Hamilton’s eyes twinkled shrewdly. “Your notions are intriguing, Thornton. Tell me, might you find time to show me about your operation at some near date?”
He dipped his head politely, but his mind shouted in triumph. “I should be delighted, sir,” he answered with all graciousness.
~
After the meal, the entire party adjourned to the drawing room for drinks. Thornton had initially drawn aside with the Hamilton gentlemen, both senior and junior, while his Mother’s attention had been dominated by the Smiths.
The younger Hamilton spoke mostly of his escapades in London at the track and the gentleman’s club. Had he been any less the masterful industrialist, ever searching the words of potential partners and rivals, Thornton’s eyes would likely have glazed over. Men, however, had their caprices, and one never knew where an avenue of opportunity might present itself. A casual social connection could easily flourish into a prosperous venture, if only a man kept his eyes and ears about him.
Presently, however, it seemed the only benefit to entertaining Rupert Hamilton’s tales was to oblige the rather indulgent father. The fellow quite possibly had the most disengaged, fruitless mind Thornton had ever encountered. Apparently Rupert had not, after all, matured any since they had last spoken.
His rescue at last came from an unusual quarter; the two young ladies approached. “Rupert, dear,” Genevieve Hamilton joined in cheerfully, “I am certain that Mr Thornton does not care to hear how many pounds you lost at the track last week!”
“What shall I talk of then, Gen?” laughed her brother. “Those are all of my most entertaining tales!”
The lady was shaking her head, smiling broadly. “Do forgive my brother, sir. I have always been terribly fond of him, but he does prattle on so!”
“All the better to entertain the ladies,” Rupert grinned. “Miss Thornton, may I assist you to a fresh drink?” Fanny accepted at once, batting her lashes and causing her brother to stifle a chagrinned roll of his eyes.
“I say, Thornton, they are a fine looking pair,” Hamilton gestured with his glass toward the couple as they moved across the room. “Do you know; I am still in awe that I have never become intimately acquainted with your family. How long is it that you have been Master at Marlborough Mills? Five years?”
“Eight, sir, last August.”
“Eight! By thunder, I’ve no idea how that could be.”
“I took over after Simmons’ retirement, as you recall. I believe you and he were on less than friendly terms.”
“Ah, yes.” Hamilton quirked his lips to the side in a regretful frown. “I tried more than once to purchase the mill property from Bell, but Simmons talked him out of the sale every time. I am afraid I thought him a meddling old fool!”
“I had not heard that. It was shortly before his retirement, I believe, that you developed interests in London, and were required for a few years to spend much of your time there.”
“True. You are something of a newcomer to the game here, Thornton,” Hamilton winked.
“We are all relative newcomers to this novel world of industry, sir.”
Hamilton saluted with his drink. “In that, I cannot argue. Still, eight years and I can hardly believe we have not known one another better!”
“Fanny and I have always been good friends, Father.” Genevieve, who had been standing quietly by, patted her father’s forearm. “You remember; we went to school together. I called here with my governess so many times! It seems only yesterday,” she sighed, casting her eyes dreamily about the room.
“Fanny and I would take our tea in the dining room, and then we would play the piano in here until shockingly late in the day- and so loudly, too! I remember once or twice, sir, you had even returned from the mill for the day before we had done. I am afraid I must beg your forgiveness for my terrible manners back then.” She tipped him an arch smile which looked anything but apologetic.
“No harm done, I assure you, Miss Hamilton. I regret to say, I do not even remember the events of which you speak, but I am sure we were glad to welcome you in our home.”
The young lady’s smile dipped slightly in disappointment at the failings of his memory, but shone anew at his reassurances of her welcome. “Your family was always very kind to me,” she affirmed. “I have many happy memories in this house.”
Hamilton had been observing his daughter with something akin to surprised pleasure flickering in his eyes. At last he spoke again. “This is a most elegant home, Thornton. One does not expect to find such a fine dwelling so close to the mill. Does not the noise trouble you?”
