Margaret of the North (12 page)

Margaret's London relations
descended on the Thorntons in the afternoon two days before the wedding.  Mrs.
Thornton heard the carriage when it entered the courtyard and watched from the
window as the party got off.  John and Margaret, unaware that they intended to
arrive that day, were out for a walk and Mrs. Thornton was alone to receive
them.  She was acquainted only with Mrs. Shaw, who she first met when Mrs. Shaw
accompanied Margaret to say her "goodbyes" on the day she left Milton
after her father died.  The London party was shown to the drawing room and Mrs.
Shaw  accordingly introduced everyone.

"My daughter Edith—she and
Margaret grew up together and are like sisters."

Edith gave Mrs. Thornton a slight
bow and a polite smile which the latter responded to in a similar fashion as
she quickly summed Edith up and dismissed any further interest in her:
Beautiful in the classic English tradition and refined in the way Margaret was
but spoiled and used to having her way.

"Her husband, Captain
Lennox.  He will stand in for Frederick.  You must know about Margaret's older
brother who, unfortunately, cannot come or he would have given Margaret
away."

Mrs. Thornton bowed again and
smiled without a word.  She thought the captain handsomer than any man ought to
be, with the air of indolence and indulgence typical of a London gentleman, a
perfect match for his wife and, like her, was not an object of further interest
to Mrs. Thornton.

"And this is Mr.  Henry
Lennox, the Captain's older brother, practically part of the family.  We welcome
him nearly everyday for breakfast or dinner at our home in London.  He has been
a friend to my girls for many years, but particularly to Margaret.  He is a
lawyer and since Margaret inherited Mr. Bell's fortune, he has also been her
legal adviser and financial consultant."

Mrs. Thornton acknowledged Henry
in much the same manner as the first two but regarded him with more curiosity. 
She saw intelligence, cunning and ambition in his alert eyes and she wondered
why he had not sought Margaret for himself.  Then, it occurred to her that
perhaps he did but, with her acute maternal bias, she could not imagine
Margaret preferring him over John.

In fact, Henry thought it in his
best interest to bury his disappointment and regret at losing Margaret and,
instead, preserve the friendship and business relationship he had with her.  A
practical and unsentimental man, he did not suffer that loss quite as deeply
nor as lengthily as John Thornton did when Margaret had rejected his proposal. 
So, when offered an invitation to the wedding, Henry accepted with only a few
moments hesitation.  He decided it wiser to make an effort to befriend Mr.
Thornton  and possibly persuade him to be a client rather than to resent him
or, worse, alienate him as an enemy, a daunting possibility Henry was not
willing to take on based on what he knew of Mr. Thornton.

Mrs. Shaw named the two other
women who came with them as Mrs. Shaw's personal maid Anne, a spinster way past
forty, modestly dressed but ladylike and very dignified; and Rose, a plump
genial nursemaid to Edith's son, not much above thirty with a smile that
perpetually turned up the corners of her mouth.

Mrs. Thornton was uncomfortable
during the meeting, uncertain about how to deal with Londoners whose
fashionable airs she privately scoffed at.  She assumed a more formal manner
than usual, distancing her young guests who, after being introduced to her,
returned the compliment of her indifference by finding nothing more to say to
her for the rest of the visit.  In spite of her aloofness, Mrs. Thornton was
observant of proper decorum and desirous to show that northern hospitality was
at least equal to that in London society so, in as gracious a manner as she
could manage, she offered to put the party up at her house.

"We have room for all of
you."  She proclaimed by way of concluding her offer, her eyes sweeping
across all her guests including the two maids.

Mrs. Shaw  politely declined. 
"How very kind of you but we have already reserved rooms for all of us at
one of the hotels."

Mrs. Thornton needed no further
excuse and did not press the offer.  She nodded and was actually quite relieved
that her visitors declined.  Underneath her graciousness, she was uneasy that
she knew hardly anything of what courtesies were accepted in London and,
therefore, she and her servants would have been constantly anxious attending to
the London party.  But Mrs. Thornton had a natural sense of what she owed her
guests, wherever they were from, and that sense required further satisfaction. 
"Can I at least offer you some tea?"

