POLES APART

Chapter 14:

Mrs. Thornton, Mr. Thornton and Miss Hale all looked at each other with hesitation and dread after this proclamation, but they said nothing. They heard Dixons shuffling footsteps retreat down the hall, where after Mrs. Thornton and Miss Hale silently exited the room together to meet their guest. John, after giving Margaret's fingers a last squeeze, hurried down the passage in the opposite direction in order to quickly neaten himself up before also venturing into the lower portals.

Both the ladies entered the small parlour to find Mrs. Shaw standing at the small begrimed window straining to see through the murky glass into the darkening mill courtyard beyond. The evident curl of her lip left no doubt in either observers mind about how distasteful she found her surroundings.

The grand lady had her hands ensconced in delicate silk evening gloves of palest yellow, which she purposefully kept well away from the dirty window pane and sill. On her crooked arm swung a small reticule, which was covered in the most intricate gold embroidery work. She wore the same ermine shawl which had adorned her shoulders that morning when she had called on the mill house and her dress was of the same delicate yellow hue as her gloves. This latter article; however, also bore several yards of gold lace which had been artfully gathered around the throat and sleeves; evidence of an unrivalled cosmopolitan modiste of the first water.

Margaret found herself admiring all these small details, something which she felt sure she would never have noticed before. She was rather proud of herself; her short career with Mrs. Pratley had not been a complete waste after all.

Mrs. Thornton noticed them too, and could feel the choler rise in her throat to see this grand lady with her even grander clothing looking down her nose at what was once considered by many in Milton to be one of the grandest parlours in the town - an invitation to which was a highly coveted commodity! Her irritation was tinged with sadness as she looked around at the once gleaming tables and ornaments now covered in thick grey dust, the once lustrous windows now smudged and grimy, making the room appear darker and colder than it already was with only a few lamps lit and a small fire burning in the grate. She sighed quietly to herself before she straightened her mien and defiantly raised her chin.

Margaret was the first to greet their guest.

"Aunt Shaw!"She cried out enthusiastically.

Her aunt's head spun around at her words and upon alighting on the source she hurriedly stepped forward to embrace Margaret. Mrs. Thornton observed with a sly grin that the grand lady's stay laces groaned audibly at being so suddenly called into service to prevent their mistress' girth from escaping their confines and ruining what to the untrained eye (and ear), was an immaculate arrangement.

'At least', thought Hannah, 'I do not yet require assistance in tying up my corsets.'

But despite her bile, Hannah had to admit that Mrs. Shaw looked genuinely pleased to see her niece. Her face which had moments before been contorted with repulsion now shone with delight as she graciously kissed Margaret's cheek. Her eyes seemed to glisten in the lamp light with some unshed tears, but other than this one small symptom, she kept exceptional control over her emotions. Hannah was immeasurably relieved – she wasn't sure she could manage to keep her composure if this paragon of London society were to reenact her blubbering's from that morning.

"My dear Margret! It is such a relief to finally set eyes on you! My dear girl, I should hardly have recognized you. You poor dear thing, everything you must have suffered…"her voice seemed to crack a bit at these words.

There were so many varying emotions currently running though Margaret but she had been sad for so long that she was determined not to retread that worn out path. She had grabbed hold of her Aunts hands and she squeezed them gently as she replied in as light and confident a tone as she was able to muster; "My dear Aunt you must not think on such things. I assure you that I am well enough now and that, after all, is all that truly matters."

"Oh my poor girl," uttered Mrs. Shaw in pitying accents as she returned the gentle pressure to the small cold little hands in her grasp. She waited with bated breath for Margaret to go to pieces and to break down in tears, but Margaret simply continued to smile at her. She felt much calmer seeing Margaret look so content, and within a few moments she had convinced herself that she had not been wrong in not hurrying back to England to be by her niece's side, as Mrs. Thornton had tried to imply that morning.

Indeed, Margaret may be a little thinner and perhaps a little paler but over all she looked very well considering all that had transpired and she didn't hesitate to glare at Mrs. Thornton over Margaret's shoulder, in silent chastisement of the guilt which that lady had been so eager to lay at her door but which, it seemed to her, was in fact completely unnecessary. All the pain and suffering she claimed Margaret had endured seemed to her to have been gotten over tolerably easily. She of course didn't mean to imply that Margaret was without feeling, but she had always known her niece to be strong and independent and it was only Mrs. Thornton's scolding that caused her to doubt her own judgment of her niece's character.

