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Speculation

Romance

The speculation of 1851. It was hailed as a sure prospect, every cotton mill owner who invested was sure to succeed, but what it it failed? The city of Milton was soon to find out as some of the most prominent mills closed their doors leaving hundre...

#armitage #classics #drama #elizabeth #gaskell #north #period #richard #south

Speculation - Chapter 9

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by Leah147

by Leah147

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<TD vAlign=top colSpan=3>Chapter 9 speculation The women stood for several long moments within the confines of Mr. Thornton's office regarding the other before any words passed between them. All that could be heard was the throbbing, rhythmic din of machinery as Margaret quickly regained her composure and took in the subtle changes that a year's time had wrought upon the appearance of the stern, foreboding Mrs. Thornton. Her face still bore the proud air of the mother of John Thornton, Milton Manufacturer, with her sharp chin tilted up, standing at her full, commanding height. But Margaret noted the drawn, tired look of a woman who had cares and worries aplenty and far too little sleep. Care-worn lines were severely etched around her eyes; however, those eyes still held a steely gray sharpness that now pierced with fridge directness through Margaret. Finally breaking the silence, Mrs. Thornton curtly bowed her head in greeting. "Miss Hale, you've returned to Milton, I see." Mrs. Thornton's cool demeanor left Margaret with a keen sense that her return was not particularly welcome by all, especially by Mr. Thornton's Mother. Margaret was determined not to let that glacial stare deter her from speaking to Mr. Thornton, she had come to far! Margaret humbly bowed her head and smiled warmly with shining eyes at the older woman. "Mrs. Thornton..." She extended her hand, yet Mrs. Thornton coldly refused to reciprocate the gesture. Margaret felt the slight with a pang of regret. "Mrs. Thornton, I am glad to see you once again. I have come to Milton for only a couple of days on a matter of business with Mr. Thornton; then I shall return to London. Mr. Jensen has gone to find Mr. Thornton and asked if I could wait here." There was no contempt behind Margaret's words, but they struck a raw nerve with Hannah. ~Still as proud and saucy a jade as ever! ~ She thought to herself but instead responded, "My son gave me no indication that you were coming to see him on business, Miss Hale." "My apologies, Mrs. Thornton, but he is not aware of my coming." Margaret replied simply. Mrs. Thornton studied the young women a moment, as concern and fear crept into her heart. ~Why are you really here, Miss Hale?~ Hannah wondered. ~Is it not enough that you broke the heart of one of the noblest men you will ever find, now you arrive unannounced and speak of business?~ All the frustration and pent up anger Hannah Thornton felt for the plight of her son was now released upon Margaret Hale. "A matter of business? What do you know about running a mill such as Marlborough Mills? Was it not enough that you rejected my son, breaking his heart? Now you think you can come here and take over all he has worked his whole life for!" Margaret flinched and drew back. The words were hurled with such force that, had Mrs. Thornton reached out her hand and slapped Margaret across the face, the sharp sting would not have equaled the effect of these scathing words. Her face flushed scarlet and tears glistened in her eyes as she implored Mrs. Thornton in a rush of angst-filled words, "No, no, please, you must understand, Mrs. Thornton. I am not here to take over the mill. I came because, because I..." Her words faltered on her lips. She was about to say that she had come because she loved Mr. Thornton, but caught herself at the last moment. Gathering her thoughts and composure Margaret stood erect, in that manner that had always been mistaken for haughtiness. Reaching out her hand she gently placed it upon Mrs. Thornton's arm, but the older women refused to look at her. Nevertheless Margaret continued, " I came to Milton because..." A sharp rap on the door halted any further words. Both women looked towards the door, thinking the same thing: it was John. The door opened quietly and Margaret let her trembling hand slip from Mrs. Thornton's arm. Mr. Jensen entered the office alone and took in the scene with a comprehensive glance. Removing his cap, he proceeded to greet the women. "Mrs. Thornton, Miss Hale, I beg your pardon, I didn't mean to interrupt." "You're not interrupting anything. What of Mr. Thornton?" inquired Mrs. Thornton. Directing his reply towards Margaret, he continued, "I am sorry, Miss Hale, I spoke to Williams, the overseer, who informed me that the Master is currently helping some of the workers get one of the main looms back on line." He looked over at Mrs. Thornton. "It's been down for over two hours now. Hopefully, it will soon be back in operation. Perhaps it's best, miss, if you come back tomorrow. I was told that Mr. Thornton is sorely late for a meeting." "Thank-you Mr. Jensen, but is there no chance of meeting him when he returns? I would be most happy and willing to wait." Her eyes were filled with such an eager longing