“I was not tired. So, I sat to see you home again,” she replied casually, bending over her work in pretense of being long engaged thus. “The Hales are well?”
“Yes.”
She turned instantly to examine him, wholly unprepared for such a brief, deflated reply.
“Only, it seems Miss Hale has befriended a mill worker, and has taken to heart all manner of accusations against me,” he explained in response to his mother’s searching gaze.
Her mother’s pride rebelled against the girl at once. “Well! What could she truly understand of your responsibilities? Those from the South are too swift to disparage those who lead industry and will listen to anyone but the masters themselves!” Her outburst cleared her anxieties, her heart lightening to find her place in her son’s affections unmoved.
“It’s best you discover what Miss Hale is predisposed to think of you—“
“Please.” He raised his hand to stop her. “I don’t wish to hear any more about it. I have had enough for tonight.” He smiledweakly at her in apology for his curtness. She could not know how deeply her remarks cut him.
“Good night, Mother,” he said gently, before turning to go upstairs, leaving his mother to watch him disappear into the shadows.
Margaret lay in her bed in the dark, a trace of light from the window allowing her to discern only the blackened shape of her footboard.
She had lain there for perhaps an hour, unable to stop her mind from turning over all that had been said, and especially what had not been said. She recalled every tone of his voice and every expression of pleasure and discomfiture upon his face.
She pondered most of all over how she had caused him pain and chastised herself for feeling pangs of guilt. Why should she care about how her words affected him? She did not owe him any loyalty or particular concern, she reasoned in rebellion. It was entirely his fault if he expected anything from her.
She told herself she was glad to have discovered the disparity in their views of the world so early in their acquaintance. It clearly indicated that she had been correct all along to dismiss any thought of accepting his offer to become his wife.
Chapter fifteen
The sodden ground and gloomy skies did naught to lift Mr. Thornton’s mood the following morning. He threw his mind into work and was short with his words. It was nothing out of the ordinary to see the Master with a stern face and quick step. However, the underlying cause of such demeanor was entirely different on this day.
Feeling keenly Miss Hale’s disapproval, he was determined to dismiss this cantankerous disturbance to his peace of mind and carried on a mental defense of his principles, knowing full well that Miss Hale could have no understanding of the factors over which he had no control. Nor did she comprehend the reason he must act as an autocrat in his position. There was no other way.
However, all his justifications offered no salve to the wound, which still festered from her verbal blows at his moral stance.
When Williams entered his office, he asked about a name that kept troubling him.
“Do you know anything about the Higgins family? A mill worker—I’m not certain at which mill.”
Williams thought for a moment. “Higgins?” Then his brow creased as it crossed his mind. “I believe Higgins is one those Union fellows, a rabble rouser. Not one of ours, though. Is there some trouble?” he asked.
“No,” the Master answered, letting out a low sigh. “I’ve only just recently heard of him. I was only curious.”
“Best to watch out for that kind. They’ll be up to no good, and that’s for certain,” Williams replied.
Mr. Thornton gave him a nod that was at once a reply and a dismissal.
Left alone, he sank his forehead into his hands. How was it possible Miss Hale befriended not just a common hand, but a man bound to promote the most incendiary claims against him?
Margaret longed to get out of the house and go see Bessy Higgins. She wished to hear more about Bessy’s life and what her father would say about the fight between masters and men. But her mother was feeling ill that day and for a few days afterwards, so Margaret dropped her own wishes to be available to attend to her mother’s.
She did not mind spending this time with her mother, as she had spent so many years apart from her parents in London, seeing her mother only in the summer. Now, she had the opportunity to draw closer to her mother, as she had longed to do.
On one of these occasions, she had the courage to ask her mother about her brother, Frederick. It was something they never spoke about, and Frederick had left for the Navy when she was only about nine years of age. She had never understood exactly what had happened that kept him from returning to England.
“Frederick?” Mrs. Hale said the name with a tremor of sorrow.
“Yes, mamma. I was in London at the time it all happened and was perhaps too young to be told. I never knew what took place. If it won’t pain you overmuch to tell me,” Margaret pleaded.
“No, I shall have no shame in talking about my boy. Fetch me the letters from my bureau just there,” Mrs. Hale directed, pointing to a lower drawer. She untied the ribbon that held the stack of letters and began to tell her daughter about her brother’s exile from England.
“You see, it all started with an unfortunate assignment to a ship that was captained by a rival of his, a cruel young man, Reid was his name, who never liked Frederick. This Captain Reid made an impossible order to his men to manage the ropes high upon the masts in which the last man at his task would get a flogging. Attempting to avoid this punishment, a young man made a desperate leap to the next mast, but fell and later died.”
