Margaret of the North

by EJourney

  "No, of course not. You may not believe it just now but I do understand how you feel and I think the doctor is blind if he does not see your wonderful qualities."

  Catherine looked as if she would cry again. Instead with a long deep sigh, she replied wryly, "He sees no other woman but you."

  "That is regrettable but an end has to come to unrequited feelings." Margaret retorted haughtily, feeling some irritation again. But just as quickly as she replied, she stopped abruptly, regretting her remark, realizing as soon as she said it that it applied to Catherine as well. What had been meant to reassure a friend that she was not a rival might, instead, have sounded callous.

  They were silent again for some minutes. Catherine struggled to hold back more tears and Margaret bit her lip, stared at her book and tried to read; but comprehension was nearly impossible. How could she be so unfeeling? She who had been fortunate enough to have John's regard endure through her rejection.

  Margaret was relieved when Catherine broke the uneasy silence. "Would you help me if I asked you?"

  "But how? I cannot and will not intercede on your behalf, you must see that." Margaret was wary and hesitant.

  "No, no," Catherine protested. "I only want your help with how to improve my looks, how to style my hair and choose my dress, for instance."

  Margaret's face lighted up with a bright engaging smile, grateful for the chance to take action and, in the process, atone for her insensitivity to a friend. "I will do what I can, certainly, although I am hardly an authority on such things. My cousin Edith, whose tastes are generally deemed impeccable, used to select my dresses until I developed my own tastes. I can write her for some advice. I will describe you and, perhaps, even do a sketch of you. Meantime, Dixon knows something about styling hair. We can start there."

  "Perhaps, Dr. Hartley will take serious notice of me, then." Catherine smiled ruefully. "If not, somebody else might."

  **************

  A few weeks later, somebody else did notice. John came up to Margaret as she went through her ritual of brushing her hair before going to bed. He nudged the nape of her neck with a few kisses and then said, "I talked to Miss Rea this morning. One of the workers injured a hand and we had to take him to the clinic."

  "Was he seriously hurt?"

  "No, fortunately. She fixed him up well enough that he felt able to return to his machine." He took the brush from her hand and pulled her up from the chair towards the bed. "Something has changed about your friend, her lips are redder, her cheeks rosier and clearer, and she has done something to her hair. I was surprised to find that she is actually quite pretty."

  "You may only admire her from afar," she declared saucily.

  "I have resisted prettier women before; except one, and she is the loveliest, most precious pearl I could ever hope to find." He dropped down on the bed, pulling her on top of him.

  The following day was Saturday and, for Margaret and John, it meant an intimate, leisurely morning. Since Mrs. Thornton had been visiting regularly, Saturday mornings had become a time together for her and Elise who did not see her parents until late morning or even noon. Her parents were happy to see the affection between Elise and her grandmother and they did all they could to promote it. For Margaret, forming such a bond with someone other than her parents meant that her daughter was becoming more independent.

  On one previous Saturday, Margaret watched from their bedroom window as Mrs. Thornton led Elise by the hand around the garden. She remarked to John who came up to her, curious about what interested her so intently. "I think Hannah will be as devoted to Elise as she was to you and Fanny."

  "Of course, she will. But I wonder if mother realizes how much like you Elise is, in looks and manner."

  "Oh, please say nothing about that to her. Hannah has, at times, been almost affectionate to me but her manner is still often guarded—gracious but guarded. I do not want that to happen between her and Elise."

  Margaret saw John wince at what she said but he only smiled and placed his arm around her waist. "It won't. To me, what matters most is that you two are more at ease with each other and she has finally accepted that I need you and want you and you are in Milton to stay."

  John and Margaret were grateful to Mrs. Thornton for those mornings they could have alone together, wallowing deliciously under the sheets and delighting in each other's touch; she, running her fingers in a delicate caress over his skin; and he, holding her close, sometimes nibbling at whatever part of her he could reach, always playfully at first and often culminating into passionate lovemaking. They relished those moments—precious hours of affirming what each meant to the other, treasured hours cut out of their busy schedule—and sought them whenever they could since that first time they made love again after Elise was born.

