Chapter 19. Tweedledum and Tweedledee

Aunt Shaw looked stunned and exasperated. "What nonsense is this, Margaret? Get in the carriage-we must be off."

Meg shook her head vehemently. "I am not going, Aunt. I am staying in Milton. I will accompany you to the train station and explain my rationale to you there, if you like, but I am not getting on that train." She turned to Nicholas and Mary and smiled. "I shall be by later tonight to see you and explain everything." With that, she hopped into the carriage and set off down the street, leaving Nicholas and Mary to stare at each other in bewilderment.

"Do you think she'll convince her aunt?" Mary asked wonderingly.

Nicholas snorted. "Of course I do! My money is on our Meg, but I wouldn't want to be in that carriage with those two women!"

As Nicholas sagaciously prophesized, the atmosphere in the carriage was not pleasant, and the discussion was quite heated. Aunt Shaw was outraged at the idea of Meg remaining in Milton. "You cannot stay in Milton alone!" she exclaimed angrily. "Whatever are you thinking?"

"I will not be alone," Meg insisted calmly. "Dixon will live with me."

"A single woman, setting up house by herself? You will be an outcast from society!" her aunt insisted.

"What society, Aunt Shaw? I have no desire to be part of society," Meg explained in a cool, amused tone that aggravated her aunt further.

"What will you do with yourself?" she said in challenge.

"I will go on as I did before, working at the clinic and helping the poor," Meg replied promptly.

"Walking all about Milton at all hours of the day and night, with no one to watch over you," her aunt fretted. "I hardly recognize you, Margaret. You have grown to be quite independent and...and... revolutionary."

Once again, Meg felt the burden of living in this time and place rather than in the twentieth century. Oh, for the ease of her time, to come and go as she pleased and answer to no one. The war had changed many things for women, and it was time that things changed in the Milton of this time for this woman. "I am sorry that I am a grave disappointment to you, aunt, but I cannot go to London. I believe I belong in Milton, and would be miserable elsewhere."

Her aunt sat gazing at her, a puzzled look upon her face. "I do not understand you, Margaret. You were heartbroken to leave Helstone for Milton-I remember the letters you wrote Edith before your departure. What has happened to change all of that?"

Meg took one of her aunt's hands between her own and said earnestly, "I fell in love with the people here in Milton, aunt. Oh, not the manufacturers and the wealthy," she hastened to explain, guiltily thinking except for one, "but the working people. They are in such need of medical care and proper shelter and nutrition, as well as education and employment. I want to stay here and help them, aunt." For the time remaining to me here, she amended silently. "Please believe me when I say my life is full and happy."

Her aunt studied her before slumping back against the seat in defeat. "Very well, Margaret, I wash my hands of you."

The carriage pulled up to the train station, and her aunt said severely, "I suppose it is time for us to part." She speared Meg with a direct glance, and spoke in a gentler tone, "Should you ever need me, you know where I am. You are welcome to make your home with me. I loved your mother very much, and I love you, too, and I will always be there should you need me."

She smiled fleetingly before hurrying on, "You have a small inheritance that passes to you now that your mother is gone. Our father, Sir John Beresford, settled an amount on both of his daughters upon his death. It was this fund that provided the money for Maria's gowns and your clothing, as well as other things. I daresay your father forgot about this money, but Henry Lennox has managed this fund for your mother, and is willing to continue to manage it for you. I will instruct Henry to send you the funds quarterly. It is not much, but it will enable you to live comfortably in Crampton, if that is what you desire."

Meg's smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Thank you aunt, it is exactly what I desire. Thank you for all of your kindness to me." She reached across the seat and gave her aunt an affectionate hug and kiss.

"Margaret, please," her aunt said fretfully, pulling away and straightening her bonnet. But the gleam in her eye told Meg that she was pleased.

********

"Lord, Meg, if you could have seen her face," Nicholas laughed uproariously. "You standing on the side of the street declaring you was going nowhere!" He slapped his leg, clearly delighted that she had won her struggle and would remain in Milton. Meg sat in their small house in Princeton, feeding the Boucher baby porridge. His colic was gone, and he was a happy, sassy baby once more.

