The evening of the twenty-first arrived and Mrs Hale, able to recline upon an easy chair, looked admiringly at her daughter, bedecked in a sumptuous white silk gown, ornamented with a string of coral about her slender neck. The warm glow of the coral only served to enhance the redness of her lips and promote her pale, ivory skin, contrasting against her crown of glossy raven hair. Indeed, Mrs Hale - excitable at something to break up the monotony of life in Milton as an invalid - felt, in that moment (whether it was true or not), that Margaret had never looked so very beautiful. Isabel, she acknowledged, had never been seen to such advantage, either. For in her teal dress, the distasteful browning of her skin, instead looked a splendid gold, and she could fancy - though she attributed it to a coming fever - that she verily glistened when the light danced upon her skin.

'You look very well, Isabel,' offered Mrs Hale weakly, but with a kindly smile. 'Although you have no ornament. You ought to have an ornament!' And the thought took hold in her mind and she began to fret, turning anxiously to Margaret. 'Do you have a piece - a simple piece - that might be loaned to Isabel?'

'But I have the very thing!' exclaimed Mr Bell, announcing his own arrival. He had called past Crampton to collect the party in his hired carriage, and brought with him a purchase he had surreptitiously made whilst Isabel had been speaking with Mr Thornton. He pulled from his breast pocket a black velvet pouch and handed it to an anxious Isabel. Nervous fingers tugged apprehensively at the drawstring, as she attempted to reason his bestowing upon her, yet another gift. The bag parted, and a pendant of turquoise fell into her palm, a gasp escaping her lips. She had never been made a gift of jewellery; she had thought it the domain of a lover; the actions of a man who would woo, but Mr Bell - old enough to be her father - had bestowed upon her the sole piece of jewellery she had ever been given as a gift.

'You are too kind, sir!' replied Isabel, at length, slowly shaking her head. 'I cannot accept it. It is too much.' For it was no trifling piece. Certainly not gaudy or ostentatious, but of a fine quality and no doubt, a handsome price.

'Nonsense!' cried Mr Bell. 'A dress with no finishing touch? I would be remiss in my charge of seeing you outfitted if I did not offer you some small piece of jewellery to complement it.' Mrs Hale nodded vigorously in agreement. Margaret - sensing that Isabel was discomfited by Mr Bell's attentions - said only that it would suit her very well, and that she would expect no less from the man who was her godfather and Papa's oldest friend. He does this for Margaret's sake; to spare her green dress and preserve her own collection of necklaces and brooches, Isabel told herself, forcing a smile of acceptance.

'Then I am very grateful,' replied she; saved from further expressions of gratitude by the entrance of Mr Hale, who informed the party that he dare not be late and risk slighting his favourite pupil, and that they must depart at once.

The Hale party were the first guests to arrive, and were - to Fanny's mind - unfashionably punctual. Mr Thornton was delayed on some last minute matter of business, and so it fell to the Thornton ladies to entertain their guests; none of whom having anything in common with the other. Indeed, Mrs Thornton did not have any fondness for Mr Bell - whom she had known for many years - thinking him an idle man who sought to spend his time reading and speaking instead of earning a wage with sweat and vigour. She secretly resented his ownership of the mill property, believing that her son - for all his efforts and endeavours - deserved the title of owner, rather than simply, tenant. Mr Hale, she thought rather a bore, and found she had nothing on which she could converse with him, for he was incapable of grasping the nature of trade and the battle the Masters fought against the hands, resorting always to a stance supported by some religious doctrine. Miss Hale, she noticed, looked very well, but she held herself proud and had that disdainful jutting of her chin which irked Mrs Thornton so, and left her ill-inclined to engage the young lady in polite conversation. Miss Darrow, she thought looked extremely well - never better - and that instantly made her cautious, for she had a suspicion that her son might be partial to the strange young lady, and surely, if he could admire her in a dowdy grey dress, in rich silk - which complemented her colouring so very well - his admiration could only increase.