“One grows accustomed to it,” he smiled. “Just as the fisherman does not complain of the smell of the sea, so the noise of the steam engine has taught me to look to the source of my livelihood and be thankful.”
“Of course. You are obviously very proud of your mill, Thornton. I must say, it has been many years since I have seen it, and it must be quite different now. You are making me look forward to my tour very much,” Hamilton raised his glass.
Thornton grinned. “That is my hope, sir.”
Chapter Five
The remainder of Margaret’s week was largely spent trying to keep her father as contented and as comfortable as a daughter could. She spent many an hour reading with him; though they were seldom engaged in discourse, it brought him pleasure to have her in the same room and a kindred occupation with him. His eyes would wander occasionally, lingering upon her until some sixth sense pricked her attention. When she met his gaze, he frequently only offered a vague smile and returned to his own book.
Richard Hale’s days trudged forward in a steady rhythm, as his regular pupils made their customary visits. He rallied for these times, as they were his only diversions these days, but often seemed the lower and more fatigued after they had gone. The only true interruption to the plodding week was on Sundays, when Margaret accompanied her father to church. It was not the familiar Anglican service which her father sought these days, which discomposed Margaret for more than one reason, but it gave him pleasure and assuaged the nagging doubts which had driven them from Helstone.
Mr Hale was far from alone in his thinking, for a great many of the Milton families attended the Unitarian church… all of the ones of note, she thought with discomfort, as she glanced across the aisle at a dark figure already seated. They found their customary pew as the minister expounded upon the virtues of patience and long-suffering through trial. Margaret listened devoutly- so devoutly, in fact, that she entirely missed the pair of hooded eyes in the pew across the way struggling not to stray to her.
After the sermon ended, she and her father silently rose to go. There were few enough persons here who would wish to detain them after church for conversation, and it was their habit of late to visit with the Higgins family on a Sunday afternoon. It was a comfort to poor Mr Hale as well as Nicholas Higgins to sit for a time, pretending to banish the sorrow which bound them as brothers.
“Miss Hale!” Margaret turned at Fanny Thornton’s cry. Her eyebrows rose faintly in genuine surprise. Attention from that quarter was somewhat remarkable, particularly of late. She unconsciously held her breath when she realized that Fanny was hurrying toward her with another young woman in tow. She fought a desire to bolt. That Fanny might have genuinely friendly intentions in this overture did not occur to her.
“Miss Thornton,” Margaret smiled with a timid kind of warmth. “How do you do today?”
“Right as rain, to be sure,” Fanny chirped. “Do you know Miss Hamilton?”
The other young woman offered Margaret a courteous dip of her head, and Margaret responded in kind.
“Miss Hamilton is just returned from touring the continent,” Fanny informed her blithely. Turning to the other, she added, “Miss Hale is lately moved to Milton from… where was it, Miss Hale?”
“Helstone, in Hampshire,” Margaret replied, wishing to move away. She was in no mood to be made an amusement for
Fanny Thornton and her new friend. Some spirit rose within her and she added, as an afterthought, “I did spend much of my youth in London.” A flash of jealousy, quickly tamped, rose in Fanny’s eyes.
“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Hale,” Miss Hamilton finally answered for herself. “I have heard that Hampshire is lovely. Can you tell me much of it?”
“Indeed, it is beautiful, at least the parts of it that I know,” Margaret smiled. “I am afraid I am not the traveler that you are, Miss Hamilton, but I should be pleased to tell you of Hampshire someday, should you care to hear.”
“Indeed, I shall look forward to it!” Miss Hamilton enthused. “Perhaps I may call on you this week? I have been away from Milton so long, you see, that I am eager to renew my old acquaintances and to make new.”
“Oh… why, of course, Miss Hamilton, I should like that very much. It is rare that I… that is, I am out so little. I seldom leave my father,” Margaret stammered, a little flustered at the other’s unexpected interest in herself.
