Chapter 18. Wool and Water

It was decided that Dixon would accompany Mr. Hale and his daughter to Oxford to act as a lady's companion to Meg. They closed up the house in Crampton for several weeks, and Dixon asked Mary if she would check in occasionally to ensure that all was well in their absence. When Meg told Doctor Donaldson of her impending travels, he replied that he was glad she was going, and ordered her to enjoy her time in Oxford. "You deserve a holiday and a change of scenery after all that you have been through the last few months," he said sagaciously.

Nicholas and Mary wished Meg good travels, telling her that, although they would miss her dreadfully, they would be eager to hear stories of her grand trip to Oxford and the colleges upon her return. "After all," Nicholas said roguishly, "We will be looking for a school for our scholar, Tommy, some day."

Mr. Hale had fretted that he should let Mr. Thornton know of their departure, so Meg urged him to leave a letter with Nicholas, who could deliver it to Mr. Thornton at the mill. She had no desire to meet Mr. Thornton before leaving for Oxford, not in her current vulnerable state. At the wedding breakfast, when her eyes met his, she felt as if she stood before him naked, letting him know all of how she felt. She feared he had seen the love and longing in her gaze; she knew he had seen something by the way his eyes kindled and his brows rose. She said a fervent prayer of thanks for Fanny's interruption that allowed her to slip away with her father. Informing Mr. Thornton of their departure by letter rather than in person seemed the most expeditious, if cowardly, means to tell him of their absence from Milton.

Within twenty-four hours of receiving Mr. Bell's letter, all three intrepid travelers were settled on the train and wending their way to Oxford. Meg had moved heaven and earth to sort things out so that she and her father could be on the train within one day of receiving Mr. Bell's invitation. Each appeared lost in their thoughts as they rumbled along in their train compartment. Mr. Hale was anxious and excited simultaneously; he had been away from Oxford for so very long, he did not know if he would recognize it, he confided to Meg. Dixon was happy to be away from the fogs and smoke, and endless chores to be done at the house in Crampton.

For her part, Meg was relieved to be away from Mr. Thornton for a time. She felt drawn to him, and luck seemed to derive ways to place him in her path. He was dangerous, and she could feel her resolve to maintain her distance slip a bit more each time she was in his presence. Some time apart from him would help her regain perspective and think clearly.

If only she knew what was ahead, she thought in desperation. Perhaps Mr. Hale would decide that he wanted to live in Oxford again. He had so many fond memories of this venerable city, and had told Meg numerous stories of his studies and adventures while he had been there. If he were surrounded by his friends and academic pursuits, he might not be as dependent on his daughter. Meg might be able to return to Milton-and slip back to her own time.

Only one incident clouded their pleasant journey. As he searched for his glasses to read, Mr. Hale found his letter to Mr. Thornton in the breast pocket of his jacket. He had forgotten to give it to Nicholas. He anxiously fretted that Mr. Thornton would be offended if he came to call and did not find them at home, but Meg soothed his anxieties, assuring him that Nicholas or Mary would explain their absence, and that he could mail the letter to Mr. Thornton upon their arrival.

When the travelers reached Oxford, they were delighted to see signs of spring evident in the fields and gardens. The flowering trees were budding, and Meg rejoiced to feel a hint of softness in the clean, fresh air. No smoke or fog marred the skies, and small clouds mottled the blue heavens.

Mr. Bell met them at the station, and was delighted to see that Meg had indeed accompanied her father. "Meg, you've come," he called out, a look of delight on his face as he embraced his old friend Mr. Hale. "And you've brought Dixon," he said cordially, nodding to the servant standing behind Meg. "We are but a short carriage ride from my lodgings-I can offer you tea, and then settle you into the inn where I have procured rooms for your stay. I am sorry that my own rooms are entirely too small to accommodate all of you. How lucky that I guessed you would come with your father, Meg-I arranged for an entire suite of rooms for you so that you would be comfortable while you are here."

Chatting on, he led them into the commodious carriage, and gave the direction to the driver. They drove into Oxford along the lovely streets of the town. There was much to see and exclaim over, and Meg, who had never been outside of London save for Milton her entire life, was enchanted by the stately buildings of the colleges, and the green open spaces.

