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2021-07-13
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2023-04-21
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7/?
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North & South: Finding Thornton

Summary:

This fanfic story begins a few pages from the end of Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South where Thornton attends Harley Street for a meeting with Henry Lennox and Margaret. Unlike the book, Henry Lennox does attend the meeting.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

Mr. Thornton sat in the opulence of the Harley Street drawing room, impatient for his meeting with Margaret and Henry Lennox. He was puzzled, having already signed the conditions of his lease with Miss. Hale, he couldn’t understand what to expect of this additional requested meeting. 

The long months of the last year had been a tiring battle as he fought against the inevitable. A multitude of reasons had led to the failure of Marlborough Mills, his proudest achievement in life but had he had the time again, he knew his decisions were sound at the time they were made. He had his capital tied up in the new machines he had installed, the cotton bulk he had acquired had cost him dearly only when his factory was unable to fulfill the large orders he had in hand following the strike – the imported Irish workers more costly than a solution. Then when his customers in America could not pay their invoices, the economic disaster in America was severely felt in Milton and in Britain as a whole, and it was this last event that ultimately forced him to close the Mill's doors in order repay his creditors.  How odd and often cruel fate was, he thought bitterly as he fidgeted his now idle hands, it was only due to this fall from success, that he had been given another chance to see Margaret.

Conversely, upstairs in the back drawing room, Margaret could barely concentrate on the conversation in anticipation. Following the hands on the time piece as it neared 11, she strained with futility to hear the admittance of a visitor from the front door whilst appearing attentive to her companions. Her mind was on Mr. Thornton, what he would think of her offering, and think of her?  It was only when Henry stood to suggest they make their way did Margaret’s mind finally focus to the present and she followed him purposefully from the room.

As the clock on the mantel neared the hour, Mr. Thornton’s mind pondered upon his memories one by one. It was over a year since Margaret had left Milton, in the wake of her Father’s unexpected death. He remembered her eyes, full of grief that he wished he could take from her, as he watched her leave unknowingly taking his heart with her. He’d returned to the lonely regimented existence of his life as it was before her arrival, his deep pain within in him hidden from the world and all those in it. He had taken his pleasures as he could in knowing her nearby, in hearing her name spoken of by her Father, or from mutual acquaintances. Admitted to no one, and regrettably denied to her, his heart had remained hers, whether she welcomed it or not. 

Margaret had caught him like no other lady in Milton. Ever since their first, albeit awkward meeting, she had unwillingly caught his attention.  She was like no other, a refreshingly intelligent gentlewoman who’s bold and questioning mind, tamed by her graces of high society, gave her confidence in questioning other’s opinions where most women wouldn’t dare. She partook in conversations other ladies would remain mute, challenging him, oblivious to the attraction he felt towards her. Her refinement of upbringing gave her airs and graces at first he disliked but she was also uncommonly kind to those who were less fortunate, a true parson’s daughter. As a regular visitor to the Hale’s home in Crampton, Mr. Thornton had spent many occasions engaging Margaret on various topics, enjoying her questions and challenges, often displeased of her comments, but amused by her spirit.  He treasured those conversations and had missed them terribly when his lessons became confined to Mr. Hale’s study and few and far between. 

Mr. Thornton knew he would survive his current fall from success, but he felt keenly his personal failure. He already had an offer to run a mill in Milton but it would not be the same as being Master of his own enterprise. His whole life had been the milll it was his biggest achievement, not only bringing him wealth and respect, but a position in society of responsibility to those in Milton.  He knew he would find suitable employment to keep himself and his Mother comfortable, but it was to all those that relied upon his employment that he felt a sincere sadness and sorrow.

The sound of approaching feet brought Mr. Thornton from his thoughts and he stood in greeting as Henry Lennox strode in to greet him.

“Mr. Thornton,” he said flatly, “I trust we haven’t delayed your return to Milton?’ 

Mr. Thornton shook his hand, slightly flummoxed by Mr. Lennox’s changed mannerism, so different to the friendly young man he had dealt with two days ago.

“Not at all, but I confess to being a little perplexed at the reason for this meeting.” His eyes darted towards the door in expectation.

Henry gestured that he take a seat at the table.

“Margaret will be along shortly,” he informed him, “She has specifically requested to be present at this meeting.”

Thornton raised an eye brow in surprise, noting the young lawyer’s poorly hidden displeasure of the situation. 

