North & South: A Continutation
folder
M through R › North and South (BBC)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
11,421
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › North and South (BBC)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
11,421
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Elizabeth Gaskell's or the 2004 BBC adaptation of North and South and I make no money from this fanfiction.
Chapter 9
Chapter 8 – Mother Thornton For all the pleasantries the weekend had afforded both John and Margaret, Monday morning hadn’t come soon enough as far as the cold shoulder of the brooding matriarch was concerned. Dressed once again, in her customary black silk, Hannah Thornton arrived in the factory just as the clock struck 11.00 am. Three sets of bewildered eyes turned her way as her skirts swished across the floorboards. If anything was going to be decided about the running of the factory there was no way that she wasn’t going to have her opinion voiced. Had it only been a meeting between John and Nicholas Higgins then maybe Mrs Thornton could’ve let it go but seeing as Margaret was also involved Hannah felt that she had a right to know what was to become of her own future. The ‘good mornings’ over with, she turned her full attention to the matter in hand. “So, John, I take it that there will be no more talk of unions and strikes by Mr Higgins here then if he is to be the new overseer?” “Mother, Margaret and I …” “Oh, this was Margaret’s decision was it? To bring in a dissenter at the helm?” “No, mother, listen to me.” “After all, as overseer wouldn’t Mr Higgins be the perfect instigator of reckless staff behaviour and have the employees believe that they can get away with anything they like?”
“Mrs Thornton, I respect your son …” “Do you Mr Higgins?” Her eyes flashed towards him and then Margaret, “it wasn’t a long time ago that your strong words had the staff rioting and throwing stones at my son.” “I lost one of my daughter’s, Mrs Thornton, to these mills; I think I have every right to speak out. My Bessie may have only been just another employee to you but to me,” his voice softened a little when he noticed a touch of remorse in the older woman’s eyes, “Marlborough was one of the only mills that had the wheel, I moved my daughter here because I realised that even though Thornton could be the overbearing master he still cared about his staff and that it was the best I could do for her. She could still work for the time being and the illness that she had developed whilst at Hampers would be alleviated here a little. I’ve accepted the post of overseer here because I trust and respect both Thornton and Miss Hale to make sure that this time around the mill will be run with the very best of intentions towards everyone, including you.” “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Higgins.” “Think nothing of it. It would’ve only happened sooner had Thornton not allowed her to come and work here in the first place and for that I thank you both.” “And now I understand that you have other children in your care apart from your one remaining daughter?” “Yes, Ma’am. Boucher’s six children, the eldest not yet old enough to work.” “And he won’t yet, if I have my way,” John pointed out. He watched his mother’s eyebrows arch. “Mother, he’s a bright child, he deserves an education.” “And who will provide him with this education?” Hannah enquired. Margaret stepped forward, “I will. I have every intention of turning one of the outhouses into a school room, another into a nursery, for a small sum each week we can provide these services to the workers families and in return they will be much more likely to work hard for us.” “Miss Hale, with respect, you’re living in a dream.” “Mother?” John warned. “We’re in business to make a profit, John. How do you expect the mill to do that if half of the money earned is being spent on teachers and nurse maids? Your money won’t last long, Miss Hale, if you keep spending it as you intend to.” “The dining room was a great success, mother. These other ideas will be too, as well as sick pay.” “Sick pay? Is that another of Miss Hale’s ideas?” “No, mother, its mine!” John’s voice reverberated around the quietened loom room. A silenced Hannah Thornton mulled over what she had just heard, her eyes searching those of the three people she was surrounded with. She shook her head, “this is worse than mere speculation, John. This is financial suicide.” “Then let it be!” Margaret cried out, “it is, after all, my money.” “Don’t we know it? And what, Miss Hale, would you and my son live on if you lost every last penny of what was given to you?” Margaret closed her eyes briefly, her lashes brimming with unshed tears. “Love, Mrs