  Such mornings ended with breakfast in bed and a lively tête-à-tête, often about some topic started at an earlier time. This particular Saturday morning, while having breakfast, John observed, "You and Miss Rea are up to something."

  "Whatever do you mean?"

  "Why, the change I noticed only lately in Miss Rea's appearance and in her demeanor! I also saw you opening a package with Dixon a week ago with lady's things from Edith and yesterday, I saw them on Miss Rea."

  "You do surprise me sometimes. I did not realize you paid any mind to these things."

  "Well, I do not, ordinarily, except when they involve my wife."

  Margaret glanced sideways at him and took some time before answering. "I promised not to say but I can probably tell you because you are my husband. Catherine," Margaret began but hesitated, looking at him with pleading eyes, "but I feel bad betraying a confidence."

  John smiled sympathetically. "Yes, I can see that. Anyway, I think I know what this is all about because I have seen how Miss Rea looks at Dr. Hartley. He may not pay attention to how she feels but I cannot see how he could fail to notice the change in her looks. It is quite striking."

  "Yes, one can rely on Edith to know how to bring out a woman's physical beauty. I always thought Catherine's features rather pretty but men, as usual, did not notice them behind the plain and austere exterior she presented. I am thankful Edith enjoys being of use in such matters. She wrote us a rather long letter of instructions on styling, potions, feminine accessories and ladylike demeanor. The package we opened contained many things she talked about in her letter and were her gift to Catherine."

  John chuckled, "Good. I wish Miss Rea well and all of you success for your efforts. Me? I look forward to being freed up from paying Dr. Hartley more attention than he deserves."

  Dr. Hartley, as John surmised, did see and, after some time, even guessed Catherine's true sentiments for him. Convinced since Elise's birthday party that the young Mrs. Thornton was going to remain immune to his feelings and that Mr. Thornton was indeed the formidable rival that Dr. Donaldson warned him of, Dr. Hartley finally opened himself to the charms of other women. To the chagrin of both Catherine and Margaret, however, he ignored Catherine and began escorting around many pretty heiresses of manufacturing fortunes. To Margaret's relief, Catherine had gained more confidence in her looks and was learning to be more philosophical about her unrequited feelings. Although Dr. Hartley made her unhappy once again despite her efforts at making herself more attractive, Catherine reassured Margaret that she was finally beginning to accept the doctor's indifference.

  **************

  At her cousin's request, Margaret had been keeping Edith informed of Catherine's little adventures. When Margaret related the most recent events, Edith decided to play matchmaker, albeit a discrete one. After the Thornton household had settled in their new house, Edith became a more regular visitor there in late spring and around Christmastime when the two families got together in Milton or London to celebrate the holidays together. In the autumn after the Thorntons returned from Paris, Edith came to visit to hear a first-hand account of the reunion with Frederick. She and the captain brought along a friend of Captain Lennox who had resigned
his commission to become a barrister.

  Charles Bennett was an earnest and sensitive young man of 29 who did not see himself cut out for the military but joined it to placate his father. As soon as the father died, he decided to do what he always wanted: to set up a law office in one of the industrializing northern cities which he saw as being on the forefront of change. When Edith heard of his intent, she invited him to come with her and the captain to be introduced to the Thorntons, "prominent people" in Milton.

  Her plan was to have him meet Catherine in the relatively relaxed ambiance of a small dinner party of close friends. She asked Margaret to invite Catherine to dinner on their second night there, certain that Captain Bennett and Catherine would like each other and, perhaps, even form an attachment. Edith had met Catherine on one of her previous visits. With additional coaching from her on enhancing feminine charms, she declared Catherine as attractive as any in her London circle, nearly as clever as Margaret, but more desirous to please and less prone to speak her mind. More appealing, therefore, to a lot of men in her acquaintance and perfect for drawing out shy Captain Bennett who liked clever but soft-spoken women.

