by Elaine Owen
“What?” Margaret sat up in surprise. “The Board of Admiralty! What does that mean?”
“It means, my dear, that the solicitor you hired to try to exonerate your brother is related in the closest possible way to one of the few men in England who could actually make it happen.” He waited for her reaction.
Thornton was not disappointed by Margaret’s response. Her mouth dropped open as she gasped. “This is wonderful! Do you really mean it? If Mr. Redmond’s brother will give Frederick a fair hearing before the board, his name could be cleared almost immediately!”
“Not so fast, love,” Thornton felt compelled to warn her. “It is by no means certain that Redmond’s brother will even hear Frederick’s case, or if he does, that anything will come of it.”
“But Mr. Redmond must be planning on passing Frederick’s information along, or he would not be asking for it!” Margaret could hardly contain her excitement.
“Best not to say anything to Frederick yet. You do not want to raise any expectations.”
“Oh, I know you are right,” Margaret answered, somewhat frustrated, “but this is such good news! For the first time in years, I feel like there might be some hope! Thank you for telling me this, John.”
“I am glad if it makes you happy.” Thornton gently pulled her back down so that her head was resting on him again. But he could feel by the tension in her body that her mind was distracted by the news about her brother. To gain her attention once again he asked, “How is the search for a site for the school coming?”
His device worked, for her attention was instantly focused on the present again. “I have been all over town, but I can’t seem to find anything suitable. All of Mr. Bell’s properties are currently occupied, and everything else I have seen is too run down, or too out of the way. It must be just the right place to attract the students I mean to have.”
“It is just as well. You have been so busy, my darling, so intent on trying to do everything at once. Like helping your brother, starting a school may take months of effort to see a result.”
“I am not a very patient person sometimes.”
“Perhaps you should set it aside for a little while.”
“Set it aside?”
“Just for a while. Let your mind focus on something different, and then you can come back to it with fresh eyes.”
Margaret looked at her husband suspiciously, one eyebrow rising. She was learning to read his moods. “Something tells me you have a particular idea in mind.”
“I have been thinking . . . why don’t we go on a wedding tour?”
“A wedding tour?” she echoed.
“We never had one. Our marriage started so unconventionally that it would have been strange at the time. But why should Fanny and Watson have a honeymoon and not us? Now that the mill is safe there is no reason we cannot take a short trip.”
She considered briefly and decided the idea appealed to her. Getting away from Milton a few days might be just the thing to clear her head and help her start her search anew. “Where would we go?”
“I would like to take you to Spain, to see Frederick, but I cannot leave the mill that long. Instead I thought we might make a short excursion to Scotland. A day and a half there on the train, a day and a half back, and four days in the country. There are ever so many things to see. Drum Castle, for example, and Ballater, plus the lochs. We can make up for some of the time we lost when we were first married.”
“A real wedding trip!” Margaret said, somewhat dreamily. “I can scarcely imagine such a thing. I should feel dreadfully spoiled.”
“I would love the chance to spoil you a little, my darling.” Thornton’s voice was very tender. “You are my wife, and you deserve every bit of care I can bestow upon you. After the trials you have endured the last two years you deserve to be indulged, and I mean that you shall be. Will you agree with me, love? Will you let me take you to Scotland?”
Margaret did agree, and it was not many days later when they took a train north, to areas Margaret had never seen and had not imagined she would ever be able to visit. She and Thornton admired the library of Drum Castle and roamed through the Old Wood. They drank the waters in Ballater and gazed in awe at the nave of Crathie Kirk. They investigated the local shops and even saw from afar some of the grounds of Balmoral, of which the Queen herself was so fond.
It was a precious time. Thornton seemed determined to make up for many months of separation and sadness by making her as happy as possible now. His tender care warmed her, his consideration moved her, and she found herself more grateful for his presence in her life every day. She saw once again his goodness and the nobility of his spirit, and congratulated herself many times on the worth of the man she had married. If it was possible to fall in love with the same person many times over, Margaret did so during those memorable days.
As for Thornton, their honeymoon was the fulfillment of every dream he had ever had. There were many moments between them that were too sacred to share with outsiders, and their bond deepened in ways only they could understand. Days were filled with the wonder of unalloyed contentment and a deep, abiding joy.
They returned to Milton only with the greatest of reluctance, vowing to revisit their favorite haunts together one day.
∞
Two weeks after their return Thornton surprised Margaret by arriving home mid-day and insisting on taking her for an outing. He would not tell her where they were going, but by the time the cab he hired had dropped them off at a building on the edge of the Princeton district, she had a suspicion about the purpose of the trip. Thornton unlocked the door of a long, low, gray-clad building and led her inside, leaving the door open for light. Inside Margaret could see that they were standing in what had once served as a warehouse. “How do you like this building, love?” Thornton asked her.
Margaret looked around her in dawning appreciation, and then in delight, as Thornton told her about the property. “The roof was replaced two years ago, and the drains are good. You will notice that it feels warm here even though it is cold outside. I had the windows and frames checked for leaks and they are tight. What do you think?”
