The Journey Home

Chapter 58 A Noise in the Night

John heard the clinking of cups on saucers in the dining room, and found Margaret and his mother sitting together quietly drinking their tea. He stood in the doorway, watching the domestic scene around the breakfast table. He remained undetected, as Margaret leaned across the table to retrieve a newspaper that sat at his place. He was tired, as if he had little sleep, and found it to be an effort to move his limbs to enter the room. His mother sensed him before he fully entered the room, and looking up,  she exclaimed "Come in, son!"
His mother's pleasure in seeing him was evident in the warmth of her smile. Somehow, Hannah Thornton appeared younger and more energetic than she had the night before. Her sallow coloring was gone and she had the fullness of the woman who stood by him many years earlier when he first purchased the Mill.
"What's this?"  Mrs Thornton exclaimed. "Laying about all morning while there's a business to be run?  Margaret has been calling you, what's gotten into your head, John?"    He looked to Margaret and saw that her attention was fixed on the newspaper in her hand.  A strained look came across her face as she continued to read.   He tried to speak, but the words would not come out. It was as though a great weight leaned against his chest, making it difficult to take in enough air to breathe. What was happening? Margaret stood quickly, the newspaper dropping to the floor as she put both hands to her mouth. "Oh my Lord, Frederick. It's Frederick! He's been captured at Southampton! I must go to him!"
Margaret started for the door when his mother hissed "wait!"  Her indifference to Margaret's plight was clear, as she scolded her like a child . "Think what you are doing, Miss Hale. If you leave now, you will never return. They will charge you for harboring a fugitive when your brother came to Milton.  The naval officials were very clear on this matter. They will arrest you. We shall not be part of this, Miss Hale. You would bring ruin upon this house." His mother  looked to him, seeking his agreement. Despite how hard he tried, the words would not come. He was furious with his mother for speaking to Margaret so insensitively. She was his wife! He would help her brother under any circumstances. Stay, Margaret. Do not leave, my love, the words could not pass his lips.  Margaret reeled as if she had been slapped across the face. She drew back in disbelief; John had not come to her defense.
"But he will hang! I must do something! I will go to my family for help .  Surely Aunt Shaw will know what to do.  What should I do, John?"  She looked beseechingly to him, her eyes searching his for an answer.  Not receiving any response, Margaret found her resolve, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, her dark eyes ablaze with defiance . "Have you no sympathy for my brother? "   He heard the judgment in her voice. " I should have known.  You will fight for money but not for a human being."  Margaret gathered her skirts and quickly walked from the room. 
"No!" He exclaimed, but the sound was muffled. He reached for her as she walked away. He could barely move his legs and seemed to have difficulty decided what he should do next. If he could just have a moment longer, he would tell her not to leave, that he loved her. Some how, he felt that it was important that Margaret understand that he loved her. He finally was able to move and caught up to her, took her by the hand and pleaded with her. "Margaret, please. Stay. Delay your departure. We can work through this together. "
Margaret pulled her hand from his. "I am sorry, but I must leave now. I will not reach him in time if I delay any further. He needs me. You and your mother will be fine here." She turned and walked through the doors into the mill yard. John followed, unable to speak. He was immediately set upon by one of the workers, an enormous mountain of a man, who stood between him and Margaret.
"Two of the looms are jammed. Higgins' team is no where to be found."
He announced, with his arms folded across his barrel chest.  John felt his lungs tightening and his head grew cloudy. He stopped to think. Could he look to the looms and have time to reach Margaret? He asked himself. But when he looked towards the mill gate, Margaret was no where to be seen.
"Margaret!" He called once and then again, "Margaret!"
*****
When he awoke he turned to assure himself that Margaret lay beside him, but found that the bed was empty. He drew in a sharp breath to face the panic that consumed him. The dream had come to him once again; he had found her and lost her, and left his heart broken.  She was gone, as he always knew she would.
"John?" He heard in the darkness. He saw her silhouette by the light of the window. She was wrapped in a shawl over her thin cotton gown.
He sat up quickly and gasped. "Is it you, my love? "
"Yes, of course." John followed her voice, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.  He  put a hand to his forehead as he tried to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.
The tone of his voice concerned Margaret for he seemed lost and frightened. She was by his side in an instant, sitting on the bed beside him.
"I thought that you were gone." He murmured as he drew her closer to him.
"But I am here. We are together now, John. I'm not going anywhere." She gently assured him
"What has you at the window?" He asked.

"I heard the gates outside and went to see what was happening. I had no idea that the men arrived so early." She said as she gestured towards the window.
"It's Williams and a few men to start the lights and the motors. It must be 4:30. " John explained. "I'm afraid you shall hear the gates most mornings."
Margaret lightly touched his face, feeling the rough stubble of a days growth of beard. She could sense that he had calmed and felt his breathing become more even. She drew back, as she realized John's chest was bare and that it was likely that he had nothing on beneath the covers. Margaret was not yet accustomed to seeing her husband's naked body, and she felt uncomfortable looking at him, for fear that he would think her staring unnatural. She forced herself to look away, only to be tempted to look out of the side of her eye at his broad chest and the
light brown hair that feathered across the flat muscled planes.
The fire in the grate was very low and gave only a hint of light, but it was enough for Margaret to see that he was smiling.
"What amuses you, Mr Thornton?" She asked him, turning to face him squarely and look at his eyes only.
"I only smile at your modesty, my love. I find it quite charming. "
He leaned in and kissed her gently, removing the shawl from her shoulders.  He grazed his lips down her neck, seeking out her soft white shoulder. When Margaret responded with an affirmative gasp, his arms surrounded her and he gathered the back of her gown in both his fists, holding her in an inescapable embrace. He drew her back down on top of him, cradling her in his strong arms, and returned his lips to hers.
John felt her body relax and meld into his, as they both lavished in the anticipation of what was to come. The sounds of the mill yard became a distant memory, as the couple stole what little time remained before the start of another day at Marlborough Mills.