Meg had the grace to look sheepish. "I felt so sorry for her. I had to rush about the station and separate my trunks and luggage from hers, and find a porter to arrange transport of my belongings back to Crampton. Poor Aunt Shaw, I would not blame her if she did wash her hands of me!" She shifted the baby over her shoulder and gently patted its back as she laughed again. "If you think my aunt was surprised, you should have seen poor Dixon when I strolled into the house later that afternoon!"

Nicholas laughed again. "Well, I for one am quite relieved that you have stayed with us in Milton. I can't imagine how we would get on without you."

Meg felt the easy tears spring to her eyes. This town and its inhabitants had become such a part of her life, in such small ways, that she could not imagine leaving, although leave she must. She had been pondering the appearance of Clothilde, and had come to believe that the fortune teller had appeared not only to stop her from leaving town, but to indicate that it was time for her to go back to her own time. Mr. and Mrs. Hale were dead, the riot was long over, and Mr. Thornton appeared healthy and fine. She felt sick with longing for him, but remembered the conversation she had overheard between Mr. Bell and Mr. Latimer-Mr. Thornton was destined for Ann Latimer, to improve his standing in society and ensure Mr. Latimer's financial ties and backing.

No good to keep thinking about it, and not much use in prolonging my stay in Milton, she thought desolately. She must turn her mind to planning her departure. There were numerous small ends to tie up, but if she began now, she would be prepared in a fortnight to pass back through the mirror to modern-day Milton. Perhaps then I will discover what happened to Margaret Hale, she thought as she handed the baby back to Mary and wished her friends good-night.

******

Mr. Thornton had yet another meeting with Mr. Latimer to discuss financing for the mill. He dressed with care and set off early to leave ample time for his prompt arrival; he did not want to do anything to discourage Mr. Latimer from extending his loan.

Business at Marlborough Mills had not been flourishing before the strike, but had been adequate; with the strike, he had been set back several weeks and could not seem to recover. The price of cotton was depressed, while the cost of raw materials continued to climb. Without an infusion of cash, he did not know how he could continue to operate and make the payroll.

He thought of Watson's speculation. Fanny continued to urge him to invest, saying that he would earn back his investment ten times over. Mr. Thornton snorted derisively; what did Fanny know of investments? She parroted back what she heard come out of Watson's mouth. Fanny had no memory of the terrible, lean years between their father's death and his advancement in manufacturing; she was a child, and a spoiled and pampered one at that. She fancied herself delicate and sickly, and acted accordingly. His mother, for some unfathomable reason, tolerated this play-acting on Fanny's part until it had become ingrained in her behavior. It was too late to do anything about Fanny, but not too late to save Marlborough Mills.

His mind strayed as he thought of Meg; if she loved him and married him, how much sweeter his fight would be to save his mill. With her by his side, he could accomplish anything; his heart lightened and his step quickened at the thought. With her love and support, he would pull out all stops to make the mill a success. Long hours and hard work would be nothing if he knew that at the end of the day, she was waiting for him. He remembered his dream, of how she smiled and leaped up to greet him. He recalled the feel of her arms about him and her lips beneath his. Such a perfect love made life worth living. Without her, there is nothing but my work, he thought glumly. He thought of her living in London; it seemed impossible that she was gone and might never return. He felt as if his youth and hope had gone with her, leaving him nothing but the mill.

Mr. Latimer had agreed to meet him at his gentleman's club; the last thing Mr. Thornton had wanted to do was play a game of billiards or smoke cigars while so much hung in the balance, but he tamped down his impatience and agreed to meet for lunch.

The meeting did not go well. Mr. Latimer reported that he had exhausted all avenues of investment, except one. If Mr. Thornton would only consider investing in Mr. Watson's speculation, the money that resulted could more than make up for the losses suffered during the strike. Mr. Thornton had abruptly refused, and Mr. Latimer had shrugged, saying that, in that case, Thornton had better pray for money to fall from the skies.

He felt so weary and alone; there was no one with whom he could confide his troubles and burdens. Miss Hale, he thought desolately, I miss you so much. I wish with all my heart you would come back to Milton-and to me.