Thornton. I could live in a hovel as long as John was with me, loving me.” She felt him move closer to her, his hands gently caressing her arms and shoulders. One of her hands instinctively covered one of his. “My place is with John, wherever life takes us. The money and land that Mr Bell gave to me was substantial. Part of this fortune will be set aside so that John and I, and our family, can live well; and our family, Mrs Thornton, will always include you. As long as there is breath in my body I will endeavour to make sure that we are never in need of anything, that there is always food on our table and clothes upon our backs.” “And the rest of your money?” Hannah wasn’t going to let this rest just yet. “Mother, its Margaret’s money to do with as she sees fit.” Margaret turned to John, reaching up and gently touching his lips with her fingers, “its alright, John.” She turned back around, “my total wealth stands at just over £30,000. A little more from the estate will be due to me once Mr Bell … well, when he is gone, but all in all the sum as it now stands is more than enough to keep us all in a life that befits us. However, if I had decided not to invest any money into the mill then I would have a building here with a rapidly decreasing value as it was not being employed to manufacture as originally intended. “It is in the best interests of not only the family but also the local economy that this mill starts up again, employing local people as well as giving their families the opportunity to make their own lives better. Surely you can see that by educating our current staff and future employees, they will be able to help us grow into one of the biggest and best mills in the world. We will be able to invest into the future of Marlborough Mill by increasing our current markets; by developing further what we already have here and from embracing new technologies as they become available to us. We can’t do that if we sit on our laurels and expect it to just happen, we can only move forward by learning from mistakes made in the past and one of the best ways to do that is by giving the workers something to work for. If they are receiving benefits by being employed by us, don’t you think they’ll be more than willing to help us in our endeavours?” Margaret looked from face to face, all as astonished as she was from the speech she had just made. Perhaps she did have a head for business after all. It was Nicholas that broke the silence, “you’re really going to have your work cut out with this one, Thornton,” he teased whilst smiling at Margaret. “I know,” John’s arms finding their way around her waist and staying there even with the disapproving looks from his mother, “even I wasn’t aware how intelligent and thoughtful my little angel was.” Margaret blushed. Mrs Thornton smiled, for all the people she had known in her long life no one had stood up to her as Miss Hale had done and with such passion too. She stood, her hands clasped together in front of her, “now I understand you. Now I understand what it was for you to stand in front of John and take that blow to the head.” Nicholas looked over to Margaret, “that were you?” “Yes, Nicholas. Boucher hit me with a stone as I tried my best to shield John from the rioters. I had been the one to put him in the way of danger, I had to be his saviour too.” “And what a saviour you turned out to be, my Margaret.” John said, she felt him smile against her head as his words were whispered into her hair. “Thank you, Miss Hale. Margaret.” Hannah Thornton turned on her heel and strode towards the entrance of the room. “Mrs Thornton?” Margaret called after her, prising herself from John’s grip and following the older woman, “mother?” Her affectionate tone nearly lost within the echo of Hannah Thornton’s retreating steps, but she stopped upon hearing it and turned around to meet Margaret’s gaze. They shared a smile, “you’ll do.” Hannah said, nodding her head. “I couldn’t have parted with him to anyone less worthy. Keep her safe, John, she’ll look after you.” And then she was gone. Margaret turned back to the two men, “does that mean …” unable to finish her sentence she looked at John for an answer. “She likes you, yes.” John nodded. “She’s finally accepted you as part of this family.” .oOo. It was later that afternoon, as Margaret sat in the walled garden reading her book, that the beginnings of a friendship between daughter and mother in law to be, were cemented. Looking up from the pages, Margaret noticed that Mrs Thornton was making her way towards her with a piece of fine ivory cotton in one hand. “Good afternoon, Mrs Thornton,” Margaret politely said. “Back to formalities are we?” A smile touched her lips. “I suppose I should expect that after the way