that it almost broke the older man's heart to tell her no. "I am sorry, miss, but Master is not expected back until well after the closing of the shift. If you come back tomorrow, I am sure he will have time to see you." "Yes, of course. Thank-you, Mr. Jensen." Margaret's heart was on the verge of shattering when all at once she was seized with a desire almost beyond her control. She yearned to dash wildly out of the office and run through the mill in a frantic search for John. Her proper upbringing managed to arrest this wild, reckless impulse that coursed through her, as she stood motionless in his office. Mrs. Thornton had watched Margaret carefully during this exchange, noting that the girl had turned pale and she seem deeply disappointed. "Jensen," she said after a moment's hesitation, "I'm planning to go out for a while. Will you see that a carriage is brought around? And tell Williams that he is to inform me of the status of the loom upon my return." "I will, Mrs. Thornton, right away." He quickly withdrew, leaving the two women alone once again. Shaking her head in utter disbelief, Mrs. Thornton muttered to herself, "Of all things to happen, that loom has to break down! What will go wrong next? We will never get these orders filled at this rate." She stopped her mutterings to look closely at Margaret. The young woman stood in silence. All color had drained away from her lovely face. The utter disappointment of not seeing Mr. Thornton completely overwhelmed Margaret; she wanted to sit down and cry like little Sholto would in one of his storming fits of rage and frustration, so desperately did she ache to see John. She was filled with a sickening dread that perhaps she never would. Hannah studied the girl for a moment. She looked so desperate and sad. ~Perhaps I have misjudged the young women, but why is she so upset? What was it she was about to say before Jensen interrupted her? Could it be possible that she truly cares for John?~ Pushing the idea out of her mind, she grew concerned over the girl's despondency. "Miss Hale! Miss Hale, are you alright?" she said sharply in her concern. Come, you must sit down, you are looking unwell." Roused back to her senses by the commanding voice, Margaret focused her gaze upon Mrs. Thornton's storm gray eyes. "No, no really, I am fine, Mrs. Thornton. I am quite well." Hannah, although not quite convinced, was gladdened to see color return to the youthful cheeks. Her past experience with Margaret had taught her not to insist any further. "All right, Miss Hale. Are you well enough to see your self back to your lodging, or should I request a cab for you?" Strength was returning to Margaret, and her desire to have Mrs. Thornton understand her real reason for coming flared within her. "I thank-you, Mrs. Thornton, but I am well enough and can see my-self home." She placed her hand once again upon the other's arm, her voice now steady and firm, "Please, if I could have a moment to explain, to help you understand..." Her eyes pleaded with such a burning intensity that it rendered Hannah momentarily speechless. Margaret didn't wait for a response, and her words were resolute. "You once accused me of not knowing the type of man I rejected and that I wasn't worthy of him. You were right, but if you think I came here to take over his business and triumph over him, that I don't feel keenly the misfortune of this mill and his suffering and grief, then you don't know me at all. I care about Milton and its people, and I want to offer what little help I can. That is the only reason why I am here." Mrs. Thornton was mollified by her passionate explanation and began to realize that perhaps she had been too severe on this young woman. "Miss Hale, things have been somewhat strained here at Marlborough Mills. You must forgive my harsh manner. If you come back tomorrow first thing, I will make sure that my son has time to see you." Margaret gave her arm a gentle squeeze and smiled warmly. "Thank-you, Mrs. Thornton. Please, please know that I never meant any offense, ever." Her words were not lost on Mrs. Thornton. "All is well, Miss Hale, we shall not speak of it again. I bid you good day. " Margaret paused momentarily when she reached the main gate. "No, no! I can-not leave!" She thought wildly. "He is here and I'm so close." she whispered vehemently. Turning quickly back around, she passed her eyes over the factory windows; he was within one of the massive factory buildings, but which one? ~Oh, John where are you?~ Her thoughts turned desperate. ~Mr. Jensen! He will tell me where you are! Or surely Mr. Williams would know. Then I could run and find you and tell you just how much you truly mean to me, have always meant to me. Oh, John.~ Tears stung her eyes as she swung back around. It took all of her will to leave Marlborough Mills and John Thornton behind. Margaret stopped for a brief moment in the street. She felt bereft like a rudderless boat tossed about hither and thither on a sea of turbulent waves, with nothing to stop the onslaught of tumultuous emotions as they crashed upon her. Taking in a ragged breath of chill spring air she set off at a brisk pace hoping it would help numb the gnawing ache within her. She moved aimlessly through the Milton streets, but soon discovered it did little to stave off the desperate, painful longing that resided in her heart for John. Finally, she found her desultory wanderings had led her to a place she never expected to see again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With long, quick strides Mr. Thornton made his way through the mill yard. Impervious to the activity around him, he ran the risk of being late and still had to stop by his office. As he maneuvered his way around workers, carts, and wagons containing bales of cotton, his office came into view. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he caught sight of Margaret standing at the main gate. Abruptly, he came to a halt and turned his full attention towards the gate just as a cart of loaded cotton lurched along and obscured his view. When he could see clearly again, her image was gone. He sighed in frustration while raking his hands through his dark hair, then turned and continued quickly on his way, fully convinced he really needed to sleep. Without wasting a moment, Mr. Thornton rushed into his office. He was extremely vexed for losing track of time while working on the broken loom. He prided himself on being prompt, but today he found himself on the verge of being late for an important meeting with his banker, Mr. Latimer. Gathering up the needed paper work from his desk, he swung around in one fluid motion, reaching for his coat before he froze in his tracks. An overwhelming sensation assailed him as he caught the faint scent of lavender mingled with a touch of honeysuckle; he knew that scent. Whirling around, he expected to see Margaret standing behind him, but his office was empty. Furrowing his brow, he shook his head and hissed in irritation before he swung back around to snatch up his coat and hat and hastily rush out of the room. He was late, but in truth wanted to escape the emotions that overcame him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mrs. Thornton just missed seeing her son as she made her way back to their house. She still needed to gather up her traveling cloak and other items before she set off on her daily visit to her daughter. She thought that the ride that day would provide her with an excellent opportunity to ponder in full her recent encounter with Miss Hale. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Margaret stood rooted to the ground as she looked upon her dear little Crampton home. It would never hold the sweet, innocent memories of her beloved charming Helstone home, but it did hold a similar place in her heart. It was here that Margaret had grown into the women who now stood here today. Within its walls, she had learned to see beyond her own world and ideals; she learned how to cope with unbearable suffering and loss, how to fall in the estimation of a dear friend and - most important - how words can cause a kind, and noble heart to bleed. She had caused just such pain to John Thornton and now knew the true loss of love. These suppressed memories flooded back, causing tears to fill her eyes. As she continued to gaze upon her once dear home a black carriage pulled to a stop before pulling away to reveal the presence of Mrs. Thornton. Shock and puzzlement came over Margaret. To her dismay, Mrs. Thornton turned to cast her gaze over the busy street before her eyes fell on Margaret. Both stood in astonishment gazing at the other before Margaret crossed the street. For the second time that day, both women found themselves face to face. Mrs. Thornton was the first to speak. "Miss Hale, what are you doing here in Crampton? I thought you returned to your lodgings." Margaret momentarily felt like a young schoolgirl caught doing something naughty, and her cheeks flushed scarlet. Her voice was soft and low as she replied, "I wished for some air, and found myself here, it was such a dear little home." She paused to select the right words and cast a wistful glance at here former home. "Please forgive me Mrs. Thornton, I mean no impertinence, but may I ask why are you here?" Mrs. Thornton raised her brows in surprise. "What brings me here? Don't you know? Has no one told you?" "No, no one has told me anything in regards to our former Crampton home." Margaret responded in a soft, sincere voice. Hannah was the one who now was surprised and felt a touch of sympathy for the young women. "I thought you knew, Miss Hale. I am sorry. When the speculation failed, Watson lost everything, as I am sure you are aware. This house happened to still be available. Mr. Thornton thought it would do for Fanny and managed to work out a reasonable price that Watson could afford." "Oh, I see," replied Margaret with a small smile, "It was good of Mr. Thornton to help them in that way. I always liked the house, although it was small, it held a comfortable warmth that I became fond of. Is Fanny adjusting well? I truly hope she will come to love the dear little house as I have. I understand Fanny is with child. That is wonderful news. I am sure she must be elated." Hannah was touched by Margaret's sincere inquires, "Fanny is indeed adjusting well. Come, Miss Hale, and you can judge for your-self. Besides, Fanny still has a great love for London society and it would cheer her greatly to hear the latest news." Margaret was rather surprised by Mrs. Thornton's invitation. She remembered that Fanny had a tremendous fascination with