In fact, being of a self-centered nature as she was, it had not taken Mrs. Shaw many minutes before she had completely relinquished any and all trace amounts of guilt which she had been laboring under all day, and instead directed her energy in not only feeling very sorry for herself but also trying to garner Margaret's sympathy over the terribly long and uncomfortable voyage she had been forced to undergo on her return to England. The channels currents had flatly refused to abate and after nearly two weeks waiting for calmer water she could wait no longer, and armed with smelling salts and hot water bottle she had ensconced herself in her cabin to withstand the rigors of such a torturous crossing. And though she had been back on firm land for a good few days now, she could still feel the ground beneath her feet swaying to and fro, in that sickening rhythmic pattern that caused her insides to tauten and her stomach to lurch.

Margaret knew her Aunt too well to take much offense of her selfishness. Of course Mrs. Thornton; who couldn't abide self-pity nor those that sought a kind of martyrdom as a means of aggrandizement, was seething! She held her tongue however, as she could see by Margaret's knowing smile that she was no stranger to her Aunts histrionics and that she took no offense by it.

Mrs. Shaw would probably have spent the whole of the evening discussing the many perils she had endured simply to get to Margaret's side and had by this time talked herself into believing that she was indeed the heroine of this tragedy. Thankfully, however; her narrative was interrupted by the unpropitious arrival of Mr. Thornton.

Mr. Thornton was a somewhat quelling figure to most people. His imposing stature and assertive mien belied his kind nature. He had lived in world of cold hard business, with colder and harder masters all competing to gain the upper hand and secure better profits at any cost. His outer gruffness and firmness; well-honed and trained over the years, acted like a mask of war, frightening the enemy before the battle had even commenced. But despite outward appearances, inwardly he had retained a lot of his softness and kindness. He tried not to advertise it but he cared for his workers welfare, an absolute taboo amongst the other mill owners. He loved his mother and cared deeply for his friends, and above all, he expressed his love and emotions for Margaret so freely and honestly that to her, and anyone else that knew and loved him, he was a kind man who cared for and protected that which was dear to him with a sometimes fearful passion.

All of this was of course lost on Mrs. Shaw, who stood almost agape at his commanding figure as he seemed to tower above all three ladies present. Her astonishment was momentarily eclipsed by her confusion when after introducing himself he extended his hand toward her. Mrs. Shaw looked curiously at the proffered appendage, not knowing what he meant by it. He almost immediately realized his social faux pas and with all alacrity recalled his arm lamely to his side. Margaret could see the evident embarrassment writ across his face and eagerly tried to come to his aid.

"Dear Aunt, do not look so bewilderingly at Mr. Thornton, it is a common custom up here in the north to greet strangers and friends by means of a warm hand shake." Margaret's cheeks coloured slightly when she recalled the first evening Mr. Thornton had dined at their house in Crampton and he had offered to shake her hand. She had been mortified and embarrassed to be expected to touch a strange man in such a seemingly intimate manner and in her discomforted state had been incredibly rude by refusing to extend her own hand. Mr. Thornton seemed to also be reminded of that incident for as Margaret looked consciously at him, her face tinged with a soft warm glow, he smiled coyly at her, happy to know that they were both thinking of the same thing and satisfied as he realized how far his dear love had come during her time in Milton.

Mr. Thornton was not the most loquacious of men, especially in the company of strangers the like of Mrs. Shaw's Ilk. They were poles apart in terms of up-bringing, of social standing, of values and beliefs – it was almost impossible to find two people more vastly removed from one another than Mr. Thornton and Mrs. Shaw, but then John could barely keep the silly grin off his face when he remembered that he had at one point considered his beautiful Margaret to be just as far removed from himself and from all he would have hoped and wished for in a potential bride. He could almost laugh out loud now when he realized that the exact opposite of what he had sought was now in fact the most precious and highly prized article he could claim to have a share in – the love of his most dear and beautiful friend. Truly, poles apart, North and South, Man and Woman – there could be no two people more exactly crafted by God himself to fit as perfectly together as they did.