I’ve treated you, Margaret. For which I must apologise.” Margaret’s confused expression echoed her thoughts, “apology accepted.” “I rather think it isn’t, not yet anyway. I’ve been cruel and callous to you, unaffectionate. I can see why John loves you so dearly. I hope that you will love me too, in time.” “Mrs Thornton …” “Margaret, please, mother or Hannah will do, whichever you feel more comfortable with.” “Hannah, all I’ve ever wanted to do is make you understand how much I love John.” “I know. A lot can be said for a marriage based on such a mutual feeling of adoration. Unlike that of my daughter.” “You don’t suspect Fanny marrying Wilson was for love?” “No, I do not, Margaret. Fanny is very materialistic. Heaven knows I tried to raise my children without that streak, I managed it with the one but sadly not the other. Even John’s good sense never rubbed off on her.” “Be rest assured that I will do my best with your grandchildren.” “You are sensible, Margaret so I do not doubt it; you have experienced a life without material wealth and know what it is to be brought up by parents that evidently not only loved one another but bestowed that love onto you. As they did on your brother also.” “Yes, we were very lucky. My mother and father married for love, as did my brother and now so will I, I knew that I would never be truly happy unless I was able to love and respect my partner and have it so ardently returned.” “John is lucky to have found you, I am glad of it.” “Even if our path was a little rocky?” “Yes. I was rash with my initial judgement of you and never changed it. I only wish I had seen the change in you that John had seen, rather than fixing my ideas of your character and imagining that you were still the young, insolent woman that I had encountered on our first meeting. You only knew what it was to live in the south, I should’ve helped you understand what it was to be in Milton society instead of censuring you. And when your mother asked me to be a friend to you, I should’ve agreed to it. Maybe then I would have understood the woman that my son fell in love with sooner.” “Hannah.” Margaret stopped taking Hannah’s hands into her own, “mother, if there is anyone at fault then it is me. I was quick to judge and slow to learn, the south was my paradise, I had been brought to hell. I didn’t know what it was to live in a world of different customs and ideas. As Nicholas rightly informed me, I was the foreigner, and should have taken the time to notice and embrace that, but, at first, it was too much for me. As I learnt Milton ways I realised that, on reflection, John was an excellent master and a kind soul. He has a temper, I know, and one I never wish to personally see, but I now realise why he did what he did to that man the first time I saw him. And I know that John has learnt from me that it wasn’t necessarily the right course of action to take. We’ve both learned to compromise and in so doing learned to love each other.” Hannah smiled, “yes.” They sat in companionable silence for a short time taking the tea that Jane had brought out to them. “What do you have there, mother?” Margaret asked, nodding towards the fabric still in Hannah’s hand. “Oh, I came to ask you how you’d like your initials on your new linen?” “How did you do them before? I’m not a great needlewoman, so any suggestions you have would be gratefully received.” “Perhaps, one of these days I can teach you.” “I’d like that very much.” “Then it’s set. I’d like to try and intertwine the J & M together, maybe like two dancing ribbons?” Margaret nodded, “that sounds perfect. I think you should know, I ordered the blue silk.” “For your wedding dress?” Margaret nodded, “I thought you might.” “Are you very angry?” “Margaret, no. It’s your day, and I’m sure you have your reasons for choosing that fabric. I’m glad actually. Glad that you’re not afraid to be your own person with your own ideas. You and John will be very successful together. He needs a strong woman by his side, not some simpering idiot that agrees with everything he says. He needs someone that will challenge him, make him sit up and think, be his equal. And I have no doubt that you are that woman.” “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you so horrid to me the day we went to the dressmakers?” “As you know, at first I didn’t think you were worthy of him. Then, when you were talking about the blue fabric, I knew that you were. But I couldn’t stop myself, I had to keep up the pretence, had to make sure it just wasn’t one occasion. I’m sorry.” “It’s alright. At least we can be friends now.” “Yes, so I hope my next little surprise will be welcome. Come with me.” Hannah stood, holding her hand out for Margaret to take. They threaded their