Mrs. Shaw gently but firmly
declined once again.  "How very nice of you but thank you.  Since we are
engaged here for dinner tomorrow evening and very tired from the ride from
London, I believe we should check into our hotel and rest.  There is so much to
do tomorrow."

Edith added, "Sholto is
getting restless.  I must spend time with my son because he will be staying
with the nursemaid for much of our stay here."

"Yes, there is the baby to
consider as well," Mrs. Shaw  reiterated and without waiting for a reply,
beckoned for Anne to approach.  "But I did want to offer help to you
through my maid, Anne.  She has been with me a long time and very ably managed
the kitchen and the staff at Edith's wedding.  She would also be of valuable
help to Margaret as she gets dressed on her wedding day."

Mrs. Thornton did not know
whether to be thankful or to be offended.  She stared at Mrs. Shaw, uncertain
how to respond.

Mrs. Shaw  saw her hesitation. 
"Mrs. Thornton, Margaret is like a daughter to me, especially now.  With
her mother gone, I feel we should have taken on the entire preparation for her
wedding but because she preferred to have it here rather than in London, we had
to impose on your kindness instead.  So please allow me to offer as much help
as I can now.  It would lessen my guilty conscience about not having done
enough."

Mrs. Thornton listened patiently,
still unconvinced.  "Dixon would probably be thankful for her help."

"Indeed!  They know each
other and have worked together."

"Leave her here then.  We
should easily find some room for her in the maids' quarters."

Offering Anne to assist in
wedding preparations was not the only reason the London party made Marlborough
Mills their first stop.  The women travelled to Milton in Mrs. Shaw's carriage
while the Lennox brothers took the train.  During their visit with Mrs.
Thornton, their footman directed the unloading from the carriage of boxes of
wine, meats, and cheeses for the wedding dinner and an even greater number of
boxes carefully packed with roses, ribbons, and garlands of leaves with which
to decorate the church, the dining table, and the carriage that would take
Margaret to church. 

Edith had insisted on the
decorations through her mother's lame protests and her husband's breezy ridicule
of feminine frivolities.  Edith wanted to surprise her cousin with a touch that
she knew would delight her.  Margaret had been tireless in the preparations for
Edith's wedding, had protected her zealously from unwanted social intrusions
that came inevitably when her marriage was announced, and Edith wanted to
reciprocate.  Besides, Edith thought, Milton sounded so grim that it needed
something bright and "a la mode" from the southern region.

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

The day before the wedding was
frantic with preparations.  Edith was at the church directing and occasionally
helping Rose and two of the Thornton maids put up decorations.  She had also
dragged along Captain Lennox who protested the indignity to his manhood of
draping ribbons on church pews but his wife prevailed with gentle threats and
pleas of how they needed a man to do a very few difficult tasks.  The Thornton
household was busy cooking, polishing silver, cleaning and putting the house in
order to Mrs. Thornton's spotless specifications.  Margaret was spared from the
frenzy and joined Mrs. Shaw at the hotel for a relatively restful day of caring
for and playing with Sholto.

In the evening, they all gathered
for dinner at the Thornton house.  Margaret was reunited with her cousin for
the first time since she left London.  They sat together in a quiet corner of
the room for the first quarter hour of the evening, sharing news and exchanging
other confidences, most of which were about the same things Margaret had
already told Edith in her letters.

As the night wore on, Edith kept
a discreet eye on Margaret, anxious to reassure herself that her cousin was
happy.  John Thornton was rather handsome, she thought, although a bit
formidable in his intensity.  Still, she suspected he was probably a better match
for Margaret's intrepid spirit than Henry who, though witty and sophisticated,
was probably too dispassionate and—searching for the right word, she could only
come up with—lawyerly.  Edith was also pleased that John seemed to take an
extra effort to seek her out and talk to her.