“To be sure,” Fanny smiled woodenly, plucking at the fingertip of her glove. “I am certain, Miss Hamilton, that you will find the Crampton neighborhood greatly changed since you were in Milton last.”
Margaret’s slowly warming smile fell, but Miss Hamilton’s quick dismissal of Fanny’s slight restored her confidence. “It is settled, then! Mama and I shall call on you Tuesday morning. Will that suit, Miss Hale?”
“It would be my pleasure,” Margaret assured her.
Fanny lifted her shoulders in a silent huff, signaling her desire to move on. “Well, Miss Hale, I am afraid I cannot likewise call. Mama has me at the dressmaker’s all next week!”
Margaret offered a wan tilt of her head. “That must be very trying, Miss Thornton. I know how you would dearly have loved to come.”
Fanny flicked her a withering glance. “Indeed, Miss Hale. It has been too long since I have had the pleasure. Good day!” Fanny dipped a little curtsey and turned, drawing Miss Hamilton somewhat reluctantly behind.
Margaret turned back toward her father, who had wandered a few steps away. He smiled cheerily, patting her hand as he took it. “Well, my dear! It seems you have made a new friend. She appears a genteel young lady, I’ve no doubt the two of you shall get on.”
Margaret smiled bravely. “I do hope so, Father.”
~
“John?” Mrs Thornton pulled down her reading glasses as her son wandered into her favourite room in the middle of the afternoon. She tilted her head. “My eyes must be deceiving me! I would not have expected to see you in so early.”
“Aye, Mother, but it is true. I shall sit with you this Sabbath, rather than returning to my office as I have done lately.” He offered her a bashful smile, the sheepish grin of a wayward boy lately scolded.
“A wise choice,” she affirmed, restoring her glasses and cocking an eyebrow over them. He had found his paper, but his eyes were not focused upon it. “Do you think,” she recalled his attention, “that your tour with Mr Hamilton yesterday will bear fruit?”
John lowered his paper with a long sigh, staring into the fire. “I have cause to hope. He likes speculating, and I have given him every reason to think optimistically of Marlborough Mills’ future. I should think that if he is looking for a place to deposit some of his money, he could do far worse.”
Her sharp ears did not miss a single nuance of his inflection. “And you?”
He shifted his gaze to her. “Me? What do you mean?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You said you had given him every reason for hope here. What of you? Have you not that same impression?”
He draped a tired hand over his eyes. Of course she could perceive his doubt- he had been a fool to think she would not. “I do not know, Mother. It has so long been my habit to believe that if I considered myself unstoppable, I would be. A man’s destiny is shaped by his beliefs, and well do I know it. I have, however, learnt more practical lessons of late; regardless of my wishes or intentions, there are some matters beyond my control. I can command and will and work until I have not an ounce of strength left in my body, but if it is not ordained, there seems little I can do to come against it.”
She shook her head, returning to her sacred reading. “You are weary, John. That is all. I think your long hours are beginning to be a detriment rather than a benefit.”
His hand had dropped to his chin, and he stroked it thoughtfully before he replied. “No, that is not all, Mother. Certainly I have not the youthful energy I had when I first began, but I think I know my physical limits. It is of other matters I speak.” His voice dropped softly. “Much was not foreseen- and that which was, was misunderstood. I was wrong before. I could easily be wrong still.”
Mrs. Thornton lowered her spectacles once more to pierce him with her gaze. He acted as though unaware of her scrutiny, lapsing into thoughtful silence as the hearth fire flickered over his face. She studied him some while, reflecting that never had he seemed to her so resigned.
“John,” she ventured at length, mostly to change the subject, “I want your advice in something.”
“Hmm?” he turned his gentle face toward her once more.
“It is Fanny,” his mother admitted. “I think she is trying to put herself in the way of this Rupert Hamilton.”
John’s brow furrowed. “Has she done anything untoward? Is she cultivating gossip?”