way towards the house, Margaret following Hannah up the stairs into the room that had firmly become Margaret’s own. In the centre of the room was a rosewood chest inlaid with mother of purl butterfly’s and flowers. “Take a look inside.” Margaret knelt in front of the chest, taking the handle to the lid and opening it up. Just under the lid were three trays, each with an array of items. “My trousseau?” Margaret looked up expectantly. Hannah nodded, “yes, Margaret. I went back to the dressmakers the following day. I wanted to make sure that you had at least something to start with. Imagine my surprise when, after speaking with Mr Stevens, I found out that John had already secured your trousseau for you. I assisted in the selection, there are a few more things to come but I hope you’ll like what is in there so far.” “And the chest?” “It contained my trousseau when I married John’s father.” Margaret got to her feet and slung her arms around the unsuspecting Hannah. “Thank you, mother. I shall treasure it.” Hannah hugged back, “you haven’t seen it all.” They let go of one another, “come, take a look with me.” Hannah urged. Together they pulled out the top trays containing stockings, lace collars, gloves and jewellery. Underneath were hidden a couple of richly decorated corsets and under garments, as well as petticoats and a beautiful antique lace veil that had been Hannah’s. “You have your something old now, do you like it?” “It’s beautiful,” Margaret said, handling the delicate lace carefully. “Thank you.” “It’s a pleasure.” Hannah remarked. She pulled out some carefully folded tissue paper and laid it on the bed, “this is special, Margaret. This is something that I insisted upon.” She carefully opened up the tissue revealing a hint of lace and ribbon. “I know this may be a little forward thinking, Margaret, but I was sure that you would like it.” Pulling the fabric away from the tissue she moved over towards the full length mirror inviting Margaret to stand in front of it. Hannah held the garment up in front of Margaret. “Not a traditional night dress but something for the first night of your marriage.” Margaret’s eyes twinkled with the thoughts running through her head at that precise moment. Knowing that John would love seeing the wide neckline that would allow him a generous sight of her shoulders and décolletage, not to mention her arms and a sizeable proportion of her lower legs. Definitely not a traditional night dress but fitting for a new bride none-the-less. “Thank you.” Hannah’s smile was genuine, “I’ve also asked if I can stay with Fanny for a few weeks after your wedding. Don’t want to be in the way, so to speak.” “You wouldn’t be,” Margaret protested. “I would be. My minds made up, let me do this for both of you.” Hannah went to leave Margaret with her new gifts. “Perhaps you’d like to try it on?” She said before leaving Margaret to her solitude. It was too much of an invitation to ignore. As quickly as she were able, Margaret managed to take off her dress and petticoats before putting the night dress on. But to her slight disappointment she was unable to imagine what it would look like for her new husband with the layers of underwear her body was still robed within. Undoing the laces of her corset she quickly removed everything else that she was wearing, catching a glimpse of her now naked body in the mirror. Having never really looked at herself before she was at a loss to see what it was John would find so alluring about her. Her hands travelled slowly over her breasts, an unfamiliar arousal peaking her nipples as a finger tentatively ran over each centre. She froze momentarily, watching the nub pucker and harden before her very eyes, her orbs wide with growing anticipation. Biting her lip, she looked at herself once more in the mirror, her hands now searching over her waist, hips and fleshy bottom. She allowed one hand to trace over the small lump of her belly whilst the other felt over her mound and down towards her centre. She could feel a pulse in her groin, one finger exploring through the folds, feeling the silky wetness within. She moaned involuntarily, was this how good it would feel with John? A short rap on the door brought her back to her senses. “Margaret?” John asked from the other side of the closed door. “Just a minute,” she shouted back, managing to grab at the nightdress and pull it over her naked frame. “You may come in, John.” John opened the door, a look of amazement on his face as he noticed what Margaret was wearing, closing the door behind him quickly for the sake of propriety. He visibly gulped, his wide eyes taking in every last detail as she stood before the window, her body a silhouette through the thin cotton. “Is that new?” She nodded, “your