She investigated carefully, walking from corner to corner in the cavernous building. “Can the space be divided?”
“Certainly. We can put up partitions wherever you would like.”
“The area in front could serve as a reception area and office, and we could put two classrooms behind them.”
“And keep some room in the back for storage, perhaps?”
“Yes, I think it might work.” She wiped the dust off of one of the windows and looked out of it, noting their location. They were on a wide, active street lined with sidewalks. Her students would have no difficulty locating the school or reaching it on foot. “In fact, I think it would work very well! Who is the owner? Is it for sale, or would we have to sign a lease?”
“Neither.” Something in Thornton’s voice made her turn and look at her husband. His eyes were gleaming as he said, “We already own it. I bought it for you, my darling. I am finally giving you your school!”
“This is ours?” she asked, incredulous.
“It is yours. I closed on the property yesterday.”
“Oh, John!” She ran into his arms and felt him sweep her against his chest. He kissed her soundly before releasing her, laughing delightedly.
The next two months were full of new challenges and delights for Margaret as she began to organize her school. With Thornton’s prompting she wrote to Mr. Owen in Scotland, the factory owner who had begun a school for his workers, and was thrilled to receive a response full of encouragement and advice in return. The building itself needed little work, but it still had to be thoroughly cleaned; and there were furnishings to order, a curriculum to select, school hours to be set, and a hundred other details to be decided upon. Eventually there would be teachers hired, but to start it was assumed that Margaret would take on the instructional duties.
Thornton was always r
eady to support and recommend, but the school itself was entirely in her hands, and Margaret honestly felt that she had never been happier than when she was arranging something that would have such a beneficial effect for so many people.
Thornton, too, was deeply content with the new circumstances of his life. Margaret’s investment did not wipe away all the challenges he faced in his business, of course. There were still difficulties with locating raw materials, machines that broke at the worst possible times, and increasing competition from producers in America. He could still come home from a day in his office weighed down by the worries of a world that was growing ever more complicated. But when Margaret greeted him at the door every night, ready with an encouraging word, one look at her sweet face was enough to wipe away the burdens of the day. The couple shared the events of the day over dinner, and their marriage flourished.
∞
Late in the afternoon on a bright day in May, Thornton was surprised to receive a visit from Margaret at his office. He looked up quickly when she opened the door and peered inside, then laid down his quill and rose as she came into the room and closed the door behind her. “Margaret! What are you doing here?”
“Am I not welcome at any time?” she teased, smiling widely at him.
“You are always very welcome!” Thornton answered. He advanced to her and gave her one or two convincing proofs of his words. “But you hardly ever come to the office any more, with all your work with the school. Is something wrong? Has anything happened?”
“Something has happened, but I do not believe anything is wrong.”
There was an eagerness in Margaret’s voice, an unusual lilt, that told Thornton she had important news to share. “Sit down here and tell me about it.” He cleared off the chair opposite his desk, the same chair she had sat in the first time she ever came to his office, he remembered. “Have you had news from Frederick?”
“No, it is not Frederick.” Her eyes were fairly dancing with excitement.
“Your cousin, then?” Thornton could not imagine what her news might be.
“No, nothing with family. At least not with existing family.”
He was more puzzled than ever. “Something with the school, then.”
“In a way.”
“Margaret, my darling, it is not fair to keep me in suspense like this.”
“Very well then, I shall tell you. You know that I intended to teach the classes at my little school when it opens next week.”
“Of course.”
“Well, I am afraid the school opening will have to be delayed. I have decided to hire a teacher after all.”
Thornton’s brown furrowed. “I – “ he faltered. “My love, why did you need to come to the office to tell me that? You do not need my approval. And why have you suddenly decided to hire a teacher? I thought you were looking forward to instructing all the pupils.”
“I am following Dr. Donaldson’s advice.”
“Dr. Donaldson?” He scratched his head, puzzled. “What has he to do with this?”
“He said I will be needed at home to care for your son!”
Comprehension broke over him like a wave. “Oh, my darling!” He pulled her close and did not let go for many long minutes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Why wasn’t I called earlier?” the master of Marlborough Mills fumed six months later as he paced back and forth across the parlor floor. “I should have been with her hours ago!”
“Sit down and relax, John,” his mother commanded from her usual seat in the corner of the room, as she placidly repaired a torn seam in one of her best blouses. “You weren’t called earlier because there was nothing you could do, and Margaret didn’t want to pull you away from your work.”
“Pull me away from my work!” Thornton exclaimed, crossing the room with quick steps. “How could she say that? Doesn’t she know there is nothing more important to me than her and our baby?”
“You should follow your wife’s example and exercise a little patience,” Hannah advised, watching him over the top of the glasses she had recently purchased. She had finally given in and admitted the need for glasses while she was doing needlework. “When she felt her first pains she was at the school, enrolling new students, but she did not rush home immediately. She knew the process might take hours.”
“But you said she was brought to bed as soon as she came home.”
“Yes. Well, walking when one is in labor sometimes speeds up the process.”