Fanny did not think so deeply upon any of their guests, but acknowledged to herself only that she had no interest in speaking with the two aged gentleman, and that both young ladies knew not enough about fashion, despite being well attired. It was then, to an awkward and stilted flow of conversation, that Mr Thornton stepped into the room. Mrs Thornton sighed with relief; rescued from having to entertain his guests, and excused herself under the pretext of having heard an approaching carriage. Mr Thornton turned first to Mr Bell and Mr Hale, exchanging greetings, resting safe in the knowledge that his sister would occupy the young ladies for a few moments, but in the next instant she cried out that she had heard Miss Latimer's voice from below, and that she must go and greet her (for Miss Latimer was of the highest fashion and had just been finished on the continent). Mr Thornton noted, with regret, that Miss Hale and Miss Darrow had been sorely neglected, and wished to make amends, but he had gleamed, in an instant, that Miss Darrow possessed about her such a delicate and yet fierce beauty that he did not think he had the courage to look at her, let alone speak to her, coherent words. Instead, he allowed Mr Hale to detain him in some small explanation of the strike, and awaited the arrival of more guests, hoping that once more ladies filled the room, he would be able to step away from Miss Darrow and enjoy observing her from afar.

And such, he did. The room soon swelled with Masters and their wives, businessmen and their daughters. Every unattached young lady was pressed before him; a polite bob, lowered lashes, fluttering at him demurely, with an almost-hopeful expectation. He saw them, but did not see them, for he could see only Miss Darrow. She was stood beside his sister; Margaret being engaged by Miss Latimer. He looked over both ladies, noting their cool attitude to one another, and he surmised that Miss Hale did not quite approve of her. Irritating as he often found her, he could not fault Miss Hale's sober response to the finished lady, however, for she had no spirit or personality, and offered little in the way of warmth. He turned his attention quickly to the object of his admiration, and let his eyes drink in her vision.

Her hair appeared gilt, as the light from the sconces on the wall danced above her head; casting rays and shadows upon her cocoa hair. He had never seen such rich and honeyed colour, as he watched gold thread spun upon her hair. Then came the flash of amber; a warm suffusion of red as she turned her head and cast off all shadow. Her hair was alight, and seemed to dance as he had never seen hair dance; so fluid and mobile was it, in its reflection of the light. Her skin, against the teal - which enhanced her colouring so well - made her appear to him a veritable jewel. He noted with a knotted throat, that her sun-kissed skin ascended all the way up her arm, and continued beyond the cap of her dress, which sat low upon her shoulders. So too, did the golden glow sweep down across her throat, across the sweeping curve of her collar bones and beneath the low, yet graceful cut of her neckline, towards - where! - he could only imagine. He swallowed, shook his head a fraction, and sought not to dwell upon it. But he could not prevent his eyes from glancing upon her body and taking in every curve and turn of her figure. And her arms! Where the ladies before him showed off their round arms, which tapered to the hand, Miss Darrow had in the arms, a slender limb which looked hand-carved by a revered sculptor. He saw the curve of muscle, yet slender and slight in her femininity, then contrasted with a flat edge which spoke of useful purpose, and he sensed in that one limb, that she was a woman of action, and would never sit idle. He had always known her to wear a simple dress, which did little to enhance her figure. He had thought her small and slender, but he saw, in the rich silk, which clung to her body like honey to a spoon, the gentle flare of delicate hips, the swell of a bosom, which, by no means large, was yet full and enticing.