mother had it made for me, for our wedding night, I thought I’d try it on.” “You look beautiful,” he breathed, closing his eyes to the vision momentarily, “I only wish I hadn’t seen you wearing it now.” “Has it spoilt the surprise?” “Yes,” he said without thinking, then shook his head, “no, Margaret. It’s just I don’t know how I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you for another few weeks.” She looked at him expectantly. “I can see that you’ve nothing on under that shift. I’m trying to be a gentleman but all I want to do is make you mine.” “In a couple of weeks ...” He moved towards her, his hands finding their way to her bare shoulders, “in a couple of weeks, Margaret. Yes.” He moved her to stand in front of him, both now looking into the mirror, his hands tracing up her arms and over her chest, his fingers finding their way just beneath the cotton neckline to skim over the tops of her breasts. She shuddered slightly, closing her eyes to the new sensations she was feeling within her and leaning back against him for support. Feeling his mouth on her neck and shoulder gently kissing her delicate skin, she allowed her head to fall back giving him more access. He stopped suddenly, their desire glazed eyes meeting in the glass pane before them. “We shouldn’t be doing this yet.” “Why not?” Margaret asked innocently. “Margaret, this is for a man and his wife. I will not bring shame on you by deflowering you before you take my name.” She moved away from him. “I see.” Rejected and hurt she began to pick up her earlier discarded clothing. “I suppose I’d best get dressed for dinner.” John moved towards the door. “I’ll call for Jane to help you with your corset.” “No, John, please.” She called from behind the screen. “I’d prefer it if you would do it.” “I can’t, my love. It wouldn’t be right.” She stepped from behind the screen, now clothed in her undergarments, her face awash with tears, “and will you continue to say it won’t be right after we’re married?” “Oh, Margaret.” He went to her, his hands wiping away at her tear soaked cheeks. “You really have no idea what you do to me.” “Then tell me what it is that I do to you. I want to know.” She asked, indicating for him to help pull the ties, he did as he was bid. “You keep saying that you don’t want to frighten me, but all you keep doing is stop any intimacy we share and leave me disappointed because I don’t understand what I’m feeling. You won’t even kiss me properly.” He watched as she secured her petticoats in place, “we shouldn’t be talking like this.” She selected a dress for dinner, asking him to help her with the buttons. “As I was a minister’s daughter I would agree with you, but as a woman in love I don’t.” “Do you really understand what it is for two people to show how much they love one another?” “Of course, they have a child together.” “No, Margaret, any man and woman that lie together can have a child. Do you know how that child is created?” “Edith told me that the man become’s excited.” John smiled, “become’s excited. Did she say how?” “Well, she said he grows.” “Where?” Margaret looked down to her clasped hands. “I don’t know where.” She whispered. He brought her towards him, his hand at her chin bringing her to face him. “Every time I kiss you, I want more of you. Every time, I hold you or touch your soft skin, I get excited. I grow.” He took hold of one of her hands and placed it over his groin. “Can you feel how excited I am?” Margaret coloured but continued to allow her hand to move over the hard, long, thick object beneath the dark fabric of his trousers. “This is how a man grows?” John nodded, “please, little one, stop what you’re doing.” She did, withdrawing her hand away from him allowing him the time and space he needed to calm himself. “You are waking up to new sensations, the dream you told me about the other night made me realise that. But it will be so much better when it’s real for us. Do you know anything of how we become one?” She shook her head. “When we are in the throes of passion, when I make you mine, we have to join together, I fit inside you. Do you understand?” “I’m not sure,” she said. John rested his hand over her centre, even through the layers of clothing she responded to him. “When the time is right, I will fit inside of you here.” “Your excitement will fit inside of me?” “Yes, but only when the time is right.” His hand shifted back to her face, “I want to love you and create our children with you, Margaret, but only when the time is right.” “Thank you, John, for helping me to understand a little more.” She reached up to caress a cheek before allowing her lips to find his. “And just to let you know, I’m not frightened, I never will be of you. We’ll fit together perfectly.”