  The night before the London party arrived, Margaret spoke to John about Edith's matchmaking and the dinner planned for the second night of their visit. He surprised her by getting into the spirit of it. "I will ask Dr. Hartley over for that evening. He has never refused an invitation to dine here and his presence will double the intrigue."

  "You astonish me. When I first knew you, you were grave in manner, serious in purpose, and not given to laughter. Only by a glint of merriment in your eye could I tell that you were amused. Now, you take part in our devious, frivolous feminine machinations."

  He laughed, "Frivolous? No! Devious? Yes. I know now that finding a wife or husband is serious business so why should I not help? If that paragon of masculinity, the Captain, gets involved, why not I?"

  "It seems out of character for you somehow." She frowned a little, eyed him closely, and then smiled merrily. "But I like it when you laugh so spontaneously."

  "I did not have much to laugh about before. Now, I do. My world has grown, burst out of a cotton pod, freed from breathing, living only for cotton." He replied lightheartedly, smiling warmly at her.

  Margaret returned his smile but said nothing more and turned her attention back to her dinner, staring at the almost uneaten dish on her plate. John glanced at her quizzically, her eyes had taken on that faraway look he had seen in her when she became pensive, absorbed in some reverie. This time, he knew it was pleasant since a half-smile lingered on her lips. He resumed his dinner and ate in silence, watching her for some minutes as she ate very slowly. She looked as if she found the food difficult to swallow. He could not help asking, "Are you not feeling well?

  She did not answer right away but continued to slowly fork the food into her mouth. After a minute or two and without looking up from her plate, she said, "What if your world were to grow more?"

  John was not quite certain at first what she meant. He put his fork down and frowned, trying to comprehend her question; then his eyes glistened with a happy suspicion. "You mean another child?"

  She looked up at him and nodded, a smile slowly lighting up her face. "It is not too soon for you, is it, to have a second one? Elise will be three years old by the time this one is born."

  "No, oh no!" He reached out, squeezed her hand, and raised it to his lips. Then, flippant again, he said, "Paris, isn't it? That is what I would like to think, anyway."

  **************

  Edith's expectations worked in so far as Captain Bennett and Catherine did find each other agreeable. The two stumbled upon much to talk about and, seated next to each other at dinner according to Edith's plan, they spent most of the evening in conversation. Dr. Hartley had been placed across the table between Mrs. Thornton, who mostly listened or talked to her son, and Captain Lennox, who largely engaged Margaret in conversation. He could not miss what was going on in front of him. But the hoped-for romantic alliance did not come to pass the way Edith had envisioned it. Captain Bennett was of an inherently wary frame of mind to trust first encounters and Catherine's hopes that Dr. Hartley might return her affection were revived when she noticed how often he looked at her at dinner. Dr. Hartley did pay more attention to Catherine after that dinner but, while sensible of her charms, he seemed immune to them. About a month later, his attention to Catherine waned and he resumed escorting other women.

  It took a year before Catherine finally gave up on the doctor. Shortly before that time, Captain Bennett had decided Milton was the place for him and he returned to open a law office with the intention of settling there if his practice grew. Edith—suspecting that he was too shy to approach the Thorntons and to renew acquaintances he formed on his first visit—wrote Margaret about his move to Milton, with entreaties to invite him for tea or dinner to which she must, of course, also invite Catherine. By such machinations, Edith continued her matchmaking which Margaret, for the sake of her friend, assisted. Thus, were Captain Bennett and Catherine thrown frequently into company. In time, they realized how suitable their dispositions were to each other. He proposed and she accepted. Edith was triumphant although it bothered her romantic notions somewhat that the attachment was not based on the sweet passion that she believed swept her off her feet upon meeting her captain or the intense ardor wordlessly exchanged between Margaret and John. Still, her success gratified her and she allowed that mutual respect and affection were enough to unite two people in matrimony.

  Eventually, Dr. Hartley married a vacuous beauty, the heiress of a very rich manufacturer, a Miss Lambert who came back from finishing school and immediately became the belle of the society the Thorntons moved in. John, who had a high opinion of Dr. Hartley's good sense, thought the choice imprudent and remarked to Margaret after the engagement was announced. "He was dazzled by her beauty but he will tire of her soon enough. I feel sorry for Dr. Hartley. I think this is an impulsive choice, one he will regret."