His sister spoke - some inanity no doubt - and he saw it; ah! Yes, an inanity - for Miss Darrow's brow dipped a fraction as though something foolish had been spoken, before she cleared her expression and smiled softly with her eyes. He thought the smile forced, but as he looked upon the glinting hazel ellipses, fringed with dark lashes, he saw the smile in the eye, and knew her to be pleased. Amused at her, he thought knowingly, not amused with her. Her lips, noted he, with a sigh - dwelling a moment longer upon her face - curled upwards into a wide smile. So full and of such a proud and darkened pink, they looked so very kissable. He frowned sharply as the traitorous thought stole across his mind, and tried to shake it off, yet his sister spoke again, and Miss Darrow broke out into another broad smile, her lips parting, showing an expanse of white teeth; not perfectly aligned, but pleasing, and so very on display with the broadness of her smile. The sound of laughter met his ears; unrestrained and unafraid, and his stomach roiled as he sucked in a sharp breath. He turned away and claimed a conversation with Mr Horsfall, but his eyes betrayed him, and continually sought out Miss Darrow. Standing beside Hamper's wife - no longer amused - she stood erect and square-shouldered, her neck a proud pylon; unobtrusive yet commanding of the eye, with an inertia which so wholly contrasted with Fanny's fussing and fretting, as his sister stood close by in conversation with Miss Hale. He looked at that woman - the one who had so quickly claimed the title of "great beauty" and he observed that both daughter and goddaughter had within them an innate stillness and gracefulness of posture, yet in Miss Hale, her whole baring bore an expression of pride which had a tendency to leave the observer feeling cold and inferior, whereas in Miss Darrow, he saw only an obedient discipline. The rigidity of her person was unassuming, and spoke of one who sought composure, but there was a tilt of the head and a softness about the mouth, which spoke of a simplicity of heart and mastery of the person. He thought her - as she stood so boldly in posture, and yet so softly in expression; as her hair shone like a crown of gold adorned with rubies, as her skin glowed like one shrouded in gold leaf - the very loveliest person he had never looked upon. Not a great beauty sure to inspire the admiration of the masses, but a beauty who pierced his heart and captured his soul in her tiny fist, gently squeezing, then releasing, each touch, each look, a palpable sensation of longing.

Mr Horsfall turned about, requested by another speaker, and Mr Thornton stole his chance to greet Miss Darrow, having been incapable of offering her a formal greeting upon first seeing her in all her splendour. He strode quickly across the room in no more than five long paces, and inclined his head before rising back up to his full, imposing height; stood proud with wide shoulders; eyes intently focused upon her. Mrs Hamper appeared gratified by his arrival, and turned promptly to an older lady beside her, showing Miss Darrow her back. He felt the slight and bristled, but Miss Darrow only smiled what must surely have been a smirk - and indeed! - the eyes glistened with a playful mirth and he exhaled in relief.

'Good evening, Miss Darrow. I apologise for allowing myself to be interrupted earlier; I am tardy in my greeting.'

'Not at all, sir,' came her ready reply. She was, in truth, quite over-wrought. He blinded her with his beauty. His great height sent him towering above her, and his vast expanse of shoulder - the broadness of his back - gave him such an impression of strength as to send her heart pattering against her chest. He was dressed in the sharpest of black suits, with the whitest of crisp linens. He could not have appeared to a greater advantage if he had dressed the dandy and chased after fashion. Where some might call his appearance staid and austere, she felt him graceful and understated in his very masculinity. His attire was set off with a golden cravat and having never seen him in anything but black and white, she had been unable to refrain from stealing glances at him all evening.

'You look very well,' he said low; his voice strained, his brow dipping. He was not in the habit of speaking intimately with ladies, and knew not how to express himself, but Isabel felt the compliment, and was so very flattered - so very shocked - that she could not deny an admission of her own.

'I admire your cravat. I think the colour quite becoming. It sets off your eyes and -' But she cut herself short, having been about to admit that it brought out the red of his lips, but she could not speak to him of his lips - those very lips she so longed to kiss and feel pressed against her own. She blushed in embarrassment, but Mr Thornton, having no knowledge of what she had been about to say, worried only that he had unsettled her with his attempted compliment. Little did his know that she watched those thin lips part and curl with every word he spoke, longing to feel them dance thus upon her own pink ribbon. She frowned, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. He is Margaret's. You cannot have such thoughts! said Isabel to herself.

But she could not foresee that Margaret observed them from beside Fanny Thornton, smiling a satisfied smile. For Margaret - disinterested in the way that all are, who do not fear an unrequited love - could see the looks each gave the other, and felt sure that love would blossom. Certainly, Isabel - for all her strange ways - was unlikely to be accepted as a proper lady, and she had not a penny to her name, but to a manufacturer - to one little more than a tradesman - she felt there could be no objection.