London, but Mrs. Thornton asking her to pay a visit was something she never expected, nor could refuse. A great sadness settled upon Margaret as she stood in her father's former study. All the simple comforts and cherished books she remembered were now replaced with a couple of ornate chairs and small tables, and a settee particular to Fanny's flamboyant style. Emotions once again threatened to overtake her, but before she had time to give into them, Mrs. Thornton motioned for Margaret to follow her up to Fanny's sitting room. Placing her hat and reticule on a small table Margaret quickly ascended the familiar staircase. Mrs. Thornton swept into the small sitting room where Fanny was waiting to welcome her mother, while Margaret hovered in the doorway, waiting to be announced. With a torrent of words, Fanny embraced her Mother. "Oh, I am so glad you finally came. I've been so lonely. Tell me all the latest news, oh, and you must come and look at the new papers in the baby's room, Watson doesn't approve but I love them. Fanny chattered on about the baby's room and Hannah could truly say for the first time she was grateful for Miss Hale's arrival in Milton. "Fanny, please be quite for a moment. I brought you a visitor, someone whom you should remember." Mrs. Thornton stood aside and motioned Miss Hale into the room. The morbid sadness Margaret felt ebbed away as Fanny's face beamed with exuberant delight. Margaret couldn't contain her laughter as Fanny rushed to warmly welcome her proudly into her sitting room, and to seat her guest in the finest chair. "Miss Hale! You can't begin to imagine just how delighted I am to see you. You must tell me all the news of London, oh, and did Mother tell you? I am expecting a baby in the fall." "I am so glad to see you once again, Fanny. You're looking absolutely radiant. I am truly delighted to hear your happy news. The little one will bring you and Mr. Watson great joy, I am sure." Fanny was flattered and overjoyed by Margaret's heartfelt compliment. Further conversation was momentarily halted as Jane entered with tea and a tray of spiced nut cakes. Margaret listened quietly as Mrs. Thornton related the latest Milton news, but found her attention wandering as she gazed about the room. Passing strange, she thought; it was not so long ago when her dear mother had entertained the Thornton women in this very room. Now Margaret was the one being entertained. Her thoughts started drifting and once again a gloomy shadow began to creep over her heart as she thought of her dear Father when John Thornton came for tea. Before these morose musings had a chance to overtake her completely, Fanny called her back to the present, eagerly asking to hear all of the latest goings-on in London society. Sitting patiently, Mrs. Thornton quietly sipped her tea while enduring Fanny's squeals of delight upon hearing about the various concerts Margaret attended. Fanny was especially excited when Margaret told her that she had actually attended one of the last London concerts of the famous Swedish Singer Jenny Lind. She was one of Fanny's favorite opera singers, and Margaret was pressed to provide Fanny with every detail of the remarkable evening. Margaret related all of the fashionable dresses she had observed, and much to her surprise gave a fair description of Ms. Lind dress, which enthralled Fanny. But it was the beautiful music that had fully captivated Margaret that evening, and she found herself carried away as she spoke of the powerful uplifting performance. Her description left Fanny speechless, and in awe. Taking quick advantage of this slight respite in conversation, Mrs. Thornton rose to leave. "Fanny, I am sorry, but I must return to the mill. I left some unfinished business and John won't be returning until well after the close of the shift." Taking her cue from Mrs. Thornton Margaret rose as well. "Oh, Mother, can't you stay just a little longer?" implored Fanny. "I am sorry Fanny, please try to understand, I must return." Not one to give up quickly, she turned to Margaret. "Do you also have to leave as well, Miss Hale? Can't you stay just a little longer? I can request a cab for you. I so want to show you the baby's room." Fanny's earnest entreaty tugged at Margaret's heart. Despite the painful memories that were stirred up by being back in the house, she found she could not refuse. "I can stay a little longer Fanny. I would love to see the baby's room. There is no need for a cab; I'll be fine to walk myself home. Mrs. Thornton, thank-you for inviting me to come along with you." Margaret's sweet charm was growing on Mrs. Thornton and she gave the girl one of her rare glimmers of a smile. "You're welcome, Miss Hale. Be careful going back to your lodgings and remember - first thing in the morning, 8:00 a.m. sharp." As the two women made their way towards the baby's room,Fanny grew curious as to what had actually brought Margaret back to Milton. Margaret's simple reply that her return was on a small matter of business satisfied Fanny for the moment, but she always suspected deep down that there was much more between her dear brother and Miss Hale than appeared. Margaret felt an acute stab of pain as she viewed her old bedchamber. It had been the one room that held secret all of the tears she had ever cried over John Thornton. As