Margaret! What a pleasant surprise it was to have seen her again as a dinner guest of Henry Lennox at Harley Street, despite his new circumstances. Her presence had momentarily lifted his spirits. She had looked well, but had been uncharacteristically quiet. He had silently wondered if underneath her content facade she was unhappy within the London society. He had detected a note of discontent within her countenance and had tried to find an opportunity to speak more with her during the evening but Mr. Colthurst had monopolized his attention. Rather surprisingly Mr. Thornton had discovered that his name was known to him and his opinions revered despite his known fall from success.

The familiarity he had observed between Henry Lennox and Margaret had been plain. He surmised the two had most likely formed an attachment or that such event wouldn’t be long to be announced. He was a bright, wealthy and good looking young man and very familiar with Margaret and her family. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word and could offer Margaret everything a lady in her position would expect in life. As Marlborough Mills closed it’s doors, Mr. Thornton knew he could no longer demonstrate himself worthy of her, and reluctantly surrendered the hope of ever hoping to win her affections.

What words he had spoken to Margaret in the past - how unjust his behaviour had been not knowing the full facts. If only she had confided in him, but what reason had she to believe that she could trust him? He hadn’t given her any indication of his feelings, always the expert at keeping his emotions firmly concealed, she had no reason to disbelieve his outburst. He hadn’t taken the time to think about Margaret’s feelings at his proposal in the wake of the riot. His asking would have seemed purely through obligation, but that could not have been any further from the truth. Of course Margaret would never marry anyone who felt obligated to ask her, her pride could not accept it. He knew that now, and now it was too late. If today was to be the last time to see Margaret, he would ensure to apologise for his behaviours and endeavor to wholeheartedly wish her well.

Both men stood when Margaret gracefully entered the room moving to join them at the table.

“Good day, Mr. Thornton,” she greeted him bowing her head, “I thank you for agreeing to meet us.”

“Not at all Miss Hale,” he dutifully replied, “but I am very much in the dark as to what I can do for you.”

“Mr. Thornton, it is more of a case of what I, or we, can do for you,” she smiled as the three took their seats.

Mr. Thornton’s head twitched slightly as his eyes questioned Margaret’s. Her simple loveliness struck him again but seeing a determination in her countenance he allowed her to continue.

Margaret nodded, hesitantly took a breath and smiled politely to her lawyer. Turning to Mr. Thornton she addressed him directly.

“Mr. Thornton, it distressed me greatly to discover that Marlborough Mills is unable to continue and in light of my recent….situation, Henry and I have worked upon a business proposition that I think...that I hope you may have interest in.”  

Mr. Thornton’s body snapped to attention, this was somewhat of a surprise. He composed himself and turned his full attention to Margaret, curious to know exactly what she was suggesting.

“Do continue Miss. Hale.”

“Mr. Thornton, it seems I am fortunate enough to have an amount of money that is at present sat unused in a bank, providing me with very little interest.”

Thornton’s mouth flickered the smallest of smiles as Margaret spoke, her eyes now fixed on her hands nervously fidgeting on the table in front of her. Her hesitation gave Henry the perfect opportunity to step in. 

“Miss Hale has declared an interest in using these funds and has requested to offer to you the use of £15,000 to re-open Marlborough Mills to her benefit of receiving a much better rate of interest.” 

Henry sat back to watch Mr. Thornton’s reaction, he was intelligent enough to suspect there was slightly more behind this offer of investment but had no solid proof as such. He studied the manufacturer carefully to ascertain any indication of his thoughts.

Thornton was stunned, such a turn of fortune was unheard of. He had, over the last few months, failed to secure any investment for Marlborough Mills in the wake of his financial strains since the strike and the months that followed. 

“Miss. Hale, such an offer of investment is...most warmly welcome, …but...?” Mr. Thornton was a little lost for words “I...don’t know what to say.”

“Mr. Thornton, this is merely a business engagement,” she offered nervously, “That would allow me to keep a steady tenant and a Milton business running to help the livelihoods and lives of those it employs.” 

Mr. Thornton nodded in acknowledgement. This investment would ensure his mill could reopen, full-fill the orders and keep running whilst the order book was replenished. But such financing could not be found amongst the regular investors, he could only place it on the kindness of Margaret’s character. He took in her soft, smiling expression  and acknowledged with a nod his gratitude to her before turning to Henry to hear the particulars he was now detailing to him.  

“The full detail of the proposition is written here including the necessary securities,’ Henry finished handing Mr. Thornton the legal papers and allowing him time to read over the documents. 

