Margaret of the North (44 page)

"Perhaps, you should tell me
first what you had in mind and we shall see."

She eyed him closely.  He seemed
determined to hear her out first.  "Well, it is about what we should do
for the mill this Christmas."

"Do you think we need to do
more than last year?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. 
The mill seems to be doing better than you expected and you said it will
probably do even better at least through next year."

"Yes, orders are increasing
and new clients are planning to give us their orders next year.  I, too,
thought we might do more for Christmas.  Do you have something specific in
mind?"

"I do have some ideas I have
written down and I have costs attached to them.  They are merely estimates, of
course, particularly the number of children which Nicholas gave me."

"I am impressed.  Figures do
not intimidate you?"

"You can thank Henry Lennox
for that.  When I came into Mr. Bell's inheritance, he told me that, although I
might have a lawyer and financial advisers, I should have some understanding of
finances and learn to handle my own.  He spent many hours teaching me about
money, earnings, and investments."

John knitted his eyebrows at the
image this little revelation conjured up of Henry Lennox and Margaret huddled
together over a sheaf of papers in the Harley Street study.  The idea of his wife
spending hours with a man who had shown a long-standing interest in her
irritated him.  He tried to suppress it but, for some reason, it rankled him
now more than ever and he could not attend to what Margaret was saying.

"I already knew basic
budgeting, of course, when I had to assume my mother's responsibilities after
she became ill."  Seeing the frown on his face, she paused, hesitated, and
then when he said nothing, resumed what she had started to say.  "But I
never before had to deal with large figures and the greater complexity of
interests and earnings.  Expenses for gifts and a dinner at the mill dining
hall are easier to figure out, in comparison."

She saw the lingering frown on
his face and wondered if he was reacting to the manner in which she just
spoke.  She was proud of what she learned about the intricacies of money and
its management and she believed that, for her, it was an accomplishment. 
Numbers were never supposed to interest girls and, growing up, it suited her
that she only had to learn basic arithmetic operations.  But Henry was quite
persuasive about the need for her to know, at least, how her inheritance was
being managed because women, he said, were much more likely to be victims of
someone who was tempted to deceive and cheat.  It surprised Margaret to find
the subject fascinating and not that difficult to grasp and she became an
eager, inquisitive student.  So, yes, she might come across as proud, even
self-congratulatory about understanding figures on balance sheets.

She searched John's face for some
indication of what was on his mind but he seemed to her to be staring at her
blankly, his mind somewhere else.  "You are not ready to hear any details,
are you?  Perhaps, we should talk about what is on your mind, instead?"

He struggled to return his focus
on what she was saying.  "I'm sorry.  My mind did wander into something
unrelated.  If you have those figures, I can look at them this evening.  I am
sure your plans will be doable."

"I shall give them to you
before dinner."  She looked away, feeling a little let down at the
detached formality in his voice.  "Something is bothering you.  I have
seen you staring into space often since your return from London."

She led them back to the house
and he followed, walking slower and a few paces behind.  She turned her head
briefly back at him.  "Do you want to talk about it?  Our sitting room,
perhaps, if you need privacy.  Or is your study a more appropriate place?"

He threw her a glance, wondering
how it occurred to her to mention his study which he used mostly to work on
matters associated with the mill.  Although their books especially those of her
father's, were stored in the shelves there, they took the books they wanted and
read elsewhere, usually in their sitting room and lately, in the conservatory
on nice days. 

He considered her suggestion
thoughtfully.  "That is a good idea, actually.  Let's go to my
study."

She nodded wordlessly and hurried
back into the conservatory without waiting for him.  Elise turned when Margaret
entered the room and raised her arms up to her mother, uttering something
unintelligible but vaguely familiar.  Margaret picked her up, "Are you
tired, ma puce?"  She held her daughter close to her bosom, kissed her on
both cheeks and then nuzzled her belly playfully until Elise started giggling.

John had come in by then but he
did not approach, preferring to watch his wife and daughter from a few paces
away.  Though he still seemed absentminded, the somber undertone to his manner
had been replaced by a warm smile that reached his eyes.  Margaret turned her
head and fixed her eyes on his, now soft and loving, and with a brief but
earnest look that dissolved the distance recently wrought between them.

She handed Elise over to Mary but
her daughter clung to her and started whining.  "You have to go with Mary
right now, my angel.  Mama and Papa have something they need to do."  She
addressed Mary.  "She probably needs a nap.  I'll come as soon as I
can."

She turned around, hooked her arm
around John's and nudged him to walk on but on seeing Elise cry, he hesitated. 
Margaret reassured him with a smile, "Don't worry, she will be all right. 
She's just tired.  Mary knows what to do."

**************

Margaret seldom went into John's
study, regarding it to be a private space to which she usually needed an
invitation to enter.  It was not that John gave some indication that she needed
to do so but she knew how her father needed such a space for contemplation and
peaceful moments alone and assumed that John needed one as well. 

John's study was about half the
size of their sitting room, lined with bookshelves that nearly reached the
ceiling and equipped with a large secretary with deep drawers for files.  The
room had a stove instead of a fireplace and next to it, an armchair and a side
table.  Except for the armchair and the chair in front of the secretary, there
was no place else to sit in the room.  At the house in the mill compound, John
had a larger study that also served as his bedroom before he married but here,
he wanted a relatively spare space devoted to work and contemplation.  He had
his old bed placed in his dressing room which was as large as the study and
connected to the sitting room by a door.

He offered the armchair to
Margaret, took the desk chair and pulled it closer so he sat facing her.  For a
long moment, he looked at her without saying anything.  She gazed back at him,
waiting. 

He asked, "Why did you
suggest my study?"

