Margaret of Milton

by Elaine Owen

  “But do you think she is happy?” Thornton persisted.

  “Happy!” Hannah snorted in disbelief. “It is too soon to think of her being happy, John. Think of what the girl has been through! But she seems content for the moment. That will have to do for now.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then, “I wonder if there is anything else we can do to make her feel at home. I do not want her to feel uncomfortable or out of place here.”

  “You worry too much, John,” Hannah answered her son firmly. “Margaret will adjust in her own time. She is managing the changes in her life as best she can, relying on her own strength to see her through. I have no doubt that she will succeed. In time you will see that I am right.”

  Another pause. Then, earnestly, “Are you a friend to her, Mother? I am very sure she could use a friend right now!”

  “I am as friendly as I can be, considering the circumstances! But if there is to be anything more it will have to start with a different source. You will have to – “ Hannah’s voice cut off, and although Margaret stood quite still and strained to hear more, she could make out no more of the conversation.

  ∞

  As for Thornton, his business had taken an unexpected downturn the day after they married. A customer who had financial struggles of his own canceled a large order the mill had already begun to produce, and Thornton was left scrambling, spending hours reaching out to other customers to see if they would take the shipment instead. He spent long hours at the mill every day, not returning home to eat until Hannah absolutely insisted. He needed the income from this sale in order to make his next payment for equipment he had installed the year before; without it, his credit and reputation would suffer a serious blow. In the end he had to finish the order and sell it at a loss just to make room for the next order needing to be filled.

  Despite these preoccupations Thornton did not forget Margaret. He asked his mother about her regularly and greeted her politely whenever they met, but he was aware that he should be doing more. For the first time in his life he resented the time he had to spend on his business. If the mill had not been in such dire financial straits he would have been at home more, but some things were out of his control. He knew it was up to him to find ways to spend time with his wife, to make her feel like less of a stranger and more of a family member.

  His first chance to speak to Margaret on any matter of substance came when he returned to the house unexpectedly one day late in the afternoon and entered the parlor. He was startled to find Margaret alone with Dixon, mending a pair of socks. "Good afternoon, Margaret.”

  "Good afternoon," she replied mechanically, before she looked up in surprise. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the mantle. "Are you looking for Hannah? She and Fanny are out delivering wedding invitations."

  "The clock is not wrong," Thornton clarified. "I am simply home earlier than I expected to be."

  "Was something wrong at the mill?"

  "No, not at all. That is, nothing more than usual," he amended with a slight grimace, thinking about his difficult financial situation. "I have just come from a meeting with my fellow magistrates. There was a matter that required our urgent attention. By the time we were finished the day was nearly over, so I decided to come back here instead of my office."

  "I see." Margaret paused, then seemed to make a decision. “Would you like to have some tea?”

  “Yes. I thank you.”

  Thornton sat down across from her rather formally, watching as she gave Dixon instructions and sent her from the room. He waited awkwardly until Dixon came back in with the tea tray in her hands, then watched in fascination as Margaret took up the teapot and gracefully poured two cups. They drank together in silence for a minute before Margaret finally spoke.

  "I hope you and the other magistrates were able to resolve whatever the problem was."

  "I think so,” Thornton answered. He was keenly aware that this was the first time they had been alone together since they were married, and he strove to keep the conversation casual. “The problem was a tricky one, you see. We were informed that there was a fugitive from the law seen in Milton."

  "A fugitive!"

  "Yes, someone who deserted his duty in the militia last year and was seen entering his brother's home on T—Street yesterday. The informant spoke to one of my brother magistrates, who brought it to my attention. We then formed a committee to speak with the informant this afternoon."

  Margaret sat very still, her eyes fixed on him. "What was the outcome of the interview?"

  "It was quite clear by the evidence presented, and by the testimony given, that the man seen entering the house is very likely to be the fugitive. The police are on their way to the home now."

  Worry lines appeared on Margaret's forehead. Thornton wondered what she was thinking as she put the teacup down and took up the sock once again. "Are you afraid of what mischief a criminal might carry out in the area?” he asked. “I can assure you, you are perfectly safe. His only crime is desertion; he is not known to be a violent man."

  Margaret frowned, yanking out a stitch she had just made. "I am not worried for my safety. But I am not disposed to hand a fugitive over to the police without investigating the matter first. Perhaps he had a good reason for leaving the militia."

  "Good reason!” Thornton scoffed. “If there is a good reason for abandoning one's duty and leaving others to expose themselves to the dangers of military duty, I have yet to hear it. Such a man would be a coward, nothing better."

  "You do not know that, not without knowing the man himself." She stabbed her needle into the material in her hand with an unexpected energy.

  "That is not my job,” he countered firmly. “My responsibility is to enforce the law without passion or prejudice. If the man is not a coward, let him make his case to the crown and be judged accordingly. Then and only then can we decide if he had a so-called good reason to desert his post. For my part, I doubt it!"

