Inspired by Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South and the BBC Miniseries with Richard Armitage and Daniela Denby-Ashe.
NOTES: This is an Alternate Universe for the main Characters John Thornton and Margaret Hale. In this Universe Margaret's surname is Wilde.
A/N: I am in need of Betas for this story, I have over 15 Chapters written, but no one has been able to look over them yet. If you are interested, I'd greatly appreciate the feedback!
The trek from Alton was a long one. After hours on the train Margaret was loaded into a waiting carriage in a terrible rain. She stared blankly out the coach window and wondered if she preferred the drumming of rain on the carriage, which seemed to be roaring and loud, or the symphony of fears and worries in her mind. Deciding on the rain, she willed herself to concentrate on its familiar noise.
Margaret remembered Ilchester from her childhood. She had been several times to visit Aunt Winnie at Watson Manse, but never with such a heavy heart. Being sent from her ailing father and childhood home left her with far more worry than hope. Apprehension sat like a stone in her stomach, and her hands were cold even under the layers of her cloak and shawl. She had no idea what to expect from city living. She had never thought about moving from the country, all her life expecting to find a kind country gentleman and settle not far from her father.
The carriage pace changed and Margaret brought her thoughts back to the world outside her coach window. She could see Watson Manse, set directly against the city street, reaching tall into the sky and flanked by similar houses. It was so different from her father's house in Alton. The manse was high and narrow; a blade of genteel living struck up from the dusty bustle of the city. Ryedale, the estate the Wilde family owned was instead wide and sprawling, cradled by gardens and connected to neighbors by footpaths through shaded forests. She winced at the memory.
"Oh Margaret darling!" Aunt Winnie and cousins Helen and Jude rushed down the steps to meet her. "How was your journey? I'm sure you are quite exhausted!"
Aunt Winnie always wore her white-blonde hair in two massive buns at the back of her head. As a child, Margaret imagined that they looked like a pair of beautifully crafted bird's nests. Today her aunt was wearing a delicate silver bird brooch, and the memory of her childhood fancies softened her mood.
"I'm well thank you Aunt." Margaret smiled while stepping out of the carriage. The welcoming faces of her aunt and cousins warmed her, and she was filled with determination. She still felt quite hopeless and lost, but she had resolved to find some peace, some hope in her new situation.
She was ushered into the Manse where she met Jude's husband Mr. Mathew Carter, and Helen's betrothed Mr. Powel. Jude and Mr. Carter looked a good match. Jude, Aunt Winnie and Helen were all of bright hair and blue eyes and of shorter stature. Jude was a half-head shorter than Margaret with a soft looking face that was pleasant to look at, if not the subject of renaissance paintings. Jude's husband was a scant taller than Margaret, well dressed as a gentleman in a sandy coat that brought out the childlike rosy coloring of his cheeks. She smiled to herself thinking that the two looked much like a pair of dolls.
Helen and Mr. Powel looked quite less appealing together. Mr. Powel was thin and angular in his shape. He appeared to be carved from some thorny branch a long time ago. He had to be twice Helen's age and his face scowled while at rest, giving him an air of utter disdain for everything around him. It was a strange contrast to Helen's plump figure and beaming smile.
"I am quite sorry to hear of your father's…illness Miss Wilde," Mr. Carter said, smiling warmly as the party took seats in the drawing room of the manse.
Aunt Winnie set the servants to bring a tea tray and all eyes trained on Margaret.
"I – yes, well." Margaret hated the way that polite society discussed her father's condition. It felt deceitful and pretty. "Thank you," She managed to reply.
"I am sure you are happy to be quit of all that awful business. And we are truly pleased to have you!" Aunt Winnie smiled. "Aren't we Jude?"
Jude, who had been starting intently at Margaret's riding dress snapped into awareness and answered decisively.
"Oh yes, Mother. We are ever so excited to see you cousin! I've already made an appointment with our tailor. You'll need to have a proper dress to meet all of our Ilchester friends!" Her excitement showed quite plainly on her face, and Margaret smiled in return.
"That is very kind of you Jude. I hadn't thought of how different fashions might be here than from the country." Margaret glanced at her apparel. It was clean, crisp, and without wear. However, it did look quite dull compared to the lace rimmed silks that her cousins and aunt were sporting.
"Jude will love nothing better than to have you as a doll, Maggie. It is all she has been talking about since we received your letter. 'Oh how we must decorate Margaret so that she will find a husband straight away!' I daresay she has longed for a new victim in her fashion ministrations." Helen laughed, and so did the others.
Not one to be affronted by her sister's teasing, Jude replied simply, "Well, it has been some time since there was an unmatched lady at Watson Manse." Jude smiled, lovingly it appeared to Margaret, at her husband. He reached out a hand to her and she gave hers willingly.
The tea tray was brought out and Margaret entertained the expected welcoming questions from her cousins and Aunt. She told them that the train and carriage ride went well, that the room they prepared for her was beautiful; that her mother- was she still alive- would be so happy at their assistance in this time of need.
"You remind me so much of her." Aunt Winnie stood and crossed to a side table where a small miniature of two young girls rested in a frame. "My dearest sister." Aunt Winnie lifted the portraits and held them for closer inspection, looking occasionally to Margaret and then back to the painting. "You have her eyes, you know. And coloring I think." Margaret was dark in her coloring, with deep brown waves of curls and honey colored eyes. Her complexion was pale but with a natural rosy color that made her look always half blushing. She was average height for a woman, and stood inches over Aunt Winnie. At twenty-two, she looked to be nearly the same age as her mother was when the portrait was made.
"I'm happy you think so, I miss her very much," Margaret replied, meeting her Aunt's sad eyes.
For the first time since this ordeal began she felt threatened by tears. She had not wept for her father, for herself or their circumstances. Yet suddenly she felt that she might spill over with grief for her long-dead mother. She rolled her eyes inwardly at her own nonsensical emotions.
Aunt Winnie cleared her throat, dismissing the tender and sorrowful moment.
"Well then, enough of all this chatter. I'm sure Our Guest would like to visit her room and unpack." She directed her gaze to Margaret, "I've had your trunks sent to your room. We are very pleased to have you, Margaret."