Margaret had earlier given John a
brief account of her London relatives so he knew that Edith and Margaret had
spent much of their youth together being taught all that were necessary to
become accomplished young ladies and they grew as close to each other as if
they were sisters.  Margaret also told him that Edith was marvelously
proficient at the piano and one way to win her favor was to ask her to play. 
John, keen to get acquainted with someone Margaret cared about and grew up
with, thought it a great idea that would add an entertaining element that past
Thornton parties never had.

He approached Edith with a warm
smile and she, who learned from Margaret's letters about Milton civilities not
usually observed in London, reached her hand out to him as she returned his
smile.  "I can see Margaret told you about our quaint practices
here," he said.

"Yes, we spent many years
growing up together and are quite each other's confidante."  Edith looked
across the room at Margaret, who was in conversation with her mother, before
adding, "And yet, we are not really very much alike.  She was always the
independent one who had a mind of her own and I was the one who took to heart
all that we were taught."

"I gathered as much.  She
told me that you are uncommonly accomplished at the piano.  Our instrument here
may not be as good as yours in London but I think it would please everyone if
you would play for us after dinner."

She acquiesced with a slight
graceful bow of her head, a gesture John had also observed in Margaret. 
"Margaret flatters me too much but yes, certainly, I shall be happy
to."  Then, she asked, her eyes darting towards her cousin, "Do you
know that she could play fairly well herself if she practiced?"

John was pleasantly surprised,
"No, I thought she did not play at all."

"Well, it is true, she never
applied herself to it as I did when we were children and without a piano when
she and my aunt and uncle moved here to Milton, she probably could not
practice.  She always preferred books and drawing to piano and dancing
lessons.  But Margaret has a sensitive ear and just before she came back here,
she started practicing a little again and we played a few airs together."

"Then, perhaps, we could
prevail on you both for some duets."  John replied, his eyes searching
those of Margaret who sat with her back to him.  Suddenly conscious that his
eyes were on her, she turned her head, gazing back at him for a long moment,
returning the mix of tenderness and passion in his eyes.

Edith looked away, uncomfortable
at intruding into this very private exchange between two lovers.  She saw a
Margaret she never knew, one apparently capable of intense feelings and, in
Edith's romantic imagination, probably even of irrational passion.  She knew
Margaret to be strong-willed, possessed of a lively intellect, the level-headed
one who thought for herself and, when they were growing up, for Edith as well. 
In turn, Edith coached her nonchalant cousin on the decorum of fashionable
London and selected Margaret's wardrobe for her.  This reciprocity suited the
cousin's different temperaments.  Edith did not care to be bothered to think
matters through and trusted Margaret's generous and loyal nature not to lead
her astray while Margaret acknowledged her cousin's superior social skills and
sense of style. 

It was a different Margaret Edith
saw that evening and it thrilled her to imagine her clever cousin vulnerable to
the fluttering of the heart and the trembling of limbs in the presence of the
man she loved.  Edith was sorry for Henry but her conviction grew that he would
not have been equal to her cousin's passionate nature.  Edith who married her
young and handsome captain for love, thought that Margaret, clearly in love,
was more like her than she had imagined.  That night, she accepted her cousin's
choice without question.

John was, himself, a bit
vigilant, but of Henry Lennox.  He wondered why Henry was at this family
gathering because as Captain Lennox's brother, Henry was, at most, a friend and
not a relation to Margaret.  But he also knew that Mrs. Shaw  would be too
conscious of decorum to exclude him and leave him at the hotel by himself that
evening.  In any case, John saw nothing that concerned him; while Henry Lennox
did look a lot at Margaret, she was equally gracious to everyone. 

Sadly, John also noted that
Margaret seemed more at ease and self-possessed in the presence of her London
relations and friends.  Regrettably, the past few days had hardly warmed his
mother's manner towards Margaret who, in turn, was wary and hesitant in Mrs.
Thornton's presence.  For the first time, John confronted the difficulties
occasioned by living with two strong-willed women.  Although he could never
imagine shirking his obligations to his mother, he never doubted that his wife
would always come first.  He was aware, for instance, that although she had not
spoken of it yet, Margaret would want a house of their own, away from the noise
and constant activity of Marlborough Mills.  If so, he would find her one.