Milton Belle
folder
M through R › North and South (BBC)
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,067
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
M through R › North and South (BBC)
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,067
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Milton Belle
After watching North and South for the twiddidly umptieth time, and not the last by along way, I got a fanfic idea based loosely on the story.
Here it is. The first 3 chapters are PG13 but after that I'll 'goose it up a little'.
THE MILTON BELLE.
The Rev. and Mrs Richard Hale and their son Frederick, kissed their little daughter and sister Margaret goodbye and saw her into the train.
'It won't be for long darling, be brave and God bless you'. Maria Hale tried not to let her voice tremble. This was for her child's safety.
The village of Helstone in Hampshire was in the grip of a scarlet fever epidemic. Rev Hale took his duties as a spiritual leader seriously, and expected his family to do likewise. Helping the parish in such times was part of these duties. On this occasion he had felt that at 10 years old Margaret should not be subjected to the danger of this terrible disease, although she had said she could be brave like him, and he admired her for it.
She was being sent to her only other relatives. Maria's brother' James Latimer, who now lived close to the northern mill town of Milton. He worked for a bank there, dealing with the money of the minority of men growing rich on the new cotton industry.
The Latimers were an upper middle class London family, who had been scandalised when their daughter Maria fell in love with a simple country parson and married him. Her brother had only agreed to take her daughter, on the understanding that it was a short visit. His beloved ( and spoiled with it)
daughter Ann must not have her reputation and future marriage prospects ruined by association.
Compared with the domestic warmth of her own home, Margaret found the Latimer house cold and forbidding, and her reception was cool at best.
'Never mind Margaret,' she told herself. 'It's only for a few weeks. It's an adventure'.
Sadly Margaret was wrong. 3 weeks into her stay, her uncle called her in to his study. His demeanour suggesting that he found all this a burden. With terrible coldness, he informed her that her parents and brother had all contracted scarlet fever and were now dead.
He was to be her guardian, but she needn't expect to be kept for nothing ( Rev Hale had left very little).
So it was that Margaret Hale found herself put to work as a servant in her relatives' house.
11 YEARS LATER.
It was wash day at the Latimer house. 2 maids Maggie Hale and Bess Higgins, (the daughter of the Latimer's Gardener, Nicholas Higgins, who had some modest local fame, as the man who had propagated a new rose called the Milton Belle) were working the heavy mangle, before taking the clothes to hang out.
It was a warm spring day with a gentle breeze, so the washing should dry well.
The below stairs gossip of today was the visitor who had been to see Latimer.
John Thornton the new master at Marlborough mill. He was reputed to be very handsome, so there had been lots of lurking in corners by young women hoping to catch a glimpse. The consensus of opinion was that reputation had short changed him.
Now Bess and Maggie were chatting. 'Most of the un married women in Milton 'll be after 'im soon', predicted Bess. 'Madam Ann is already casting eyes at 'im.'
She put a hand on Maggie's arm, 'by rights you should be able to go after'im an all'. The story of how Mr Latimer had put his own sister's daughter to work, had been the stuff of legend for 11 years, almost like a fairy tale, some of the young girls said.
For Maggie stories were her way of keeping from falling into total despair.
As a parson's daughter she had been able to enjoy the luxury of learning to read.
Her father having begun to teach her at the age of 5.
A week after she had first come to the house, still as Latimer's niece Margaret, she had discovered an Aladdin's cave. The library, shelves and shelves of books,
some so high up that they needed a ladder to reach.
This was not a well used room. Latimer did not approve of reading as a
pastime, and Ann preferred playing with her friends. Margaret was touring the house on a rainy day, opening doors and exploring rooms, when she found this most wonderful place.
Even when she was reduced to a servant, she still visited, the fact that it needed to be done in secret made it all the more exciting.
The other servant's might have been jealous, but Maggie was a generous girl, and believed that her friends needed stories as much as she did, so evenings in the servant's quarters often rang with the sound of Margaret Hale's voice reading all manner of stories. When doing this, the other servant's could hear the voice of the young lady she should have been, rather than shut away here below stairs.
This had continued all through her 11 years here. She was growing into a beautiful young woman, her sweet nature which balanced her often stubborn strong will, emphasised her beauty even more. Had she been given her proper place there was no doubt that she would have been a serious rival for her cousin Ann, whose looks were often spoiled by petulant sulking and slyness.
The library did have another visitor. John Thornton had discovered it on one of his business visits, a total waste he thought in this philistine house.
His education had been interrupted at the age of 16 with the sudden death of his father. Now therefore that he could devote some time to improving his mind, he was making up for lost time.
Most of the time he had been alone in the room, revelling in the silence after the noise of the mill, able to hear his own thoughts. On one day during the summer however he found that the room contained a female servant, and a very comely one at that.
What surprised him was that she had a book in her hands and was reading it.
'Good morning'. In the silence John's voice came like a pistol shot.
The girl nearly dropped the book, plainly terrified. 'Mr Thornton, sir, I wasn't stealing, really I wasn't I borrow books, but bring them all back'. The words came in a desperate rush.
