Roses and Lace

Chapter 13

Mrs. Hannah Thornton had spent the past several days ruthlessly cataloging the household's assets and expenses. She had severely reduced the order to the grocer but otherwise had made no overt changes. She said nothing directly to the servants, but two of the girls had already given their notice.

She would see to it that all the staff would get their full compensation and appropriate references, but Mrs. Thornton felt her back stiffen at the thought of the girls' faithlessness. Until the lease was truly up, she was still the mistress of this house, and she would act as such.

At least John's telegram from some township outside London had been somewhat reassuring. Not of his prospects but of his unflagging resolve. While Hannah herself had felt her spirits sinking hopelessly downward, even lower than they had done during the worst of days, this time her son, John, had been the strong one. He would work as hard as he needed to, and he would pull himself back onto his feet, standing tall, no matter how much it hurt his pride. The unfairness of it stung her so harshly she felt tears come unbidden, but if anything she was even prouder of her son now than she had been at the height of his fortune.

Thank God Fanny was safely married to a secure and, if somewhat foolish, as least a fortunate man.

Hannah heard a carriage approach the gate and come to a stop. She moved to the window and watched as John himself stepped into the yard. He paused a moment just looking up at the empty, silent expanse of the mill. Then he turned to where she was watching at the window and nodded to her before proceeding on to their home with an even, determined walk.

All would be well, he had written.

Her son was strong, and Hannah was strong. She would be as strong as he needed her to be.

Their one remaining servant took John's bag and hat and coat at the door. Hannah listened to his step, sure and even, up the stair, and as soon as he entered the room she could see, not grim determination, but something bright, almost a smile playing about his face.

"What is it, son? What's happened? Have you found an investor?"

And then he did smile, a smile brighter than any Hannah had seen on him since many years. "Yes. Yes, I have found an investor, Mother. I have secured a loan, and I can reopen the mill."

Hannah sat down into the nearest chair. Surely it would have been easier had he landed such an investment weeks or months ago. The suddenness of whirling from despair to resignation to relief was almost dizzying.

"Who is it? Some London gentleman? Someone you met at the Exhibition?"

"Actually, mother, it's... it's Margaret Hale."

He was still smiling. Hannah stared at him and bit her tongue. He looked happy and hopeful. That... girl. John would never be free of her. Even though she had left Milton entirely, she would keep toying with Hannah's son.

Hannah sucked on her teeth and tried to choose her words carefully. Nothing polite was coming to mind. "...Margaret Hale."

"Yes. And Mother..." John's look became almost stern. Hannah sighed. He was about to chide her for seeking to protect him from his own foolish emotions. "Mother, I have asked her to marry me, and she has agreed."

Hannah could only stare at him. "But surely... Why now? What sort of girl rejects a man at the height of his powers and accepts that same man when he has been brought low? What does she hope to gain?"

John came forward then and knelt before her and took her hand in a way he had not done since he was a boy. But it was with a man's stern and determined visage that he met her eyes. "Mother. I know that you have never had much regard for Miss Hale. But I have admired her from the moment I first saw her, and my feelings have never changed. It is true that she did not... care for me when first I asked her." His brow furrowed at this. "But much has passed between us since then, and, Mother, I do believe that she has come to love me." He looked at her with almost a pleading cast to his eyes.

"Oh, my John..." Hannah touched his cheek and sighed. She called to mind all her memories of Miss Hale. Proud, beautiful, headstrong, stubborn, and then such a gentle, solemn sadness to her during that last visit, after her parents had died. It wasn't so much of a wonder that her John had fallen hopelessly in love. Hannah herself had tried to treat her as a daughter, once, only to have her good advice thrown back in her face. Such a changeable woman.

"I worry for you, John. I am afraid that she will hurt you. Deeply. And with, of all things, the whole property of house and the mill in the balance. She will have a complete hold over you, John." She shook her head. "And how can you say with certainty that she loves you? Wasn't she out walking with some other gentleman after dark at the station? What of her love for him?"

Astoundingly, John smiled at this last point. "It was her brother," he explained. "Her brother had come to be with their mother before she died."

"Brother? What brother? But the Hales never mentioned a son!"

"They kept him a secret. He was in the navy, it seems, and wound up in a mutiny. He is a wanted man. He only came back into the country because it was his mother's dying wish to see him again. He lives under an assumed name on the continent, but his true name is Frederick Hale. Miss Hale was seeing him to the station to be sure that he wasn't captured along the way."

He noticed her skeptical expression. "Mother, I have no reason to doubt this. I have no reason to believe that she has ever had an attachment to another man. And, although I can hardly credit why this should be, I have every reason to believe that she has come to truly love me. She offered me the loan to reopen the mill before I approached her."

He smiled gently, as if this should explain everything.

Hannah took a deep breath. "These Hales... Headstrong daughter. Dissenter father, may he rest in God's peace. And now a mutineer for a son. I hardly know what I should believe, or what I should feel. And you want to marry into this family, John?"

He chuckled at that. "I do, mother." He stood up from before her chair at last. "I know it is all very sudden, but you will have some little time to get used to it. Her Aunt Shaw, the one who came here to bring her back to London, has invited you and Fanny to stay with them before the wedding. We are planning to be churched in a month's time."

Smiling still while she shook her head after him, he left her there to sort out her shock and relief and worry and disbelief.