Henry looked over to Margaret who smiled warmly at him her relief evident. He nodded his reply reserving his suspicion at Margaret’s rather odd request but hoping that his help and guidance in this matter would serve to his eventual benefit.

Margaret sat quietly as the men discussed the details, watching Mr. Thornton’s face brighten as his new circumstances become apparent. She felt a private elation to be the source of his change in situation, even if it was from afar. She couldn’t bare the thought that the mill he had worked for so hard, and for so long to achieve, was to lie empty, only be taken on by another far less deserving Master whose ignorance to their responsibilities as an employer left other individuals wanting. 

Her heart had nearly bled when she first saw Mr. Thornton two nights ago, looking as tall and imposing as ever but with a face so changed since she saw him last. She had desperately wanted to brush his worries away with her own hands but alas, he was not hers but she had found a way that she could help. Knowing his feelings to her remained indifferent, from his own admission many months ago, she could nevertheless not bear the loss of this last connection she had with Mr. Thornton as her tenant. As a woman of age and an heiress no less, a position she couldn’t quite comprehend or believe deserved, she was pleased to have found an endeavor that would put some of her desperately excessive wealth to some good and use. 

Mr. Thornton readily signed the documents and thanked Mr. Lennox whole-heartedly who stood to address Margaret. 

“Margaret, it seems Marlborough Mills will open its doors once again!” 

‘I’m glad to hear it, thank you Henry,” she said rising from her chair.

Mr. Thornton rose with her and shook hands with Mr. Lennox and turned to Margaret, the offer of a handshake compromised by the table between them.

“It has been a pleasure to do business with you Miss. Hale.”  

She smiled and bowed her head demurely, “I am only pleased to have been able to help.” 
 
“If I may be so bold,” Mr. Thornton added, “would it be a possibility to acquire a quill and papers so that I may write some immediate dispatches, I fear I have no time to lose.”

‘Of course,” said Henry looking to Margaret who removed herself to find the requested items, “I believe you are welcome to stay as long as you need. And I wish you good luck Mr. Thornton,” he continued, “I look forwards to hearing your successes from Margaret, but I must be on my way.” Henry picked up his bag and bade a friendly farewell to Margaret as she returned carrying the parchment and inks.

Margaret took a slow breath to maintain her poise and placed the papers and his requirements on the table.  Acutely aware of their proximity and position alone in the drawling room, she stepped back, her heart hammering loudly as she struggled to raise her eyes to his.  

“I’ve taken the liberty to order you some refreshments, Mr. Thornton,” she smiled bashfully, forcing herself to regain her full composure.  He was standing quietly regarding her with an expression she couldn’t quite place, but what she did know, was how this man caused her practiced and regal composure to collapse within her as the soft heat slowly crept up towards her face. Dropping her gaze, she moved slowly towards the door.

“Thank you, Miss. Hale.”

“It’s the least I can offer, I’ve just ensured you many more hard days work ahead,” she offered regaining her composure.

“No, Miss. Hale,” Mr. Thornton asserted, “Thank you for the investment in Marlborough Mills, in your confidence in me, I only hope it becomes a sound business investment for you.”

Forcing her eyes to meet his, Margaret answered solemnly “Mr. Thornton, I have no doubt and every confidence in you that Marlborough Mills will succeed.” 

Approaching the door, she turned back with a genuine smile that warmed his soul, “Good luck Mr. Thornton!” and closed the door behind her.


------

Safely behind the closed door of her room, Margaret let out a slow breath and sat herself on the stool in front of her mirror. She smiled at her reflection, the meeting had gone well and Mr. Thornton had accepted her investment. Her heart rested easy, but what now? He would continue as Master of Marlborough Mills in Milton. He would remain her tenant and she? Her heart felt heavy at the reality, she would remain in London amongst the petty social scene of fashion, gossip and dinner parties, spending idle day after day accepting visitors and taking tea; the same dull conversations. 

Margaret’s heart skipped as she recalled Mr. Thornton’s quiet elation at the realisation of what was being offered to him. He could never know the true reason for her generosity, her unrequited love for him was to remain forever hidden but her heart swelled to know she had a part to ensure his continued success. Quite unexpectedly, her involvement in these business matters had quite excited her and it opened her mind to other unknown possibilities.