  "Miss Lambert does dazzle and Catherine would definitely have been a better match for the doctor, in mind and temperament. I would have wagered for a more lasting and true conjugal felicity between her and the doctor." Margaret paused and was thoughtful for a moment before adding, "Still, I do not think, for an instant, that Charles Bennett is less capable of making Catherine happy."

  "Well, he is steady, calm, almost phlegmatic in disposition and, therefore, less riveting than the exuberant, impulsive, virile American. Perhaps, reliable, loyal, and true do suit Mrs. Catherine Bennett better."

  "Life with Captain Bennett, from what I gather, has been tranquil and Catherine has been serenely happy. Dr. Hartley might have given her more adventure and perhaps, some periods of intense joy but, I would guess, also more heartache."

  A scowl flitted through John's brow as he tried to suppress the irritation he felt at this remark. He was confident of Margaret's love, so why should it matter? Did he not acknowledge likewise that Dr. Hartley would have been a more exciting mate for Catherine? But John could not help being vexed by suspicions that Dr. Hartley never got over Margaret. When he first met Miss Lambert, John was struck by how she had nearly the same coloring and build as Margaret. Miss Lambert was arguably more stunning and—conscious of her beauty—was vain enough to flaunt it. But the more he looked at her, the more John saw that the brightness in Miss Lambert's ivory skin was enhanced by artificial means and careful choice of colors in her dress and that her blue eyes, enlarged by subtly applied shadows around them, had neither the depth nor lively expressiveness he saw all the time in his wife's eyes. Despite his vexation, John felt sorry for Dr. Hartley and he remembered his agony, nearly forgotten now, when he thought Margaret loved someone else. And yet, had his own story not had a happy ending, he was certain he would not have settled for such a shallow substitute, one who did not live up to the attributes of the original.

  XXVIII. Epilogue

  The much awaited first reunion of the Thornt
ons and the Hales took place three years after John and Margaret visited Frederick and Dolores in Cadiz. The two couples decided to rendezvous in Paris in the month of September when the weather was turning temperate, not as hot and humid as in the height of summer but not yet as wet as late fall or winter. They were all desirous to meet to cement sincere and happy alliances curtailed by the short time they had spent together in Spain. This reunion of brother and sister was not nearly as tearful or poignant as the one they had in Cadiz—the pain of their shared losses having slowly receded. On their first meeting at the apartment they rented in Paris, the generally happy years immediately preceding prevailed, expressed in warm, exuberant embraces not only between Frederick and Margaret but also between each of the couple and the other.

  This visit was rendered particularly meaningful by their having become parents for the first time and they were, thus, anxious for Elise and little Frederick, born only two months apart, to know and be known by the other family. Acquainting their children with relatives on the opposite end of the continent was akin to an initiation ritual, a poignant one for Frederick but more so for Margaret whose sense of being all alone and rudderless after her father died had been acute, a sense that still occasionally haunted her. Although no longer disconsolate with grief at losing her parents, she often recalled—with a quiet melancholy—that they would never see her so happily settled and her daughter would never know her grandparents. Margaret was determined that Elise should know she had family she could claim proudly on her mother's side, an uncle she could turn to, if it became necessary. She did not doubt that Elise could rely on her grandmother for support. But grandmama was not likely to be around all her life.

  Dixon accompanied the Thorntons. She had initially hesitated to come, fearful of traveling to a foreign country with strange customs and an even stranger language. Margaret had asserted that they needed someone to help take care of Elise but Dixon continued to vacillate. When Margaret told her that they would have to take Mary if she did not want to go, she was taken aback. Not long after, she received a letter from Dolores, profuse with hopes of meeting her. Dixon finally consented to go, admitting that she was, indeed, eager to see Frederick again, curious about Dolores, and not immune to boasting that she had seen Paris. Besides, there was no better place than Paris to spend money accumulated from her years of service.