A/N: I think my muse has dipped one too many times into the Christmas punch and has inspired me to do a mash up of North and South and How the Grinch stole Christmas. I hope Elizabeth Gaskell is not rolling over in he grave for being lined up with Dr. Seuss (their words in italics)

….oOo….

Every mill hand in Milton liked Christmas a lot.

But Thornton, mill master of Marlborough did not!

The master hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!

Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be the looms weren't working quite right.

Or it could be his cravat was tied on too tight

But I think what had most likely caused him to rail

May have been that his heart had been broken by Miss Hale.

….oOo….

It was December in Milton and the whole town was abuzz with the Christmas spirit. Storefronts on the high street had festive displays in their windows, carolers rang bells and sang songs on the street corners and all the townsfolk went about their business with smiles on their faces and merry greetings on their lips. All, that is, except for John Thornton, master of Marlborough Mills.

Mr. Thornton did not notice any of these things as walked through Milton on his way home from his lesson with Mr. Hale. In fact he could not remember anything from the lesson either, so occupied was he with the words of Miss Margaret Hale: "… the secret is another person's, and I cannot explain it without doing him harm."

What could possibly be so devastating? Why couldn't she offer any explanation? How could his maidenly Margaret have tainted herself so? And who was that man? He didn't dress like a gentleman and certainly no real man would allow the woman he loved to risk her reputation like that – what a cad! It was one thing for her to turn him down but to choose such a man as that!? John was disgusted, upset, and seething with jealousy. He strode right past the carolers without hearing a note and almost knocked over an entire display of Christmas trees for sale.

"I hate Christmas," he grumbled as he made his way toward Marlborough Mills.

….oOo….

The next morning John Thornton sat at the dining table eating his breakfast and reading the newspaper. He wore the same scowl on his face that he had ever since he saw Miss Hale at the train station in another man's arms. It did not matter that she had rejected his proposal months ago, Thornton was still angry and jealous and he seemed determined that not even the Christmas spirit would lift his grouchy mood.

"John," said his mother and he looked up at her. "As we spoke of last week, I am leaving today to spend the holiday at Fanny's." Her son gave a grunt in reply and returned to his paper. However, she continued, rolling her eyes and ignoring his rudeness, "I've given the servants the next few days off for Christmas. Cook has stocked the pantry so you will have to help yourself. I still think you should join us at least for Christmas dinner but do what you will."

Without raising his head, John waved a dismissive hand in reply. As his mother left the room she could be heard mumbling something under her breath about the ill effects of falling in love with one Miss Margaret Hale.

After finishing his breakfast, John went to the mill to oversee his cotton empire, the only thing that kept him grounded.

….oOo….

As the day went on, Thornton was becoming more and more grumpy. His mind kept wandering between the lovely yet missish Miss Hale and the man in whose arms he saw her at the train station. Why did she refuse him and who was the man she was with? John had to chastise himself multiple times a day for wool gathering. Unfortunately he took out his frustrations on his mill hands who were having a hard time attending to their work anticipating the upcoming festive season and production was falling drastically behind. And the children! They could not concentrate at all, must be visions of those darned sugar plums that were making the children dance in his mill. He was even more brusque with his young employees than usual as he greatly feared they might get injured while they frolicked amongst the heavy machinery.

He had a large order scheduled to ship out just after the turn of the year and he was way behind.

The hands were clamoring for more time off than just Christmas day and whisperings of a strike were churning through the rumor mill if the masters would not comply.

"I cannot allow for any more days off," grumbled Thornton to himself. "In fact I would prefer not to let them off at all!"

"They're disregarding their work!" he snarled with a sneer.

"Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!"

Then he growled while the looms went on feverishly drumming,

"I MUST find a way to stop Christmas from coming!"

The hands young and old would sit down to a feast.

And they'd feast! And they'd feast!

And they'd Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast!

They would feast on Yorkshire pudding and savory roast beef

Which was something Mr. Thornton couldn't stand in the least!

And THEN they'd do something he liked least of all!

Every hand down in Princeton, the tall and the small.

Would stand close together with Christmas bells ringing.

They'd stand side by side and the hands would start singing!

They'd sing! And they'd sing!

And they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!

And the more Thornton thought of this loud Christmas-Sing,

The more Thornton thought, "I must stop this whole thing!

"Why, it slows down production which I cannot allow!

I MUST stop this Christmas from coming! But HOW!"

Then he got an idea! An awful idea!

Thornton got a wonderful, awful idea!

….oOo….

That night John stole up to the attic to rifle through Fanny's old clothes. It took him some time but he finally found what he wanted: a red fur lined cloak. He cinched it around his waist with a belt and looked at himself in the mirror. The hood would do to cover his dark hair but he still needed a white beard.

"I know just what to do!" he laughed in his throat

and dashed down the stairs and outside with his coat.

He crossed the mill yard and entered the weaving shed where he found the nearest pile of cotton fluff having accumulated like snow on the floor since the workers had left and the wheels had stopped turning. He fashioned himself a white beard and checked out his reflection in the windows. All looked well except for those dark bushy eyebrows of his. He rubbed some cotton fluff into his eyebrows and decided that would just have to do.

He chuckled and clucked, "What a great cotton fluff trick!

"With this cloak and this beard I look just like Saint Nick!"

With costume complete, he now headed to the mill's stable. While he didn't have reindeer he did have horses. He hitched a pair of Clydesdales to one of the mill wagons and headed out on his mission.