  Margaret said nothing in response and he sensed that his answer troubled her. He wished he had not spoken so strongly. He should have realized, knowing her tendency to side with the downtrodden, that her sympathies would be aroused on this man's behalf.

  "You do not blame me for doing my duty, I hope?" he added, after an uncomfortable pause.

  She smiled wanly. "I suppose you are bound to do what you believe to be right, just as the rest of us are."

  "Never cruelly, I hope, but yes," he confirmed. "I always try to live up to the duties required of me as a magistrate."

  "Even if they are against your own inclinations?"

  "Even then," he said firmly. Inwardly he wondered at her question. Was she thinking back to the inquest into Leonards' death, the investigation he had stopped in order to protect her reputation? It was the one time as a magistrate when he had definitely put his own wishes before his duty, exerting his influence to save her from disgrace. One day, perhaps, he would be able to tell her that he had done it for her, only for her, but this was not the time. Too many changes had come too fast. But one day, he promised himself, she would hear the whole story.

  In the meantime he should change the topic to something less personal, less likely to bring up painful memories. He picked up the newspaper lying nearby and opened it casually. "What do you think of the Milton weather lately? Do you think we shall have rain tonight, or will it hold off until tomorrow?"

  ∞

  The next morning Margaret came down to breakfast and found both Thornton and his mother in the room. Thornton was usually at his office by this time of the day, but instead he and Hannah were seated at the table, speaking earnestly to each other. They did not immediately observe her when she entered, and their voices carried clearly in the quiet room.

  "Latimer has agreed to extend the payment due by one month, but that is all," Thornton was saying. "I cannot wring any more concessions out of him."

  "What about Watson and his speculation?" asked Hannah. "Would it not be wise to throw your lot in with him?
"

  Thornton shook his head. "His plan is risky, Mother. Terribly risky. I dare not try it."

  Margaret heard the grim tone in Thornton's voice and noticed his ponderous scowl. She wondered what scheme he was speaking of, but she did not want to disturb him by asking about it. She knew nothing of business.

  Hannah was gently insistent with her son. "If you invest with Watson and it pays off, you could pay all your bills and no one would ever know how bad things are."

  "But if I lose, I would not be able to pay my workers and I would be hurting other people. Is that what you would have me do?"

  "Of course not. I just – " Hannah shook her head in frustration.

  Thornton, looking past his mother, noticed Margaret's presence and stood. His frown changed at once into something more welcoming. "Good morning, Margaret."

  "Good morning," she answered, feeling more than usually awkward. "I hope I did not interrupt anything important."

  "We were just discussing some matters with the mill before breakfast." He smiled apologetically.

  She hesitated. "I can go into the kitchen if you want. I would not want to stop you from discussing business."

  "John is always discussing business! For shame, John!" A swish of skirts announced Fanny's arrival in the room, entering directly behind Margaret. She went at once to the sideboard where fruit and pastries were laid out. "A gentleman should never discuss business at a meal, as Margaret would no doubt tell you. I am sure such a thing is never done in London."

  "It is not my place to make any such objection," Margaret responded gently. "We are not in town, and Mr. Thornton and Hannah are free to discuss business whenever they want." She helped herself to a plate of fruit and took her place at the table, sitting on one side of the table while Hannah was on the other. Thornton was at the top.

  Fanny filled her plate and sat down next to Hannah. "When I have my own house, after Watson and I are married, the only conversation I will allow at the table will be topics that are interesting to ladies. Business rarely is. But since you are speaking of such things already we may as well continue. John, why are you refusing to invest in Watson's speculation? He is a terribly clever man and I know he will make money; if you took his advice you would be sure to profit."

  Thornton's smile had disappeared when his sister entered the room. "What do you know of business, Fanny?" he answered irritably. "Every man involved in a speculation believes his scheme will succeed, but nearly all end up worse off than they were before. I will not risk my well-being and that of my workers in a foolish venture."

  "What do you think?" Fanny turned to Margaret. "Shouldn't John invest his money where it would do him some good, instead of always tying it up in machinery and such? He cannot possibly hope to get ahead if he does not take some risks!"

  Margaret was taken aback. She had no desire to be drawn into a quarrel between the siblings and did not know what to say. Thornton glared at his sister. "I will thank you not to bring Margaret into this discussion. I am quite capable of handling my business affairs on my own."

  "But she should know how things stand," Fanny retorted. "She will hear of your troubles soon enough from other people, if she doesn't hear them from me."

  "This is neither the time nor the place –," Hannah began, but her son was already speaking.

  "Stay out of this, Fanny! All businesses go through difficult times, and this is no different. You have no right adding to Margaret's worries when she is facing so many adjustments already. Think about somebody besides yourself, for once."

  Thornton's eyes flashed with an anger Margaret had seen him demonstrate only a few times before. Fanny returned her brother's look resentfully. "You are making a huge mistake. One day you will be sorry!"

  "I think John is right," Margaret heard herself say. She hadn't meant to speak up, but suddenly she could not bear to stay silent. She flushed as she met the startled looks of the others, but she continued speaking. "A master is responsible for the lives of his workers, not just for his own gain. He must consider whether his decisions will bring good or ill for those around him."

