Ch.5- Understanding

Hannah Thornton was extremely put-off by her sons incessant pacing that afternoon. She new Miss Hale had been to the mill. In fact, everyone in Milton knew it and the news was making it's way to London on the evening train. Mrs. Thornton thought several times of bringing it up but was afraid of what her son might say. Instead she tried a less direct tactic.

"John I hope you are not troubled by the closing of the mill. I'll have you know it is no matter to me whatsoever. I am quite happy to give up the house and go back to work in a small shop. The important thing is that we are together, and there is no one to stand in the way of that."

John sighed and walked over to her. It was no good to hide the truth from her when everyone in town could easily guess it.

"Mother you should know that even if there were someone else, we would still be together."

At this Mrs. Thornton threw her needlepoint onto the ground and walked over to the fire place. "You can't be serious John. So it's true then. You are considering marriage to that little strumpet just for the sake of business."

"Do not speak of her that way! Miss Hale is a respectable lady. Just because the dregs of society have fallen into false assumptions doesn't mean the lies are welcome in my house." He was fierce in his retort, confirming Hannah's suspicions that the addition of Miss Hale to their lives could only serve as a wedge between her and her beloved son.

John seethed for a while and continued his pacing around the room but eventually noticed that his mother had not returned from the fireplace. He sighed and walked closer to her once again. He did not know what he was considering, but he had to make her understand his position.

"Mother listen to me. It is true that Miss Hale came to speak to me today but she did not come to take advantage of my situation. She came asking me for help. Margaret is in a terrible situation. Few people believe in her virtue and her options in terms of restoring that reputation are limited. She came to me mother. She asked for my help. The fact that her fortune would restore the mill is inconsequential. So yes, I am considering marriage to Miss Hale but not for the sake of business. I am considering it because she needs me now, as I have always needed her."

Mrs. Thornton was not satisfied but she stopped the argument. The pair did not speak for the rest of the night and neither could be said to have a restful sleep.

Mr. Bell desperately wanted to discuss the matter of the mill office with Margaret but he could not find a break in her excited chatter about reopening the kitchen. He began to wonder if she was intentionally trying to bury the subject by keeping the conversation busy with other things. As they were walking to the kitchen to meet Mary he found his chance when she stopped talking for a moment as they passed near her old home in Crampton. He considered that it was probably cruel to interrupt the intentional moment of silence but he was quite desperate to engage her in the important matters at hand.

"Margaret my dear, you might consider that it is somewhat cruel to reopen this kitchen when we will only be detained in Milton for another fortnight...unless you have other arrangements in mind?"

Margaret swallowed. She knew the matter would be up for discussion but had hoped to avoid the topic at least until after the lunch. She knew that by "other arrangements" Mr. Bell was attempting to inquire after her own arrangements but Margaret pretended to misunderstand.

"Well I was hoping that we could work something out about that with Mary and Nicholas. Prehaps they could rent the kitchen from us...or we could make the continuing availability of it a condition of our new lease for Marlborough Mills."

"Margaret you know I meant..." Mr. Bell began, but he was too slow. She continued off into a discussion about the various ingredients to stew and Mary's peculiar way of chopping the potatoes and left no other opportunity for Mr. Bell to resurrect the previous conversation.

That day Mr. Thornton stepped outside for a walk to clear his head. It was not long before he found himself at the Crampton house. As he began to walk up the steps that had been hers he stopped short and laughed at himself. Margaret was not here. She was not here because he was a fool and if he persisted in it he would not be able to visit her in any portion of London.

Mr. Thornton thought about what he had said to her the day before and how it was probably hopeless, but he realized now that he had to try. With no idea what he would say he set off to speak to her. He tried to prepare a speech or an apology on the way there but nothing would come to his mind but her face.

On his way to the inn one of the men from the mill stopped him. "It's stew today Mr. Thornton, aren't ya comin'?"

"At the kitchen?" responded Thornton as his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Aye, Miss Hales come an' opened it right up," the worker replied as he rushed off towards the mill, nodding his farewell.

Thornton stood still for a few moments as a smile crept across his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small yellow flower. It was old and dry, pressed between the pages of his pocketbook. As he held it in his hand he could feel Margaret's touch on his arm in the mill, around his neck at the riot. Thornton tucked the treasure back into his suit jacket and turned around, heading towards Marlborough Mills. As he walked the ideas finally came to him of what he could say to her.

As Margaret served stew to another hungry mill worker she looked around the dining hall for the hundredth time. The buzz about the kitchen was circulating throughout Milton and the Thornton's must have noticed the bustle so close to their home. She was so caught up in her search that she did not notice the object of it standing before her until he cleared his throat to gain her attention.

"Mr. Thornton," Margaret blushed as she said his name. She was startled by his sudden appearance. "What brings you here?" she stammered. She had been looking for him for an hour only to realize she had nothing to say.

"Well I heard a young lady was hosting a feast for all the out of work men of Marlborough Mills. I suppose I just came for a meal," he replied with a half smile. He could not help but notice her cheeks grow pink. Perhaps he had not missed his chance after all.

"It looks as if I'm the last in line Miss Hale. Is there any chance that you will join me?"

Margaret smiled and then lowered her head to hide the emotion. With a graceful sweeping motion she poured herself a bowl of stew and quietly followed him to the least populated corner of the dining hall. The boisterous sounds of the men and their families had grown to a dull roar as many turned their attention to the awkward pair.

Mr. Bell noticed her, walking with him to an uninhabited portion of the dining hall. He was about to interfere but Mary gave him a look that reminded him to allow his goddaughter this privacy.

"I am glad you came." Margaret began as they sat down. "I hope you do not take offense...I know this was your venture." She had planned the lunch hoping he would come, but now felt embarrassed at being caught in the midst of something that belonged to him.

He did not respond directly to her comment, but his next words erased any fear that she had offended him.

"It seems that the mill is not the only thing which we both love."

She looked up at him with wide curious eyes. No smile graced her lips but her silence seemed to invite him to say more.

"Miss Hale I did not come here for a bowl of stew," as he spoke he continued to search her face for any sign that the course of conversation was leading to that same unhappy place it had led him so many times before.

"Miss Hale I do not want you to go to South America, and I do not want you to go to your brother Frederick, wherever he is. I have been thinking that perhaps we could be brought together by the things that we both love."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the flower. Despite being worn and pressed Margaret still recognized the distinctive shape of the petals. It was from Helstone. He held it out in the palm of his hand as an offering of to supplement the confession that was to follow.

."Even though you do not love me," he finished. John stared at her begging her in his mind to receive his late acceptance of her proposal. He could live with the loss of the mill, a sham marriage, an unrequited love. He could not live without her.

When she did not immediately respond Mr. Thornton's mind flooded with doubt. He wondered if confessing his feelings had been a mistake. Would she have accepted him if he had hidden his emotion as he did the day before?

When she finally spoke he was so absorbed in his own self doubts that he almost missed the words that would change his life forever "Mr. Thornton I...I thought it was you who did not love me."

"Margaret" without regard for propriety he uttered her Christian name in the presence of every worker in his mill. "Margaret surely you know that I have always..." his throat hung before the last words, and he looked at her for permission to go on.

Margaret reached out and delicately rested her palm in his, touching the petals of his Helstone flower. They both smiled and looked at one another with complete understanding for the first time.

A/N- So I had several other ideas for this story but the more I thought about it the more they seemed like a completely different fanfiction. It just seemed like they would both have to be incredibly dense not to work it out at this time, so this is the end. I hope you enjoyed it.