Mrs. Shaw, unlike Mr. Thornton, WAS of a very garrulous disposition and all the while that John had been lost in these musings, she had maintained a steady stream of inane chatter, vacillating between the weather, the roads, the tides, the blackness and smoke of Milton, the hardships her niece must have endured and of course how she had prophesied all of the events which had ultimately unfolded and had tried to warm her poor sister of the terrible evils that would befall her should she follow her husband to this unholy place. Thankfully John hadn't heard a word for if he had he might at this moment look as thunderous as his mother did. Her illness may have abated somewhat but it had left her pulled and weary and in no mood to be scolded and insulted in her own house by this creature who obviously thought herself very grand but who was gradually edging towards very thin ice.

Margaret could see that her Aunt had greatly offended Mrs. Thornton. Her first concern had been for her Dear John but oddly he didn't seem to be paying any heed to the conversation. But one glance at Mrs. Thornton's cross and reddening visage was enough for Margaret to realize that she needed to steer the conversation down a different path if she had any hope of trying to win over the formidable Mrs. Thornton and the very prejudiced Mrs. Shaw.

Though an exhausting commission, Margaret was successful in her endeavors, and dinner passed by comfortably enough. Not long after they had repaired to the dining room she had skillfully steered the conversation in the far safer direction of Edith and her son. Mrs. Shaw, as is typical of any proud grandparent, did not need a second invitation to enumerate at length all of her grandsons charming mannerisms and darling expressions. And when not discussing his almost intelligible gurgles, or cherubic countenance she was lost in admiration of her gallant son-in-law and how good he was with her little darling grandson, or how devoted her beautiful daughter was while tending to her little angel, and just how perfectly motherhood suited her dear Edith.

Of course Margaret had been in regular correspondence with Edith ever since arriving in Milton, and had had to endure several crossed pages from her cousin expounding on all of little Sholto's dearest moments. Margaret didn't begrudge her cousin her happiness, she loved Edith as a sister and was in fact very happy for her. She had in recent months thought much on her and her cousin's disparate circumstances, but as unfair as they may appear to an outsider she knew that her cousin would never have survived her own life. She could at least admit to herself with no small amount of pride, that she was much stronger than her cousin, and that thought had often given her added strength in some of her darkest moments.

With all her ingenuity at keeping the conversation flowing, the act of dinner had seemed to pass by much quicker than Margaret would have wished. Quite the opposite for Mrs. Thornton, who could not wait for it to be over. John had ventured to make a few comments during dinner but Margaret could tell by the look on her Aunts face that she had already judged him and found him wanting in all the qualities which she felt a gentlemen should possess. Margret felt sad as she observed her aunt. She knew that her tidings were not likely to be well received by this lady; that her Aunt would judge the Thornton's by her current surroundings and not by the good people that they actually were. Her heart burned with shame when she realized that she too had once judged John and his family before she truly knew them.

"My dear Mrs. Thornton, I must thank you most graciously for inviting me to dine with you this evening. It has been such a pleasure to see my dear niece again. And indeed, to see her looking so well and so much as she used to do. I am sure after a few weeks back in Harley Street, with fresh air and home comforts she will be so much restored that you and your son should hardly recognize her. Indeed, my dear Margaret, there cannot be much of your dear parents belongs left to pack up, so I feel confident that we should be able to leave this place by the noon train tomorrow."

Margaret had been expecting this pronouncement, but it still made her stomach feel as though it had sank down to her toes. John's face whitened as this verdict seemed to rouse him from his musings. He hastily glanced at Margaret and then at his mother. Mrs. Thornton could say nothing but she glared at her son trying to communicate a million unsaid strictures with just a look. John seemed to understand exactly what his mother was trying to tell him but while he respected his mother's opinion in all else, he truly felt that in her judgment of Margaret and of what was best for her, that she was very wrong indeed.

John made a strange coughing sound as if to clear his throat ready for speech at last; Margaret forestalled him however.

"My dear Aunt, truly I have missed you all so dearly, but my life is here now in Milton. I know that you see this place as I once did when I first arrived here but it has become so very dear to me now that I would be loathed to leave it." She had tried to avoid any specifics, not having quite the courage to come out boldly and say that she was engaged to be married to the man sitting on the couch opposite her.