Life in London wasn’t quite what Margaret had hoped it would become. She had tried to like living here, to be cheerful for the sake of her Aunt and Edith. Being completely honest to herself, she truly missed her life in Milton. She longed to see again the people, her friends, the pace of life and most importantly her independence. In London she felt stifled by the oppression of society and propriety.  But a young lady in her situation what choice did she have? 

A noise of the door opening made Margaret look round as Dixon bustled in carrying a dress over her arm.

“Sorry Miss, I didn’t think you’d be in here,” she chirped laying the clothes on the bed.  “Your evening gowns for tonight. I thought one of these would do well with the heat of the day”

“Thank you Dixon, yes I agree - is Edith in the lounge?’

“Yes I think so Miss, tea is about to be served I believe.”

And with that, Margaret smartened her hair, put on her practised smile and gracefully descended the stairs to join her cousin and Aunt for tea.

Aunt Shaw smiled kindly at Margaret as she slowly lowered herself into a chair.

“Did your meeting go well my dear?’

“It did, Aunt – thank you. I am the proud investor of a cotton mill in Milton!’ she exclaimed, unable to hide her happiness.

“Oh Margaret…” her Aunt sighed, shaking her head “This is all very irregular. Could you not....”

“No Aunt,” cut in Margaret. “Just because I now have this wealth, doesn’t mean I shall change my behaviours to suit propriety. In fact, I feel mildly liberated in being slightly irregular!”

Aunt Shaw sniffed in disgust, she didn’t hide her disapproval from her niece but underneath, she silently admired her bold independence, even if propriety didn’t. 

Margaret smiled into her tea, she loved her Aunt Shaw, and she was grateful to her from the bottom of her heart, especially for taking her in after her Father’s death.  But now being of means, and of age, Margaret did not need her Aunt's approval and ignored the wistful look from across the room.

“Oh Margaret!” Edith cried rushing into the room, “Sholto has been most uncooperative. Because you’ve been so busy over the last two days with your meetings with Henry, he has been refusing to nap without seeing you. I’ve had to leave him in Nurse’s care whilst he loudly demonstrates his stubbornness. He so loves you Margaret, I sometimes worry what I’ll do without you!”

Margaret smiled at her cousin as she sat down dramatically in her preferred chair by the window.

“I will go to him once I’ve finished my tea,” she promised.

The three ladies settled to simple pleasantries whilst they drank their tea. Edith visibly relaxing when the distant noise of Sholto indicated that he had finally succumbed to taking his nap. Margaret smiled at her, Edith clearly enjoyed being a Mother but was quick to remove herself from the more difficult aspects of being a parent relying on Nurse and Margaret to deal with his tantrums and misdemeanours. 

Margaret was aware how Motherhood may well pass her by but she enjoyed her time with Sholto. To her delight, he had grown very fond of her and she of him. She rather liked his stubborn streak, an element she attributed to the Beresford line and smiled to herself imagining Edith’s frustration as this one little person in her life was the only thing that didn’t bend to her will like all other aspects of her sheltered life.

A footman appeared in the doorway clearing his throat.

“Excuse me Miss. Hale, erm, Mr. Thornton has asked me to inform you that he is taking his leave but that he’d be grateful if you had a brief moment to speak with him.”

“Mr. Thornton is still here?” cried Aunt Shaw in surprise.

“Yes, he remained to complete some urgent letters, but I rather thought he had already left.” Margaert replied, placing her cup down on the table and rising to her feet. “I will return shortly.”

Margaret hadn’t expected to see him again, or at least so soon. Her heart pulsed loudly in her ears as she smoothed her dress and discreetly checked her appearance in the mirror. From her elevated position as she descended the stairs to the entrance hall, she saw him waiting, hat in hand shuffling uncharacteristically between his feet. The rustle of her skirts alerted him of her approach and he looked up, greeting her with a reserved smile and nod, his eyes dark and searching.

“Miss Hale,” 

“Mr. Thornton. Have you completed what you hoped to do?” She asked stopping two steps above the bottom, her hand supporting herself on the bannister.

“I have Miss. Hale. I have an urgent telegram to send then suppliers and buyers to visit before I take the train to Milton tomorrow.”

Mr. Thornton looked down a moment as he collected his thoughts. He felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude to this remarkable young woman in front of him, her kindness immeasurable towards someone who had spoken so cruelly to her. The memory of his spoken words made him recoil inside. They had been so far from the truth, even then but his stubborn pride had compelled him to speak them. 