Mr. Bell regaled them with his plans for their stay-he and Mr. Hale must attend several evening activities in conjunction with their reunion, but that left their small party ample time to dine with friends, attend musical performances and plays, and walk about the surrounding countryside. Meg settled back into the plush cushions of the carriage with a sigh, and smiled brightly at Mr. Bell. The prospect of dinners out and nights at the theater was a welcome diversion from Milton, and her yearning for one of Milton's inhabitants, she thought wryly.

********

Mr. Thornton felt his heart rise into his throat as he made his way along the cluttered street of Crampton to the Hale's door. Stepping sprightly up the stairs, he knocked loudly upon the door, and stepped back, awaiting entry. Several moments passed with no sound of activity within. He rapped again, but still no one approached the door. Frowning, he wondered where Mr. Hale and his daughter could be, and why the servant did not respond. As he reluctantly turned to go, he caught sight of Higgins' daughter hurrying toward the house.

"Miss Higgins," he called out peremptorily, and she gazed at him with curious eyes. He added in a quieter tone, "Where are the Hales?"

She dropped a quick curtsey as she reached him and said rather breathlessly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Thornton, but Mr. Hale and Miss Meg have gone to Oxford to visit Mr. Bell."

His heart plummeted at the news. "I see," he said stiffly. "How long will they be gone?"

Mary thought for a moment. "No return date was set, sir, but Meg did mention perhaps a fortnight."

A fortnight, he thought dully. He had come here today, throwing caution to the wind, to ask her once again to marry him. Since she had rebuffed him, he had sensed a softening in her regard toward him. He had begun to hope that she was far from indifferent after all, until Fanny's wedding breakfast. What he had seen in her eyes as he caught her gaze across the table had stolen his breath away, and he was certain that she could not be indifferent to him. Business obligations had made it impossible for him to come until today; as a result, it would be several long weeks before he saw Meg again and had the chance to tell her he loved her and gauge how she felt towards him. He was bitterly disappointed.

"You say they have gone to Oxford to visit Mr. Bell?" he asked.

Mary nodded. "Yes sir, Meg said something about a reunion of Oxford men, and that Mr. Bell had invited her, as well." She smiled brightly. "She was very excited about visiting the town and the colleges. Father was asking her all sorts of questions about where she would go and what she would do."

Mr. Thornton's mouth twisted. She had found the time to tell Higgins she was leaving, and probably Doctor Donaldson as well, but had not spared a thought for him. So much for her deep regard, he thought with profound bitterness.

He bowed stiffly to Mary, wished her good day, and departed stormily. Mary watched him leave and thought she had never seen a man look so angry or disappointed.

********

The days in Oxford sped by in a pleasant haze. Meg spent many hours exploring on her own, taking long walks while her father and Mr. Bell met old acquaintances and discussed books and politics all hours of the day. When time allowed, they had attended several musical productions, and spent a memorable evening at the symphony. Mr. Bell had managed to procure a box, and Mr. Hale sat forward listening to the beautiful music with the greatest attention. Meg snuck peaks at his relaxed and happy countenance throughout the performance. The symphony played a variety of lovely pieces; Meg was overjoyed to hear Chopin's Waltz in A Flat Major, and his Sonata No. 2, Opus 35, known as the Funeral March. It was during the performance of the sonata that she noticed tears on her father's cheeks, and reached over to clasp his hand. He turned his gaze to her and smiled sadly, and she knew he was thinking of his wife.

On other evenings, Mr. Bell treated them to a performance by a string quartet, and took them to hear a tenor sing. These presentations were thrilling to Meg, who never had the time or opportunity in London to see plays or go to concert halls. Mr. Bell delighted in her enthusiasm, and promised to procure tickets for a play before their visit ended.

Meg was happy to see her father more cheerful and in better health. He tired easily, but with his mind turned to pleasanter topics and prospects, he lost some of the gloom and grayness that had descended on him in Milton. He would walk some afternoons, but more times than not he stayed behind reading some new-found delight from Mr. Bell's extensive library, leaving Mr. Bell and Meg to wend their way through the town streets or along the nearby country lanes to take the air.