"Of course you have my dear child, no one could wonder at it, as it will always be the place where you shared the last of your loving moments with your dear Mother and Father, but really Margaret there is no question of remaining here! Of course Mr. & Mrs. Thornton's kindness towards you has been …."

But here John could wait no more, he must speak, he must lay his claim in no uncertain terms, before this grand lady – come what may.

"Please Mrs. Shaw, though no doubt well intentioned, neither I nor my mother require any thanks for the kindnesses we have rendered Ms. Hale. Mr. Hale was a very good friend of mine, and were it even for that fact alone I would have done all in my power to assist his daughter in any way possible; but it was not just the friendship I felt towards Margaret's father that prompted me to offer my assistance to his now orphaned daughter." Margaret looked at John, colour rising to her cheeks as he stared resolutely back at her. He was not ashamed of his feelings nor did he have a problem expressing them but they had been his own private treasured dreams for so long that to say them out loud felt so unbelievably unreal to him; that is was only by looking at the object of these affections and knowing that here in this very room just the previous night he had held her lithe body pressed tightly against his chest, felt her warm sweet breath in his face and tasted the divine nectar of those two soft rose-hued lips, that the incontrovertible truth of her love for him could not be denied.

Mrs. Shaw, oblivious to the tenor of his impassioned speech, was puzzled by Mr. Thornton's use of her nieces Christian name, and for a moment wondered if this too was some strange northern custom to which she was unfamiliar.

Thornton tried to steady his breathing as he continued; "Over the time that I have grown to know Margaret, I have cherished a deep affection and love for her, a love which she has welcomed and returned. Last night I asked Margaret to be my wife and she has graciously accepted my hand. Were Mr. Hale here with us I would lay my heart before him and entreat him to grant his permission to marry his beautiful daughter, but in his absence Mrs. Shaw, I beg you to lend us your blessing for our proposed union."

The speech was uttered in very formal accents. John had sat upright with his proud chest and broad shoulders stretched back and his chin inclined upwards as he had given it, in a sort of silent defiance lest the Great Aunt feel that he was either not worthy of her niece or that he could in any way be moved from his purpose.

The room was in complete silence save for the odd crackling issuing from the fireplace. Margaret, who had the conscience to blush at John's pronouncement had at first cast her eyes down at the floor, now looked up, first at John, whose face was rather white yet determined; and then at Mrs. Thornton who was resolutely looking over her shoulder at the other end of the room. Margaret looked sadly away from Mrs. Thornton and when her eyes finally came to rest on her aunt's face, the shock and disbelief etched there would have seemed almost comical were it not for dreadful heavy sensation slowly clawing at her heart.

"You cannot be in earnest?" muttered her Aunt at last after several tense minutes.

"It is true Aunt. I have happily accepted Mr. Thornton's offer of marriage."

"Yes, but only because you felt so isolated here. You surely cannot love him?" incredulity and prejudice infected every word, but the final word was uttered with such disdain as to rend Margaret's heart strings.

"Is it so hard to believe that someone such as your niece should be able to love a man such as my son?" Hannah spoke quietly but the dangerous inflection in her tone was glaringly obvious. She almost dared the other woman to say one word against her son.

The two older women glared at one another, one's face a picture of confusion and shock, the other growing redder by the second, reflecting the heat and hue of the fire next to her.

John still sat in resolute silence, seemingly oblivious to the battle lines which were currently being drawn in the sand. Margaret however, was not so ignorant and knew that she must do something if this evening's work was not to end in all-out warfare of which they would both be causalities!

"Please Aunt, do not speak in such a way, I beg of you! I know that it must be very hard for you accept the truth of this pronouncement, as to you it must seem sudden and ill judged; but I beg you to consider that despite my years I am no child. I've seen and experienced hardships and loss in this town in ways which would leave you cold and broken at the mere thought. Earlier, when you enquired of my health and my sufferings, I did not elaborate as it would be pointless and self-indulgent to do so; but I have suffered Aunt. I have bitterly felt the cold injustice of Fate to deprive me first of my brother, then of my home, and then when I had been struggling so valiantly to overcome these losses and embrace our new life here in Milton, It saw fit to rip the only two people I still had left to me in this life from my grasp; to plunge me cruelly and pitilessly into a blackened maelstrom of pain, regret, anger and loneliness – and all this it forced me to bear alone in my cold empty world from which all light and warmth had been stolen.