He had felt such hurt at her refusal and her subsequent behaviour at Outwood Station, his hurt overwhelming his usually measured manner. Now, all he wished to do was tell her they were words not meant. That he loved her wholeheartedly and unreservedly but more importantly that he understood her actions and was truly sorry. Sorry for all her pain, sorry for all her grief, and his sorrow at not being the one to support and comfort her through it all. What regrets he had, but here she was standing in front of him, patient and beautiful as ever before, a questioning smile on her lips.  Pulling himself together, he swallowed hard and raised his eyes to hers.

“Miss. Hale, I want to thank you for your investment, I don’t believe you quite realise what it means... to be able to open Marlborough Mills...I have to ask...why?”

Margaret blushed, she didn’t expect him to have asked this, indeed not so abruptly. She was unprepared but her quick mind formed a plausible and sensible argument that she’d used to answer Henry’s persistent enquiries on the matter.

“Mr. Thornton, I find myself in a situation of means that far outstretch my wildest needs in life. Henry has helped me to understand my responsibilities but I confess I’m only a beginner.” She looked down to her hands now fidgeting on her skirts in front of her before continuing, 

“When I heard the news I was about to lose my steadiest tenant due to the failure of the mill, I felt it within my heart to help a dear friend of my Father’s, and indeed to honour your kindness to my Mother, I owed it to you to offer help in a way that I now can.”

Mr. Thornton nodded slightly allowing his eyes to feverently search her's for a sign, anything to know her inner thoughts, but her eyes remained averted, obviously uncomfortable in his presence. He could not blame her. He was touched by her admission, he at least understood she felt some degree of regard for him, even if it was only the honour of his friendship with her Father. But at that moment, he neither wanted to, or tried, to qualm the spark of hope that fluttered in his breast as here was the girl his heart yearned for, the lady he wanted as his wife and the woman he had once hoped would carry his children.
Her gentle tones interrupted his wandering  thoughts and he raised his eyes to hers.

“I have spoken such terrible things to you, Mr. Thornton,” she forced her eyes to meet his, “and I wish to wholeheartedly apologise. I am utterly mortified to have used such venomous words to you, words that you didn’t deserve, and that are so very untrue. I hope you may be able to forgive me?”

She saw Mr. Thornton shift as he understood of her words of that day. “Miss. Hale, there is nothing to forgive, I too am not proud and highly regretful of my own behaviours and words to you. It would please me if we could start afresh, could we at least part as friends?”

“I’d like that,” she said barely above a whisper, the swell of her saddened feelings of regret for this tall and reverent man rising up within her. Blinking quickly to prevent unwanted tears she averted her eyes as Mr. Thornton turned to leave. 

“I wish you well Miss. Hale, I am pleased to see you happy and settled here with your family.”

He reached to open the door, and before she could prevent herself, she stepped off the stairs towards him.

“Mr. Thornton - how will I hear about the mill? How will I know how it is doing?”

Mr. Thornton’s stopped slowly turning back to face her once more. “You will receive a quarterly report detailing the accounts summary of the business and the profit allocated to you, as well as the lease payments. This will all be sent to your representatives acting on your behalf.”

“Oh…” Margaret failed her to hide her disappointment. “So it will be simply numbers and figures?”

“Yes, that is the normal requirements to an investor,” he explained indifferently.

Margaret’s lips quivered, her brows frowning slightly. What was the point of helping to open a mill if she never heard of it’s day to day successes and of those it affected?

Mr. Thornton sensed Margaret’s displeasure, unsure of the reason, he looked sideways at her as a thought entered his mind, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Some investors deem it customary to receive a tour of the mill from time to time,”

“Oh really?” she exclaimed her face looking hopeful. 

“Would that please you Miss. Hale?” he asked 

“Yes, I would like that, very much.” She smiled broadly.

Mr. Thornton couldn’t stop his smile in return, the change so dramatic that Margaret was struck how handsome he appeared. He lowered his head keenly watching her response “In that case I will write to arrange a suitable time when the mill is running smoothly once more.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Thornton, I should like that. Until then,” and she boldly stepped forward to offer her hand to his. She saw a movement within his eyes as he moved to accept, carefully taking her hand in his and fixing his gaze upon her, the butterflies in her stomach delightfully stirring once again.

“Until then, Miss. Hale.” his tone barely audible above a whisper.

She nodded mutely as he released her, his long fingers brushing the palms of her ungloved hand, the sensation sending the butterflies to a new level of activity as she watched him slowly step away and put on his hat. Stepping through the door and down the steps he turned once more touching the brim of his hat in a silent farewell.