He left the club deep in thought and retraced his path to the mill. As he entered the gates, he heard someone call his name and saw Nicholas Higgins coming out of the doorway of the lunchroom.

"Master, will you have lunch with us today? It's stew."

Mr. Thornton shook his head, looking over at a wagon laden with goods and calculating the profit that would result. "I've already supped, Higgins, but thank you for the invitation," he replied absentmindedly.

Nicholas shook his head and heaved a gusty sigh. "That's a shame. My Mary is feeling unwell today and was not able to fix the mid-day meal, so Meg agreed to cook and serve in her place." He glanced innocently at Mr. Thornton, but there was a bright glint in his eye.

Mr. Thornton's head snapped around from his contemplation of the mill yard. His face was lax with shock. "Miss Hale is here? I thought she had gone to London."

Nicholas nodded, "She's here. It seems she changed her mind." He smiled as Mr. Thornton pushed past him into the lunchroom.

Meg stood behind the cook stove, a large apron tied about her waist. He watched her ladle stew into bowls and carry them over to a table, where she placed them before two hands. The men smiled and thanked her and she smiled in return. As she moved back to the stove, she spotted Mr. Thornton and a brilliant smile crossed her face. Mr. Thornton felt his heart pound erratically-she was happy to see him! Just as quickly, he watched the smile disappear, as if she recalled something that displeased or distressed her.

He moved toward her, and she offered him her hand.

"Hello, Mr. Thornton. Would you like something to eat?" she asked, her eyes searching his face. She thought he looked tired and discouraged, and longed to comfort him in the one way she would allow herself-by feeding him. She had made up her mind that she was not the one for him, and that it would be best for both of them to keep her distance.

"No, thank you, I have dined," he said in a distracted voice. "Miss Hale, I thought you had gone to London with your aunt," he said in a bemused tone, as his eyes roamed her beloved face.

"I changed my mind," she replied shortly. "I have decided to remain in Milton-for the time being."

"Just for the time being?" he asked intently. Why will she not meet my gaze, he wondered sadly.

She dropped her eyes, and fussed with her apron. "Yes, until I decide what I should do next." Several more hands entered the room, and she excused herself and moved to serve them.

Mr. Thornton watched her in confusion. She was friendly, but much more distant than she had been in the past. He wondered if he had done something to offend her. In Oxford, he could have sworn that she was overjoyed to see him, as he had been to see her. He had felt a surge of pure joy just now when he spotted her standing in the lunchroom, and could have sworn he saw delight on her face when she espied him. However, she had quickly masked her delight with polite friendliness. He fretted over what he could have done to bring about this change.

Meg took her time serving luncheon to the new arrivals and fussed about the stove, hoping he would not stay. It hurt to be with him knowing that he was destined for someone else and that she must leave him soon. When Nicholas had asked if she could help out in the lunchroom that day, her heart had sunk at the thought that she might have to face Mr. Thornton again. The less she saw of him before she left, the easier it would be for him-and for her, she hoped.

She heard him step up behind her, and she applied herself with vigor to cleaning the stovetop. After a moment, she heard him walk out of the lunchroom, and she closed her eyes tightly against the pain and grief. She did what she thought she must, but why must it hurt so badly?

Luncheon was soon over and Nicholas came in to thank her for her assistance. As she was tying her bonnet, he asked, "Did you say anything to upset Mr. Thornton?"

She looked at him guardedly. "No, why do you ask?"

Nicholas' expression was gloomy. "Judging from the dark look on his face, I suppose he did not have good news from his banker."

"Why, what is the problem, Nicholas," Meg asked, leaving off fussing with the strings of her bonnet.

Nicholas lowered his voice. "I understand from some of the other hands that Thornton is having financial difficulties. Word on the floor is that he is having problems paying for material and covering the payroll."

Meg felt sick with apprehension. He had told her in Oxford that all was well. "Is it serious?" she asked.

Nicholas shrugged. "There has been some talk of shutting the mill."

Meg covered her mouth with her hand in shock as she gasped, "Oh, no! I had no idea it was that bad! Is there nothing Mr. Latimer can do for Mr. Thornton?"

