In Consequence

In Consequence - Chapter 20

This is the last chapter of my story! A short epilogue (yes, short - unlike my last!) will follow, but this largely concludes all that I wanted to convey in this retelling of John and Margaret's story.

Thank you for reading. 

Warmly,

Trudy

By November, Mr. Hale had moved into the great stone house across from Milton’s largest cotton mill. Crates of books had been carried up to Mr. Hale’s spacious new study and favorite pieces of furniture and numerous treasures from the Helstone parsonage had been sorted from the Crampton house to find permanent residence throughout the Thornton homestead.

The anxiety of change could be seen in the flashing of Hannah Thornton’s eyes with every new alteration to her long established order and arrangements, yet she outwardly maintained her rigid poise, calling upon all the practiced forces of her self-control to steady herself from the shifting tides that swept away the old and thrust in the new. She had endured much more than these trifling contingencies in those long-ago days when she had struggled to lay clear before her son the path which had allowed him to rise to greatness. This was his hour, in which he might reap the full reward of all his sowing. She would not stand in his way, nor reprove his choices. This was his house, and it was his right and privilege to fill it now as he pleased while she stood aside to play a lesser part.

Although unreasonable jealousy flared at times and the fear of uselessness suffocated her will to continue on, Hannah bit her tongue when tempted to censure Margaret or her son for any indulgence in new practices that conformed to their unified sense of principle and family.

It was a certain ease to Margaret’s spirit that her father abided within the walls wherein the center of her affections would dwell. But not all at once would the burden of grief be lifted from the widower’s heart. For the first confusing days after his arrival, Mr. Hale largely remained shut up in the quiet sanctuary of his study and Margaret worried he would swiftly form the habits of a recluse.

Fanny essayed to be politely patient midst the upheaval around her, but could not understand the fuss being made over an old parson and told her mother so in whining tones whenever they two were alone. The proud young girl soothed her nettled thoughts with confident dreams of soon setting up her own grand household to perfection when she became mistress of Mr. Watson’s estate in Hayleigh.

So it was with simpering smiles that she received Adolphus Watson’s attentions when he came on Sunday afternoons to promenade along the high street with her in the crisp autumn air.

John and Margaret chaperoned the couple, strolling some distance behind them and enjoying the opportunity to take a pleasant walk together. Husband and wife exchanged knowing looks with a glint of mirth when Fanny stopped quite often to exclaim over some trinket or luxurious fabric on display in the windows of Milton’s finest shops.

“I do believe Mr. Watson would make a gift of anything she sets her sights upon!” Margaret whispered to her husband as she watched Fanny fawn over a fur-lined coat of extravagant style.

John smirked at Watson’s besotted admiration of the loquacious beauty at his side. “Then it’s fortunate for him the shops are closed today,” he quipped in lowered tones.

Margaret smiled in agreement. “But surely, she wouldn’t allow him to buy her anything so costly,” she replied, staring dubiously at Fanny’s antics.

“His pockets are deep; I have no doubt Fanny will seek to find out how deep,” he answered, shaking his head at his sister’s petty interests.

“John!” she chastised him as a grin stole over her face.