One particular afternoon, after they walked in a companionable silence, Mr. Bell suggested that the rest upon a bench outside a church. As it was warm and he appeared fatigued, Meg agreed with alacrity. They sat watching a bird gather twigs and fly into a nearby tree, in all probability building a nest, when Mr. Bell suddenly asked her what her plans were for the future.

She looked at him blankly before she replied, "I guess we will return to Milton and continue with our life there. Father has said that he has no intention of settling elsewhere, while Milton is Mother's final resting place. He has his pupils and books, and I have my work at the clinic to keep me busy."

Mr. Bell took her hand in his. "That is no life for a clever woman such as you. Do you have no dreams for yourself?"

Meg smiled. "As a matter of fact, I should like to study to be a doctor."

Mr. Bell was shocked. "I've never heard of such a thing."

She laughingly replied, "You asked me if I had any dreams, not if they were realistic."

He smiled at her, acknowledging her point. "Still," he said musingly, "what is to stop you, besides the conventions of the time?"

"Are they not enough?" she asked him, raising her brows inquiringly.

"I suppose they would be difficult, but not insurmountable." He sat frowning at his hands. "Besides conventions, what is to keep you from becoming a doctor?"

"Money and proximity to a teaching hospital associated with a university, for a start." Meg replied evenly. "And the conventions of this time are quite formidable-do you believe Milton is ready for a woman doctor? I doubt it-despite the changes society has undergone this century, it is still a man's world, and I don't know if I want to tilt at this particular windmill." She smiled sadly at him. "It is only a dream, Mr. Bell. I could not leave my father to study in London, as I would have to do, and I would not ask him to come to London with me. As I just said, he is determined to remain in Milton."

No, she thought sadly, the only way I can become a doctor is to return to my own time. She saw that Mr. Bell was watching her with some concern, and she patted his hand consolingly. "Do not worry about me. I am content for the time being helping Doctor Donaldson with his clinic." She watched the bird swoop down again to pull some moss from a tuft under an oak tree before taking wing once more.

"Do you have no thoughts of a husband or family?" he asked.

"No, I do not," she responded briskly, standing up abruptly from the bench. "I have no desire to marry. Shall we continue our walk? Father will wonder where we have gone." She smoothed her skirts, and offered her hand to help him up.

Mr. Bell said nothing, but looked at her thoughtfully. He had suspected for quite some time that she cared for Mr. Thornton; the night of the Thornton's dinner party, he had watched her interactions with their host and had seen the way her eyes followed him and her smile lit her face when he approached or spoke to her. As for Thornton, he was transparent in his interest; the man practically wore his heart upon his sleeve, and his eyes followed her constantly. Mr. Bell thought wryly that whereas the Master of Marlborough Mills used to be consumed only by commerce and trade, never taking note of women, he now seemed quite smitten by one particular woman. He had expected to see their romance blossom, and was surprised to hear her speak of no desire to marry. However, her brusque tone warned him off the subject, and he kept his thoughts to himself. Perhaps her interest in medicine was stronger than her romantic interest in Thornton.

"Very well, my dear," he replied at last, taking her hand and rising from the bench. "Let us go see what your Father is about." He offered her his arm and she took it, and they retraced their steps back to his lodgings.

The following morning, when Meg and Dixon had set off to explore the shops in town, Mr. Bell said to his friend, "You know, Hale, your daughter Meg has found her way into my heart. What would you say if I were to tell you I plan to settle part of my fortune upon her on my death?"

Mr. Hale gazed at him affectionately. "I would say you are a good and generous friend," he responded promptly. His smile faded. "However, Adam, that reminds me of something I wish to speak to you about. With Maria's death, I am Meg's closest family remaining. Frederick is out of the country and in no position to care for her, even if he wanted to do so. And her aunt and cousin are world travelers, and seldom at home. If something should happen to me, would you watch over her? Be a friend to her and help her out should she ever need assistance?"

Mr. Bell reached over and patted his friend's arm. "Of course I will-I already think of her as a daughter."

Mr. Hale's smile broadened. "Thank you. You have no idea how that puts my mind to rest." He stretched in his comfortable chair, and gave a sigh of contentment. "Since I have come to visit you in Oxford, I have the strangest feeling that I have come home-isn't that odd?"

