.
"Yes," answered Margaret, "he left about a quarter of an hour ago."
"Good," he replied and, pulling her to him, he added, "I forgot to tell you last night that Nicholas Higgins came to see me yesterday."
"Oh!" Margaret's eyes lit up and she jumped in giddy anticipation, "Did you take him on?"
"Yes," he replied, "He started this morning."
"Thank you, John!" she exclaimed and threw her arms around him in a hug.
"How are you this morning?" he ventured to ask when she peeled herself away.
"Anxious but happy," she tentatively replied, "Anxious about Fred's visit but happy he is here. Anxious about my mother's health but happy that she is currently doing well. Anxious about the wedding but so happy to be marrying you."
John leaned down and kissed her soundly.
"I hope that calms your nerves a bit," he said.
"No, it doesn't, actually," she said attempting to catch her breath while straightening his cravat and playing with his lapels, "Having you so near tends to increase the flutterings in my belly." Then looking into his eyes, she added, "But in a good way."
He kissed her again. They had to break it off however, when they heard Dixon coming down the stairs. "Miss Margaret, they need you upstairs," the maid said.
As Dixon moved off toward the kitchen, John took Margaret's hand. He said, "I must be going," and he kissed her hand. "I will return with Frederick in two hours and retrieve my mother." Donning his hat, he left.
….oOo….
Frederick tried to walk casually, though briskly, through the unfamiliar streets of Milton. He felt exposed walking about in broad daylight. He practiced his alias by offering a "Buenos dias!" and a tip of his hat to any passersby that greeted him first.
He had brought with him the latest edition of 'Diario de Cádiz,' the daily newspaper from his hometown. It kept him occupied for a day or so on board the ship. Currently tucked under his arm, it might come in handy if he arrived at the station early.
As he approached the station he noted the flurry of activity as the night shift was getting off and the day shift was arriving. He took a seat on a bench near the road where he would be picked up by Mr. Thornton's carriage. He had just buried his head in the newspaper when a gaggle of porters passed by on their way home. They were talking about their plans for the rest of the day. Fred paid them no heed until one of them mentioned Marlborough Mills as the place where his fiancé worked, that he would be visiting on his way home. Fred noticed that this man spoke in a Southern accent as opposed to the Northern burr which he had heard all around him in Milton. Fred dropped his paper only to see the back of the man as he walked away from the station. Fred let out a 'humpf' and went back to the news.
A few minutes later, while there were but a few people milling about the station, the Thornton carriage pulled up. Mr. Thornton stepped out and approached Fred with a smile, "Buenos dias, Senior Barbour! Welcome to Milton."
John held out his hand. Folding his paper, Fred stood to greet the Milton manufacturer. "Ah! Senior Thornton, buenos dias!" he replied in a near flawless Spanish accent, "Thank you for inviting me to your lovely city of Milton!"
A few heads turned their way at the sound of the strange accent but no one seemed all that interested.
"Come, Senior, let me escort you to the mill," John said as he ushered Fred into the awaiting carriage.
….oOo….
The ladies spent the rest of the morning and into the afternoon discussing wedding plans. They settled on Thursday of the following week for the wedding. Mrs. Thornton was not happy about the short notice but understood the need for it. She hoped the gossip mongers of Milton would latch on to the real instigation, Mrs. Hale's failing health, and not the usual, more scandalous, reason for a hasty wedding. She might use her daughter's penchant for tittle-tattle to help spread the appropriate news. She was also upset that she would not have the time to plan the grand event that her son deserved. However, she would do the best with what she had, a circumstance to which she had been used for many years.
The location for the wedding was chosen to be St. Ann's Church as it was the Hale's home parish. Mrs. Hale felt certain that she would be up to traveling the distance by carriage even though she might need to be carried from it into the church. Margaret was hesitant to agree to this and pushed to be married in their Crampton home. However, her mother insisted on it, declaring that all would be well. Mrs. Thornton's only point of opposition to Margaret was that the Crampton home would hardly fit even the closest of family members. Reluctantly, Margaret agreed, so St. Ann's it would be.