"But then just when I thought I would be completely overcome by the oppressive weight of the blackness pressing upon me, I felt a hand reach out to me – take hold my own small cold empty member and pull me up from the fathomless depths. A warm comforting grasp, steady, strong and reliable – a hand which I had no right to expect and which I myself had spurned not many months previously. Though I was weak and felt sickened by all my weeks and months of isolation and agony, I could feel the warmth pervading my limbs, I could feel the light beginning to bloom in the forgotten recesses of my splintered heart, as though this undeserved friend had brought with him a new Spring to my desolate Winter." Though Margaret had reached forward to take hold of both her Aunts hands before she began this speech, her eyes were resolutely turned towards John, not leaving his face all the while she spoke the truth which had been her burden all these months. Her eyes remained fixed on his as she continued; "Indeed I do not know what you would have found here in Milton upon your return to England, dear Aunt, if it had not been for John Thornton and his mother. And yes, you may say that all of this would indeed create a certain indebtedness to them for their kindness and care of me but certainly no more – but though I only recently began to fully understand the depth of the feelings and emotions which I had been carrying in my fractured heart, I have also realized that I had these feelings for much longer than I had realized, indeed long before my mother and father left me alone in this far away town full of smoke and death." Here her soft hazel eyes, still fixed on John Thornton's cool blue ones, began to glisten as they filled with tears. Tears of her own shame at her ignorance of love, and how fortunate she had been that John, though hurt and broken by her rejection, had taken her in, loved her still and given her that second chance to love him back.

Mrs. Shaw had sat dumbfounded and incredulous during this monologue, and Mrs. Thornton scarcely less so. Both women's faces alternating between the two lovers as they stared at one another from either side of the room. The lovers eyes remained fixed on each other as if the two matriarchs were not even present. Mrs. Shaw may have been too shocked to notice but Mrs. Thornton, knowing somewhat more of the nature of Margaret's disclosure observed the undeniable attraction that seemed to writhe and pant in the heavy atmosphere between her son and his love, like some half-starved caged beast. Margaret's words were less of a shock to her than this physical evidence of the truth of her words. If she had ever doubted Margaret's sincerity, Margaret's true love for her dear son - she doubted it no more.

Though still not entirely decided in favour of Margaret, she knew only this: firstly, that John would never find another woman who loved him so entirely and completely as Margaret evidently did; and secondly, that she had best not waste any more time in trying to keep them apart but should rather make haste to ensure their immediate betrothal lest the beast now pacing betwixt them in agitated confinement were to break free and consume all modesty and innocence in its haste to satiate its carnal appetite. After analyzing Johns face she had no faith in his self-control at all, and Margaret's face gave her even less hope.

With this in her mind, Mrs. Thornton uttered the unthinkable – so unthinkable in fact, that every eye in the room (even the eyes absorbed by loves unspoken lust), turned to stare at her in utter bewilderment.

"I believe, Mrs. Shaw, that between Miss Hale and my son, there exists a bond so intimate and strong that it would be difficult for any outsider to fully comprehend, but which I think one look at both of their faces would confirm as being nothing short of true and unwavering love. With all the hardships she has had to bear here in Milton, I believe that Margaret has learnt to trust her own heart and mind, and I believe that any interference from either you or me on the subject would be an insult to her growth and maturity, and I imagine would fall on deaf ears anyway." With this proclamation she gently rose to her feet and moved to where John sat frozen on the edge of his chair. She gently placed her pale little hand on his broad shoulder, which he instinctively covered with his own large strong fingers, and with her other hand caressed the side of his strong square jaw.

"My dearest boy, though the thought having to part with you nearly breaks my heart, if Margaret is the true wish of your heart's desire, then I have nothing more to say than to wish you both joy." Her voice was soft but it crackled with suppressed emotion and almost gave out altogether as she uttered the last few words.

"Do you mean it mother? Truly? Are we to have your blessing?" asked John breathlessly, incredulous but hopeful.

With the air of one approaching the scaffold, Hannah Thornton replied; "Yes my son, you have it."

The tone with which these words were uttered were fortunately lost on her son as he basked only in the longed for affirmation of his heart's dearest wish.