Mr. Bell returned his smile. "Not at all, dear boy. In fact, I think you should consider resettling here, you and your daughter."

Mr. Hale gave a noncommittal shrug. "We shall see," he replied quietly, not wanting to argue the point, and picked up his book once more.

********

The evening before the Hales planned to return to Milton, Mr. Bell managed to procure tickets to see Romeo and Juliet. Meg dressed carefully that night; she had a new gown that Dixon had made for her, and was determined to show Dixon how pleased she was with her efforts. Dixon had found the material on their arrival in Oxford, and with her diminished duties, had time on her hands to sew not only the gown, but a new morning dress. Meg enthused over the gown, which was a lovely piece of work in a warm shade of amber with yellow threads shot through the cloth. It made her skin glow, and set the color of her hair off to perfection, in Dixon's fond estimation. Meg was glad to have something befitting the theater to wear, and used a bit of her wages to purchase slippers and gloves.

She felt guilty spending money on finery, but Dixon told her not to be a goose. "You spend little enough on yourself, Miss Meg. It is time you had a bit of fun." As a surprise, Dixon had brought along Mrs. Hales' diamond necklace for Meg to wear, should the occasion arrive. Meg protested, but Dixon said in astonishment, "And who else should be wearing this necklace? It should be worn, so that you remember your mother and what a lovely woman she was."

As she dressed for the evening, Meg grew tearful at the thought of the woman who had been her mother for a short time. She wondered yet again where Margaret Hale was. You should be here wearing this necklace and accompanying your father to the theater, Meg thought in despair. Where are you? Do you know that your mother has died?

Mr. Bell admired Meg's appearance that night and paid her extravagant compliments so that she laughed and shook off her melancholy. Mr. Hale touched the necklace and gave her a sad smile. "Your mother would be very proud of you this evening, Meg. You have become a beautiful woman, in deeds as well as appearance." Meg blushed and hugged him tenderly.

As they entered the theater, Meg looked eagerly about at the crowds of people milling and surging around them. The women were dressed in beautiful gowns and jewels, and the men in dashing evening dress. There was a festive feeling in the air; the excitement of seeing a live performance lifted Meg's spirits and made her glad to be part of the throng.

As Mr. Bell placed a gentle hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the stairs and their box, Meg stopped abruptly as she spotted a tall, familiar form across the room. The man in a top hat had his back to her, but she knew it was Mr. Thornton. Her heart beat a tattoo-what was he doing in Oxford? A second glance showed her he was not alone-Mr. Latimer stood beside him, and Ann Latimer held his arm. Meg left Mr. Bell and moved like a sleepwalker toward him.

As if he felt the power of her eyes-as if he felt her presence and knew she was there-he turned and met her gaze. His eyes widened with surprise and pleasure, and without a word, he turned and left his companions to meet her halfway across the room.

"Miss Hale," he greeted her huskily. He thought he had never seen her look so beautiful before-she stole his breath away in her shimmering gown, diamonds winking at her neck. The gown and jewels were lovely, but she was by far lovelier.

"Good evening, Mr. Thornton," Meg said in a breathless tone. She held out her hand and he clasped it in his firm one. Once again, she experienced an electric thrill at his touch. She could feel her pulse fluttering in her throat, and lowered her eyes from his heated gaze. She thought he was the most handsome man she had ever met, in his long-tailed coat, black pants, and pristine shirt and waistcoat. "What brings you to Oxford?" she asked quietly.

He looked as if he had forgotten his purpose; in truth, being close to her again drove all rational thought from his mind. "I-I have some business in Oxford. I hope to find a new investor in the mill."

Her eyes flew to his. "Is Marlborough Mills in financial trouble?"

"Nothing we cannot ride out," he replied firmly. He had come to Oxford on Mr. Latimer's urging to approach several potential investors-he was in need of an infusion of cash. Marlborough Mills had not regained its former standing after the strike, and Mr. Latimer was hopeful that one or another of his colleagues might be persuaded to invest in the mill. Miss Latimer had expressed a wish to attend the theater, and Mr. Thornton and her father acquiesced.