she gazed about the room, she began noticing all the baby furnishings and little toys. It cheered her heart to see all of the baby things and to know that the room that had witnessed so much sorrow would now be filled with new life and joy. "You did a lovely job of transforming the room, Fanny. The new papers you've chosen are absolutely precious, and the furnishings are exquisite." Fanny beamed at the compliment. "Thank-you Miss Hale. My brother has been especially kind to me since our change in circumstances, and has been very gracious in helping with the purchase of some of the baby items. He even indulged me and purchased these papers that I so fancy." Fanny gazed admiringly at the new papers as her delicate fingers lightly brushed over the walls surface. "Oh, that was so very kind of Mr. Thornton," Margaret replied with a trembling sigh. Margaret moved slowly towards the tiny mahogany cradle, admiring the elegant simplicity of the small piece of furniture that seemed so out of character for Fanny Watson but would have suited her perfectly. Margaret let her fingers glide over the warm, rich wood as she imagined John's strong protective arms wrapped lovingly around her. In her happy vision, they gazed down upon their little baby boy with his shock of black hair like his father's, lying snuggled in the cradle in cozy blankets sleeping, dreaming happy dreams. "It's beautiful, isn't it? John picked it out himself and surprised me with it." Fanny's soft words pulled Margaret out of her revere. Bowing her head she spoke with a voice filled with longing and regret, "Yes Fanny, it's really beautiful. It is perfect. You are fortunate to have such a caring, thoughtful brother." Willing the tears away, Margaret looked upon Fanny and was amazed to see real caring and concern in the once haughty Fanny Watson. Mustering a warm smile Margaret forced the pain away, refusing to let it dampen her visit as she encouraged the continuance of their tour. The women soon made their way down towards the main level. "I promise to visit you again before I leave, Fanny, and I won't forget to send you the program from Ms. Lind's concert as soon I return to London." Embracing as friends, the women said their final goodbyes. Margaret remembered her belongings and quickly reentered the drawing room where she had left them. She found herself alone in the small room, and quickly gathered up her reticule and hat. Before leaving, she cast one last look around the room, which still held within its walls the haunting echo of John Thornton's once impassioned declaration of love. A cold shudder ran through her; she had to leave this house. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Swiftly ascending the stairs, Mr. Thornton rapped his knuckles quickly on the door of Watson's home and waited. John held his breath slightly as the latches unfasten, foolishly clinging to the hope that one day Margaret would answer the door to him, although he knew that was never to be; after all it was a foolish dream. Mr. Thornton passed through the threshold handing Jane a basketful of fruit with instructions to take it to the kitchen. As he placed his hat upon a nearby rack he cast his gaze about the entryway and shook his head. No matter how many times Fanny rearranged decorations and made changes to the house, it never became any easier for him to enter it, Margaret's presence always lingered. With great effort he forced her beautiful image away, and showed himself into Fanny's drawing room where he froze. Standing by the window with her back turned towards him was Margaret! He stared in shocked disbelief. ~No! It can't be Margaret she is in London,~ he thought wildly as he clenched his jaw firmly shut biting back a cry of surprise. He shut his eyes and turned away, shaking his head, he must be going mad. Turning back, he fully expected this ephemeral vision to have vanished, but she stood there still, an immovable figure. His breath caught. Twice that day, John had felt her presence and thought he had seen her. As he viewed her standing in what was once her father's former study, he became convinced that not only was he on the verge of losing Marlborough Mills, but of losing his mind as well. At that moment he didn't care; he was more afraid to breathe lest Margaret disappear from sight once more. Gathering control of what remained of his senses, John told himself that Margaret truly appeared to be real. She was dressed handsomely in a silken gown of striped forest green and sage. He was about to clear his throat, but paused, afraid that if he did he would break some ancient spell that bound her to him and lose her once again. A trembling breath escaped him. He did not want to let her go, but as intoxicating as the vision was, he must know the truth. Finally, he cleared his throat. If she were real, she would turn around. John watched in amazed wonderment as she did turn. He felt as if he lost his grip on sanity as he gazed upon the face of his dreams, with shimmering blue eyes the likes of which set his heart ablaze. Moments passed, but to John it seemed an eternity as he tried to master the kaleidoscope of emotions that were whirling with him. Finally he spoke barely above a whisper in a low, deep voice. "Miss Hale." </TD></TR>

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