Thornton stopped his pacing and looked at his mother in horror. “Margaret walked home? All the way from Princeton?”
“She shouldn’t have, I’ll admit,” Hannah conceded reluctantly, “but really, I do not think any harm was done. She has walked there and back before. And you know Margaret. She had to stop and make her calls along the way.”
Thornton nearly groaned, shaking his head. “Do you mean to say that she called on her charity cases while she was having pains?”
“So she said.” Hannah bit off a piece of thread. “Of course I would have put a stop to that if I had known.”
“Oh, Mother!” Thornton fairly dropped into a chair, overcome with anxiety, and put his face in his hands.
“There is no need to fret now. All is well that ends well. Or it will end well, we hope.”
Thornton gave his mother a dark look. If she was trying to reassure him she was failing miserably.
∞
It was not long after this that the cry of a newborn child came down from the second floor. Thornton stood in relief, but he did not relax as he peered as far towards the stairs as he could. After what felt like an hour but was really only a few minutes Dixon came down the stairs and into the room, beaming proudly. “Master Thornton, everything is done,” she announced. “The baby and Miss Margaret are well, and Dr. Donaldson says you can come up now.” Thornton did not have to be told twice. He was off and up the stairs like a shot.
Inside the little room Margaret was sitting up in the small bed, still damp and disheveled from her efforts, but with a new queenly glow that fairly radiated around her. She was gazing rapturously at a small white bundle lodged next to her on the bed and did not notice Thornton until he was standing at her side. Then she raised the starry eyes he loved so much to him, and he saw that she had tears of joy on her face. “We have a son,” she said, in a voice just above a whisper. “I wanted you to have a son!”
“Oh, Margaret!” Thornton sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. “Are you well?”
“I have never been better in my life! Look at our son! Isn’t he beautiful? He looks just like you!” She drew back the blanket around the bundle lying next to her, drawing Thornton’s attention to a minuscule reddish face that, at the moment, was crumpled into a scowl. The child gave out a small mewing sound.
“A son?” Thornton repeated, staring in near disbelief. He had known that a child was coming, of course, yet the moment was still difficult to absorb. Where there had been two people, just him and Margaret, now there were three. The miracle of the moment took his breath away.
“I would like to introduce you to John Richard Thornton.” Margaret lifted the bundle with a rapturous expression Thornton had never seen before and held the baby out for him to take.
Thornton accepted the unaccustomed burden with trembling arms, dreading lest any unexpected movement should make him drop the child. He could not prevent the tears that sprang into his eyes as he gazed into his son’s eyes, blue eyes, so like his own. “You want to name him after me?” was all he could say, awestruck.
“He deserves to be named after the finest man in the world,” Margaret answered, stroking the dark hair on her son’s head. “But I would like him to go by my father’s name for every day to avoid confusion, if that is all right.”
“Oh, my darling, it is perfect!” Everything was perfect. Margaret, in the first glow of new motherhood, was perfect. His son with the scowling expression now relaxing into something more peaceful was perfect. Th
e paternal pride pooling in his chest, the house at Marlborough Mills that now housed a growing family – all was perfect. Nothing had ever been more marvelous in his life. He could have sat on the edge of the bed savoring the moments with Margaret and his son forever. “How I love you! How I love both of you!”
But the spell was broken by Dr. Donaldson, whom Thornton had forgotten about until that moment. “Thornton, there are still some matters I need to address here, and then I will leave you alone with your little family. Perhaps you could go tell your mother that she will see her grandson shortly.” The doctor spoke gruffly but there was a smile under his bushy mustache.
“Of course.” Thornton kissed his child again, then reluctantly replaced him on the bed next to Margaret. He stood and leaned down to kiss his wife gratefully, tenderly. “Thank you, my beautiful wife! My very own Margaret!” The words were inadequate yet they contained his whole heart. Margaret smiled back, her eyes full of love. Then he turned and left the room.
∞
Hours later Thornton cautiously pushed open the door of Margaret’s bedroom, hoping not to disturb her. He knew from Hannah that his wife had fallen asleep earlier and that the baby was in the bassinet next to her. He could have chosen to go to bed in his own room, but he could not bear to be separated from his wife and newborn son. Thornton knew he would not rest unless they were both in his sight.
Margaret, however, was not asleep. She was sitting up in bed and reading by the light of a single lamp when he looked in. She smiled and laid the book aside when he entered, welcoming his presence.
He approached her cautiously. “How are you, love? And how is our child?”
She looked over at the bassinet where little Richard lay. “We are both well. I fed him just a while ago.”
“I thought you would both be asleep by now.”
“I was, earlier, but then Richard woke me up. I was hoping that reading a little might help me drift off again.”
Thornton sat down on the side of the bed and took his wife’s hand in his. He could not help glancing over at the newest member of the family, fascinated by his exquisite features. Richard lay on his back in a pile of blankets and swaddling that could not quite conceal the thick, dark hair on his head. His mouth pursed slightly as he slept. His eyes and nose were red and puffy, but to Thornton he could not be more beautiful. “Wouldn’t your father be proud to see his grandson?