John put out his hand to ease her fear. 'I never thought that you were stealing. It isn't as if the library is in frequent use, I only know of myself and now you that uses the room'.
He looked at her with curiosity. 'I don't mean to pry, but how does a servant, and clearly a lowly one at that, come to be reading?' The girl smiled, her fear forgotten at being addressed as if she were an intelligent being.
'My late father was a clergy man, so I learned to read early. I find now that it helps me to escape for a while. I 'm alone in the world, and I have to earn my keep. My friends enjoy the stories too'.
John smiled. 'Do all the servants here read? I had no idea Latimer was so progressive'. The girl smiled back, amused at such a suggestion. 'I read to them all in the evenings, and have done for years. We've just finished Jane Eyre'.
John looked at the girl in amazement. 'You are a very unusual servant, may I know your name?' The girl bobbed him a curtsy, I'm Margaret Hale sir, but my friends call me Maggie. I really must get back to work sir.
We'll be reading Wuthering Heights this evening'.
And she was gone, leaving John Thornton amazed.
n need of fresh air, he went into the gardens. A gardener was tending some
ravishing yellow roses, their scent floating on the air.
He approached them eagerly. 'May I ?' He asked the gardener, who invited him closer, evidently pleased as John softly caressed the petals and sniffed them.
'I don't believe I know this variety John remarked. 'Not surprising sir', replied the gardener, they're a new variety that I propagated miself'. John looked as if he were contemplating the Holy Grail. 'Not the Milton Belle by any chance?'
The gardener smiled 'yessir, and I'm Nicholas Higgins, not that I've had my proper recognition. The master acts as if it were all his own work'.
John laughed, 'anyone who would believe that James Latimer would be capable of such delicate work isn't worth listening to.
I think Higgins that your skill is better known that you are aware. I'm curious to know where you got the name from though'.
Nicholas looked sad, 'my late wife sir. She died giving birth to our second child, and the child with her. She were the most beautiful woman I've ever seen'. He sighed deeply.
John put a hand onto Higgins' s arm. 'I'm sorry to bring back such a painful memory for you'. Higgins turned to him,
composed again, 'this is the best I can do to make her immortal sir'.
John turned to go. 'Just one more question Higgins. What can you tell me about Maggie Hale? I met her in the library just now'.
Higgins smiled. 'Ahh Maggie is quite the romantic figure sir. She has a story nearly as good as the ones she reads to us of an evening'. He told John all about Margaret's coming to the house, and being put to work when orphaned.
John was shocked, 'her own uncle?' he asked incredulously.
TBC
Here it is. The first 3 chapters are PG13 but after that I'll 'goose it up a little'.
THE MILTON BELLE.
The Rev. and Mrs Richard Hale and their son Frederick, kissed their little daughter and sister Margaret goodbye and saw her into the train.
'It won't be for long darling, be brave and God bless you'. Maria Hale tried not to let her voice tremble. This was for her child's safety.
The village of Helstone in Hampshire was in the grip of a scarlet fever epidemic. Rev Hale took his duties as a spiritual leader seriously, and expected his family to do likewise. Helping the parish in such times was part of these duties. On this occasion he had felt that at 10 years old Margaret should not be subjected to the danger of this terrible disease, although she had said she could be brave like him, and he admired her for it.
She was being sent to her only other relatives. Maria's brother' James Latimer, who now lived close to the northern mill town of Milton. He worked for a bank there, dealing with the money of the minority of men growing rich on the new cotton industry.
The Latimers were an upper middle class London family, who had been scandalised when their daughter Maria fell in love with a simple country parson and married him. Her brother had only agreed to take her daughter, on the understanding that it was a short visit. His beloved ( and spoiled with it)
daughter Ann must not have her reputation and future marriage prospects ruined by association.
Compared with the domestic warmth of her own home, Margaret found the Latimer house cold and forbidding, and her reception was cool at best.
'Never mind Margaret,' she told herself. 'It's only for a few weeks. It's an adventure'.
Sadly Margaret was wrong. 3 weeks into her stay, her uncle called her in to his study. His demeanour suggesting that he found all this a burden. With terrible coldness, he informed her that her parents and brother had all contracted scarlet fever and were now dead.
He was to be her guardian, but she needn't expect to be kept for nothing ( Rev Hale had left very little).
So it was that Margaret Hale found herself put to work as a servant in her relatives' house.
11 YEARS LATER.
It was wash day at the Latimer house. 2 maids Maggie Hale and Bess Higgins, (the daughter of the Latimer's Gardener, Nicholas Higgins, who had some modest local fame, as the man who had propagated a new rose called the Milton Belle) were working the heavy mangle, before taking the clothes to hang out.
It was a warm spring day with a gentle breeze, so the washing should dry well.
The below stairs gossip of today was the visitor who had been to see Latimer.
John Thornton the new master at Marlborough mill. He was reputed to be very handsome, so there had been lots of lurking in corners by young women hoping to catch a glimpse. The consensus of opinion was that reputation had short changed him.