'What amuses you so, Miss Hale?' asked Fanny, with a drawl. She was bored and wished to sit down to dinner.

'Oh! nothing, I am sure. I was simply remembering something; that is all.' Fanny scowled, displeased to have been excluded from some supposed enjoyment, and turned hastily to Miss Latimer.

'Miss Latimer!' called she, her voice shrill and jarring, causing Mrs Thornton to shudder. 'Miss Latimer, when you were on the continent, I wonder - did you go to the Alhambra?' A furrowed brow ensued, a quietly uttered "no", and Fanny Thornton's scowl returned again. The exchange did not go unmissed by Isabel, who turned to Mr Thornton in amusement.

'I wonder; has your sister ever met anyone who has been to the Alhambra? And if she ever does, do you think she would be pleased to learn of this admired place, or should enlightenment steal from her some keen sense of intrigue?' Her tone was so natural, so easy and free of reserve, that he felt his heart swell with warmth, and he allowed himself a fleeting hope as he had never allowed before. Perhaps she is not so very indifferent to me; perhaps I would be enough to induce her to give up her independence? he asked himself, cautiously. But before he could formulate a reply, Mr Slickson arrived at his shoulder, and dragged him off by the arm. A look of regret was his parting gift to her, and thus, he was wrenched away. Isabel knew they would be discussing his imported Irish workers, who would soon be upon them, and felt a flash of fear. That he should be hurt! she cried inwardly, never realising that she had not spared one thought for Margaret and the blow she knew her companion was destined to suffer.

Mr Thornton spoke sharply to Slickson, keen to return to Miss Darrow before everyone took their seat at the table; he wanted to be the one to see her to her seat - to feel her hand upon his arm - but just as he extricated himself from his colleague's conversation, he saw Mr Bell come to stand before Miss Darrow and take up her attention. He felt yet another lash of jealousy - just as he had in the drapers - and tried to shake it off, but he lost all hope of doing so when the party was called to the table, and Miss Darrow was led in by none other than Mr Bell. One person, of course, was quite relieved by Mr Slickson's inopportune timing, and that was Mrs Thornton. She had watched her son make eyes at Miss Darrow from the moment of her arrival, and she felt sure his regard for her was deepening. That he should choose to admire her was unsettling enough for the matriarch, but she could not cede to the idea that at a party of all Milton's first families, it should be Miss Darrow - penniless, foreign Miss Darrow - who should be the one escorted into dinner by her son. He was forced to make do with Anne Latimer, which gave him no pleasure, but pleased his mother greatly. Let him marry his banker's daughter, mused Mrs Thornton, inwardly. She would suit him well. Miss Darrow, for all her interesting and pleasing eccentricities - for all she looks in a silk dress - she is not for John; not half good enough for my John!

Isabel was seated next to Mr Bell, who was well-situated with Margaret on his other side, and Mr Hale directly opposite. Margaret was relieved to find that she had her father and godfather for ready company, and did not realise that their party had been specifically placed furthest from the most-prominent of Masters. Now Mr Horsfall was the germ of the party - the dinner being held for his very purpose, and other families invited in honour of the dinners they were owed - and, being only an occasional visitor to Milton - was not wont to spend all evening speaking only with the raucous Masters. Mrs Thornton had, therefore, grudgingly placed him beside Isabel, who found herself at the centre of the table. If she had been able, Mrs Thornton would have kept the guest of honour well-apart from the Hales (whom she felt had no place at her table), but as unknowns to the rest of the party, propriety insisted they were included in conversation. Isabel was, thought Mrs Thornton, the least likely of the three - the three being Mr Bell, Margaret and herself - to prove a dissenter to any talk of strike, which was seldom free from the lips of the Masters. No; Mrs Thornton knew Isabel to have an interest in manufacturing, no great affinity with the workers - as Margaret most certainly did - and moreover, she knew Isabel to be respectful of her place; she had felt - despite her son's ill-considered preference for her - that Isabel was the safest person to place in the immediate presence of Mr Horsfall.