He shook his head. "I'm guessing he came from seeing Latimer now, and he looked mighty grim."

Meg thought quickly. "I wonder if the other mill owners might be willing to help?'

"Them bunch of sharks?" Nicholas snorted. "They'd sooner see him go under."

"What about Doctor Donaldson or-or Mr. Bell? I could ask them if they might be willing to provide a loan to Mr. Thornton. Mr. Bell, after all, owns Marlborough Mills. It would be in his best interest to keep the entire enterprise afloat," Meg said eagerly.

Nicholas looked shrewdly at her. "If I were you, Meg, I'd see what I could do to convince both of 'em. Now, I best get back to work." Tipping his cap to her, he set off for the mill, leaving her with plenty to ponder.

********

"I was right and you were wrong!" Fanny Watson exclaimed in exultation. It was true, her brother thought, as he sat on the settee in the parlor, unable to look at his sister. Watson's speculation was a brilliant success-and he was ruined. Fanny has the right to gloat, he thought dully.

"If you had thrown your lot in with Watson, you would now have money to do as you wished. As it is, everyone is saying you are a failure, and will have to shutter the mill. Well? What do you have to say?" she demanded as she came around the end of the settee and stood before him.

He stood. "I must go to the office and determine what to do next," he replied quietly. Fanny, totally confused at his quiet sadness, could think of nothing more to say, and flounced from the room.

Hannah Thornton laid a hand on her son's arm. "How bad is it?" she asked, her eyes focused on her son's sad face.

"We will have to move, Mother. I am sorry," he said in a defeated voice.

Mrs. Thornton scoffed, "I don't care about the house-I care about you. We will start over again, John. You will recover, I know you will."

He gave a fleeting smile. "It's just you and me again, Mother," he replied, and hugged her to him as she clasped her arms about his waist. I am glad I did not ask Miss Hale to marry me, he thought. It makes things much simpler, and I will not drag her down with me. But his heart rebelled as he thought of the comfort she would be to him at such a time. How he longed to be able to tell her his troubles, to lay his aching head on her breast and feel her cool hands stroke his forehead as she whispered that all would come out all right, as long as they were together. He shut his eyes tightly at the pain of his loss-the loss of the mill was nothing to the loss of his love.

After he and his mother had a long discussion about what they needed to do to prepare for their move and their current finances, Mr. Thornton stood up and said, "I must go over to the office. We will need to do an inventory of the equipment and begin to reconcile the books."

"Oh, John, surely that can wait!" his mother exclaimed impatiently.

"No time like the present, Mother. What else have I to do with my idle time?" He kissed her tenderly, and left the house.

As he strode across the mill yard, Nicholas Higgins called out to him and came running over. He was obviously on a break, and had been watching for the master's approach. Mr. Thornton looked inquiringly at Higgins.

"Master," Nicholas asked in a hesitant voice, "Is it true? The mill will have to close?"

Mr. Thornton sighed and nodded, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "Yes, it is true. There is enough money to cover payroll for another week, but unless a miracle occurs, we will be forced to shut down." He smiled ironically. "You will no longer have to call me Master, Higgins."

Nicholas slumped against a cart. "Then Meg wasn't able to pull it off," he said sadly.

Mr. Thornton glanced up. "Meg-do you mean Miss Hale knows?"

"Yes, I told her I suspected that the mill were in trouble. She were very upset, Master. I know she spoke to Doctor Donaldson and Mr. Bell to see if they might provide loans to help you keep the mill open."

Mr. Thornton felt his heart leap. She was concerned about his fate.

"Is Miss Hale to remain in Milton, Higgins?" he asked hopefully.

"It appears she means to settle here. I thought she might go to Spain, to join her brother, but that doesn't seem likely."

Mr. Thornton was surprised to hear that Higgins knew of the existence of this brother. "Has she spoken to you about her brother?" he asked cautiously.

"No, but I knew he were over when the mother were dying." Higgins explained hastily, "My Mary worked for them, you know, and she was let in on the secret when Mr. Fred was here. She told me, but I have not told a soul."

Mr. Thornton froze, staring at Higgins. "Her brother was here when Mrs. Hale was dying?" he asked slowly.