Margaret wished to keep things simple and was successful in insisting that there only be the Matron of Honor, her cousin Edith, and the Best Man of John's choosing. She also got her way with her desire to wear her mother's wedding dress, with some alterations to accommodate her more ample figure. When Mrs. Hale lamented that her veil had turned yellow in storage, Mrs. Thornton offered the use of her Honiton lace veil that she wore when she married John's father. Margaret was eager to jump at the chance to wear something from John's side of the family and she gratefully accepted the offer, much to Mrs. Thornton's carefully veiled delight.
Margaret, having gotten her way, and then some, on these two points, was more than happy to let the two older ladies decide on everything else. This notion sat well with Mrs. Thornton as she found Mrs. Hale to be quite pliant in these matters.
Margaret, meanwhile, retrieved her writing desk and began to write letters of invitation, first of all to her Aunt and cousin.
….oOo….
John and Fred alighted at Marlborough Mills. They crossed the mill yard and entered the mill. John led Frederick to the carding room where the process of turning strands of cotton into yards of cloth began. Skeptical at first that he would find the manufacture of cotton remotely interesting, Frederick was fascinated. By the end, he was promising the mill master that he would sincerely inquire as to Barbour's interest in the cotton trade either shipping the raw product or the finished one.
The two gentlemen then retired to John's office for more personal conversation.
Looking at the clock John said, "Unfortunately, we will need to leave shortly for Crampton. But before we do, there was something I wanted to ask you."
"Ah," Frederick said, trying to anticipate him, "You want to know why I mutinied."
"No, no," John said, waving the comment away with his hand, "You're a Hale! Whatever it was, you did it to help your fellow man, likely someone of lesser means than yourself. That fierce, reckless kindness that your family seems to possess. One of the many qualities of Margaret that I adore. I knew that even before Margaret explained the details to me. I don't need to know any more."
Fred nodded in gratitude.
"What I really wanted to ask you," John went on, "was if you would stand up with me on my wedding day."
Fred was a bit taken aback. "Isn't there someone here in Milton who would better suit?" he asked.
"I have many acquaintances among the other mill masters," John replied, "but they are competitors too so… I don't have much time to seek or maintain friendships. Your father is probably my closest friend here and… well, he'll have other duties at the wedding. I also think it would please Margaret."
"Well, then, I accept," Fred affirmed, "We are to be brothers after all and, of course, anything to please Margaret. Now, tell me. How did you and Margaret get together?"
"Ah… well… yes," John stumbled out of the starting blocks, "I'll let Margaret fill you in on all the details. The short of it is… I got to know your sister while attending my lessons with your father. We often disagreed and had some – uh- very rousing conversations."
"I can believe that," Fred interjected, "Margaret always was very obstinate and opinionated."
John went on, "We were also – ah – thrown together on one or two other occasions as well. We ended up meeting by chance in London earlier this week and we had a wonderful time at the Exhibition and at Harley Street getting to know each other better and, well, here we are."
After looking at the clock once again, John turned to his companion and said, "Senior Barbour, I think it is time we returned to Crampton."
"Si," Fred replied, rising from his chair.
The two gentlemen then left the office and headed toward the mill yard.
….oOo….
At that same time a man, dressed in a railway porter's uniform stepped out of the servant's entrance of the mill house. As he crossed the mill yard he saw two well-dressed gentlemen exit the mill. He almost stopped dead in his tracks when he thought he recognized the darker man. He looked like an old playmate of his from his hometown of Helstone.
'But it couldn't be Frederick Hale,' thought the man, 'He would be hanged if he were caught on British soil. There is a price on his head, one hundred pounds, I think, for committing mutiny.'
His suspicion abated however as he drew nearer to them. He could hear that the darker man spoke with a foreign accent. 'No, that is certainly not Hale. Anyway, what would he be doing in Milton of all places.' the man concluded and continued on his way.
….oOo….
A/N: I'm bending history a little bit as the 'Diario de Cádiz' was not founded until 1867 according to Infogalactic, but I needed the name.