  Hannah frowned as she looked at Margaret. "Are you saying that you would advise John not to join Watson's scheme?"

  "I know nothing about it. I am simply saying that Mr. Thornton knows what he is doing. If he believes that Mr. Watson's venture is too risky, then our place is to support him, not to question what he does!"

  There was a sudden silence around the table. Fanny's mouth was open, staring at Margaret, while Hannah studied her curiously, with one eyebrow raised. In the awkward pause Margaret's eyes met Thornton's. He blinked once; then his face relaxed into a small, soft smile, the same smile she had observed on their wedding day, when he had said that they ought to be friends. It was as different as could be from the thunderous look he had directed at Fanny, and nothing like the serious expression he usually wore when discussing business.

  He said nothing, but Margaret felt herself flush under his gaze. She looked down at her plate but was aware that the heat was rising in her cheeks.

  Hannah cleared her throat rather loudly. "That is enough of such talk," she said firmly. "All of us have work to do today. There is no time to spend in idle disputes. John, you should finish eating so you can get to the mill. You are already late. And Fanny, hold your tongue. Your mind is better occupied with planning your wedding than with your brother's money matters. Margaret, I leave dinner tonight entirely in your hands. Fanny and I are meeting the hotel manager this afternoon to go over seating arrangements for the meal after the ceremony, and I do not know when we will return."

  "I can arrange everything for dinner," Margaret assured her. Secretly she was glad that Hannah and Fanny would be absent in the afternoon. She had not had a chance to write to either Frederick or Edith since her wedding, and she was longing for the privacy afforded by solitude in order to do so.

  The four people at the table finished their meal quickly after this exchange, and then they rose to separate for their activities for the day. Thornton made for the front door and called for his coat and hat. Hannah went into the kitchen while Fanny retreated upstairs, and Margaret stayed in the breakfast room to begin collecting the plates and bowls from the meal.

  She was reaching for the largest serving bowl when Thornton came back into the breakfast room, shrugging into his coat along the way. He came immediately to where Margaret stood in front of the sideboard. "Before I go I wanted to thank you for defending me at breakfast, in front of Mother and Fanny."

  "It was nothing," she replied, a little embarrassed. She looked down, away from his gaze, as she stacked the plates together.

  "It meant something to me," he insisted. "I do care for the welfare of my workers, and I was glad to hear you say it."

  "I realized that some months ago, but I could not tell you that I was wrong," she admitted. "I have very much regretted that I did not say it before."

  Thornton studied her face as he adjusted the tie around his neck. Margaret wondered if it was too tight for him; the simple action seemed to be giving him a great deal of trouble. "Shall I see you at dinner tonight then?" he asked. "We have had hardly any conversation, you and I, since the wedding."

  "Whatever would we talk about?" She finally dared to look directly at him.

  "Anything but weddings," he answered, with a ghost of a smile. "How you are settling in, perhaps, or what you think of Marlborough Mills. Whether your room suits. I should like to know if there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable."

  "I would like that," she answered honestly. "It has been so long since – "

  She was cut off by Hannah, who entered from the kitchen at that moment. "Margaret, have you collected the serving spoons yet? We need to – " She stopped when she saw Thornton. "John, why are you still here?"

  "I was just leaving." Thornton swept his hat on to his head and nodded at both women. "Good day, Mother, Margaret." He turned and left the room.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

&nb
sp; "I think John is right."

  Margaret had finally said it. She had called him by his name without him asking her first, and she had probably not even realized when she did it. The memory lifted his spirits and warmed his heart as he crossed the yard that separated his home from the mill.

  It was strange, Thornton reflected, how little time two people could spend together even though they were married and living in the same house. He and Margaret had been in each other's company on multiple occasions since their wedding, but it was never for more than a few minutes at a time. How could he ever improve his wife's opinion of him when he could hardly see her?

  So he had been almost ridiculously pleased when she spoke on his behalf at the table that morning. Somehow her opinion of him had already changed, at least a little, without him being aware of it. And she seemed to welcome his request to spend time with her that evening. If only there was a way for him to draw her off by herself, so that they could really get to know each other!

  He pushed this question to the back of his mind as best he could as he entered the doors of the mill and climbed the stairs to his office. His struggling business needed all of his attention now. As he reached the door of his office and reached to open it, his overseer, Huely, stopped him. "There's a man wants to see you about a job."

  "A job? With me?" Whoever the man was, he must be desperate indeed to come looking for a job at Marlborough Mills. Thornton knew the industrial sections of Milton were rampant with rumors of the mill's financial straits.

  "I told him he wasn't likely to find employment here, but he said he would speak with you anyway."

  "He's persistent." Thornton tilted his head, considering. "I like to see that in a man. If he is skilled I might be able to find a place for him even with our present troubles. Where is he, and what is his name?"

  "I kept him out at the gate, sir." Huely drew closer, lowering his voice. "It's Nicholas Higgins."