“Not as yet, but as you so recently informed me, Fanny is a girl of whom others must be a guardian.” She watched him visibly flinch, and knew she had indeed hit her mark. It had not been so very long since John had heatedly defended Margaret Hale’s abominable notions of discretion, while in the same breath pointing out the glaring flaws in his own sister. Mrs. Thornton knew what Fanny was, to be sure, but still suffered some in annoyance over that slight.
He considered for a moment. “I do not think she can be in any danger, Mother,” he shook his head dismissively. “Rupert may be the frivolous sort, but he is a respectable young man. Surely his father will not allow him to lead a young lady on if his intentions are less than honourable.”
“It is not that young man’s intentions which concern me. If he be so inclined, he may come ask you for Fanny’s hand as soon as he pleases, but it should not disappoint me if he does not. I only object to you permitting your sister to conduct herself in an unmaidenly manner.”
John stiffened. “I permit? Mother, do be careful! You have made my role concerning Fanny very clear. I pay for her lessons and her wardrobe and keep her handsomely. Her conduct and upbringing were to be entirely your concern!”
“She is entering the world of men, now, John,” his mother protested. “As head of the family and her only male relation, it is your place to govern her flirtations and courtships!”
“Then you would do best to inform me where my attention ought to be directed before she involves herself in some scandal!”
“John,” Mrs. Thornton’s voice was flinty and cold. “That is what I have just done.”
He closed his eyes and sagged back in his chair. He was silent a long moment. “Forgive me, Mother.”
She nodded curtly. “As I said, you are tired, John. You can scarcely attend to a serious conversation.”
He took a cleansing breath, shaking his head to refresh his thoughts. “What, specifically, concerns you about Fanny?”
All business once more, Mrs Thornton flicked over a page as she spoke. “She has been spending a deal of time with Miss Hamilton. They have been in company every day since last Wednesday, and they intended to walk together this afternoon.”
“Walk? Fanny never walks, particularly not in cool weather. She must indeed fancy Miss Hamilton!”
“She may. Or she may be trying to press an intimacy with the family. In any case, I think it likely they are only walking in the most populous areas, where one can be seen in fashionable company.”
John laced his fingers, tapping his thumbs together in thought. “I
cannot yet see cause for alarm, although it is rather unseemly for her to spend so much time… did you say they had been together every day? At whose initiation?”
“Miss Hamilton’s at first, but Fanny’s since then, as far as I can tell. I may question Fanny’s motives, but at present I cannot disapprove of that friendship. Miss Hamilton seems a modest, respectable girl...” She darted quick eyes to her son’s face to discern his reaction.
“Indeed,” was his only response.
“...yet, a truly respectable girl would sense the impropriety of such sudden intimacy,” Mrs Thornton tested.
John only offered a soft hum in affirmation, his eyes back on the fire. He seemed lost in his thoughts.
“John!” she cried after some minutes of silence.
“What? I am sorry, Mother. What is it you wish me to do?”
“Find out what you can about this Rupert, I suppose. I have arranged Fanny’s schedule so that she will be unable to wait upon Miss Hamilton for a few days, but without good cause I hesitated to say more to her.”
“Why, Mother, if your concern at present is nothing more than Fanny’s seeming impropriety in being constantly in Miss Hamilton’s company, surely you can say as much to her. She must again learn civility, if she has forgotten it.”
“I surely can, but I do not wish her to sense that I suspect her true ambitions. Fanny is not like you, John. She is of such a nature that she may become devious and deceitful if she thinks she cannot have what she wants. I have no fear of her willful nature, but I do not wish to arouse it if my concerns are unfounded. I shall choose my battles wisely, if I may.”
He sighed again. “I shall do what I can, Mother. Remember that my own situation with the Hamiltons is rather delicate as well. I do not wish to appear over-eager to Mr Hamilton, but neither do I wish for an immodest sister to tarnish our family’s reputation. Perhaps for now you ought to encourage Fanny to invite her guest to wait upon her here rather more often than not.”
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