"I don't know.  You seemed
so detached and preoccupied that I might have thought a neutral environment
appropriate.  Besides, we are talking about matters pertaining to the
mill."

He nodded thoughtfully.  "I
have been preoccupied lately and, yes, I suppose my mind has sometimes been
elsewhere."  He paused as if he was searching for the right words. 
"You have never asked me even once since I got back from London how the
trip with my mother went."

Margaret started to open her
mouth as if to protest at what sounded to her like an accusation but John
gently placed his fingers on her lips.

"No, you need not answer
that.  I think I do know why and I am grateful.  Actually, it is the old house
at the mill I wanted to talk to you about."  He paused to see if she had
something to say before continuing.  "So far, no one seems interested in
buying or leasing it for business purposes and I doubt that anyone who wants a
house and can afford to buy it would want to live next to a noisy, dusty mill. 
Perhaps, we should reconsider its sale."

"What did you have in
mind?"

"First of all, the mill is
continuing to grow and I will soon need to move into a larger office that can
accommodate another person to help with bookkeeping and correspondence."

"You want to use the mill
house as an office?"

"Well, part of it, yes.  And
I thought of turning over my old office to the workers as a meeting place where
they could discuss work-related matters."

"That is a radical idea, is
it not—giving workers a place at the mill to congregate for that purpose?  And
exceedingly generous."

"I hesitate to take full
credit for being generous.  The thing is I do need more space and in moving, my
old office will be empty.  Why not put it to some good use?"

"I think it is wonderful but
I think there will be objections from other mill owners."

"Of course, they will object
but this is our mill, to do with as we see fit.  I will confess to having
apprehensions.  This decision to involve workers in creating better conditions
at the mill might not really pay off in the end but I must try, anyway."

"What if they use the office
to plan a strike?"

"That poses a dilemma. 
Strike is arguably a work-related matter but it is against the interests of
owners or managers.  I sincerely do not know.  I'll have to think about that
one."

"Perhaps, they will have
enough scruples to meet elsewhere if it is a strike they are considering."

He nodded but a frown had begun
once more to crease his brow.  "Margaret, I really must talk to you about
something pressing on my mind."

"I am listening."

"About the mill house—I will
only need the ground floor for my office.  But I have also been thinking about
mother.  You and I both know that she does not seem too happy living here and
would have preferred to stay at the old house.  We could turn the top floor
into a flat for her.  She would not need more than one maid to live with her
and perhaps two others to come during the day to cook, clean and wash and
another person, on occasion, to run errands."

Margaret could not hide her
surprise and stared at him for some moments, at a loss about what to say.  The
possibility of Mrs. Thornton returning to the old house never occurred to her
although she could not deny that it might be an arrangement that would suit
everyone involved.  But the suddenness of the suggestion bothered her and she
needed time to comprehend what it meant.  She was reluctant about agreeing too
readily to a decision in which the reason remained vague to her and, yet, she
felt it was not really up to her. 

"Have you said anything to
Hannah about it?"

"I did mention it to her
just before I left London and she seemed to think it might be a good
idea."

Margaret, upon hearing this,
could not fail to be curious about whether something significant did happen in
London.  "I'm afraid I am not always as patient as you might think.  My
curiosity does get the better of me, as in this case.  Did something happen in
London between you and your mother?"

"We did talk in the
afternoon before my return about the mill and the workers' request.  You are
quite right.  She did not admit to it directly but she did not need to.  I
could tell from the deep anguish in her voice when talking about the mill that
she feels the loss of her involvement in it probably as she might the loss of
someone she cared deeply about.  Once I saw that, arriving at the decision for
her to move back to the mill house was easy.  There she could still feel she is
a part of the mill, hearing the drone and clanging of cotton mill machines and
observing the activity from the window of the drawing room as she used to
do."

"It does seem like a logical
step to take.  Your mother has not been happy here and yet, we have only been
in this house a few months."

"True, but after only a week
of being home from London, I saw that you were more relaxed and that everyone
else seemed to be, too.  The house is cheerier.  I had to admit, sadly, that
living apart from mother was best for everyone."

"I regret very much that
your mother and I could not get along well and it probably affected everyone. 
Well, the mill house is available and we can afford to put Hannah up in her own
household.  What else is there to say?  It is not really my decision but yours
and your mother's."  She got up from her chair, feeling suddenly exhausted
and inexplicably sad.  "Right now, I need to attend to Elise so, if you
don't mind, I would like to go."

"Margaret."

"We can talk again later but
I do have to go and attend to Elise." 

As soon as she was out of the
study, she bit her lip to hold back tears.  She was confused by her reaction
because his decision made much sense and life after Mrs. Thornton left for
London had been undeniably more at ease for everyone.  On the face of it, the
decision was simple and logical, probably satisfactory to everyone involved and
it had always been there waiting for someone to seize upon it.  This thought
did not lessen Margaret's unease.

**************

That evening, Margaret ordered
dinner in the dining room as if she needed to preserve some distance and a
level of formality with her husband.  She smiled and kept her end of the
conversation going but John sensed that a certain reserve had taken hold of her
and her mind was far away.  Dinner ended early and they walked silently up to
their bedroom.  As he closed the door behind them, he caught her in his arms
and held her tight so she could not wriggle out of his embrace.  He nuzzled the
back of her neck and her shoulders. 

"I don't know anymore how I
could live without you."

She choked down a sob, grasped
his hand and pressed it to her lips.  He turned her around in his arms and
kissing her all over her face, he asked, "What is wrong, love?"

"I don't know.  I am
confused.  Hannah is not happy here with us and your decision seems like the
perfect solution to appease everyone and yet I feel sad.  And let down."