Now Bess and Maggie were chatting. 'Most of the un married women in Milton 'll be after 'im soon', predicted Bess. 'Madam Ann is already casting eyes at 'im.'
She put a hand on Maggie's arm, 'by rights you should be able to go after'im an all'. The story of how Mr Latimer had put his own sister's daughter to work, had been the stuff of legend for 11 years, almost like a fairy tale, some of the young girls said.
For Maggie stories were her way of keeping from falling into total despair.
As a parson's daughter she had been able to enjoy the luxury of learning to read.
Her father having begun to teach her at the age of 5.
A week after she had first come to the house, still as Latimer's niece Margaret, she had discovered an Aladdin's cave. The library, shelves and shelves of books,
some so high up that they needed a ladder to reach.
This was not a well used room. Latimer did not approve of reading as a
pastime, and Ann preferred playing with her friends. Margaret was touring the house on a rainy day, opening doors and exploring rooms, when she found this most wonderful place.
Even when she was reduced to a servant, she still visited, the fact that it needed to be done in secret made it all the more exciting.
The other servant's might have been jealous, but Maggie was a generous girl, and believed that her friends needed stories as much as she did, so evenings in the servant's quarters often rang with the sound of Margaret Hale's voice reading all manner of stories. When doing this, the other servant's could hear the voice of the young lady she should have been, rather than shut away here below stairs.
This had continued all through her 11 years here. She was growing into a beautiful young woman, her sweet nature which balanced her often stubborn strong will, emphasised her beauty even more. Had she been given her proper place there was no doubt that she would have been a serious rival for her cousin Ann, whose looks were often spoiled by petulant sulking and slyness.
The library did have another visitor. John Thornton had discovered it on one of his business visits, a total waste he thought in this philistine house.
His education had been interrupted at the age of 16 with the sudden death of his father. Now therefore that he could devote some time to improving his mind, he was making up for lost time.
Most of the time he had been alone in the room, revelling in the silence after the noise of the mill, able to hear his own thoughts. On one day during the summer however he found that the room contained a female servant, and a very comely one at that.
What surprised him was that she had a book in her hands and was reading it.
'Good morning'. In the silence John's voice came like a pistol shot.
The girl nearly dropped the book, plainly terrified. 'Mr Thornton, sir, I wasn't stealing, really I wasn't I borrow books, but bring them all back'. The words came in a desperate rush.
John put out his hand to ease her fear. 'I never thought that you were stealing. It isn't as if the library is in frequent use, I only know of myself and now you that uses the room'.
He looked at her with curiosity. 'I don't mean to pry, but how does a servant, and clearly a lowly one at that, come to be reading?' The girl smiled, her fear forgotten at being addressed as if she were an intelligent being.
'My late father was a clergy man, so I learned to read early. I find now that it helps me to escape for a while. I 'm alone in the world, and I have to earn my keep. My friends enjoy the stories too'.
John smiled. 'Do all the servants here read? I had no idea Latimer was so progressive'. The girl smiled back, amused at such a suggestion. 'I read to them all in the evenings, and have done for years. We've just finished Jane Eyre'.
John looked at the girl in amazement. 'You are a very unusual servant, may I know your name?' The girl bobbed him a curtsy, I'm Margaret Hale sir, but my friends call me Maggie. I really must get back to work sir.
We'll be reading Wuthering Heights this evening'.
And she was gone, leaving John Thornton amazed.
n need of fresh air, he went into the gardens. A gardener was tending some
ravishing yellow roses, their scent floating on the air.
He approached them eagerly. 'May I ?' He asked the gardener, who invited him closer, evidently pleased as John softly caressed the petals and sniffed them.
'I don't believe I know this variety John remarked. 'Not surprising sir', replied the gardener, they're a new variety that I propagated miself'. John looked as if he were contemplating the Holy Grail. 'Not the Milton Belle by any chance?'
The gardener smiled 'yessir, and I'm Nicholas Higgins, not that I've had my proper recognition. The master acts as if it were all his own work'.
John laughed, 'anyone who would believe that James Latimer would be capable of such delicate work isn't worth listening to.
I think Higgins that your skill is better known that you are aware. I'm curious to know where you got the name from though'.
Nicholas looked sad, 'my late wife sir. She died giving birth to our second child, and the child with her. She were the most beautiful woman I've ever seen'. He sighed deeply.
John put a hand onto Higgins' s arm. 'I'm sorry to bring back such a painful memory for you'. Higgins turned to him,
composed again, 'this is the best I can do to make her immortal sir'.
John turned to go. 'Just one more question Higgins. What can you tell me about Maggie Hale? I met her in the library just now'.
Higgins smiled. 'Ahh Maggie is quite the romantic figure sir. She has a story nearly as good as the ones she reads to us of an evening'. He told John all about Margaret's coming to the house, and being put to work when orphaned.
John was shocked, 'her own uncle?' he asked incredulously.
TBC