Authors: Catherine Winchester
“
Exactly.”
“
Did you have anyone specific in mind?”
“
Yes. And no. It's complicated.”
“
So you are refusing me because you believe me to be in love with another.”
“
Exactly.” In the book he was already madly in love with Margaret. He may like Carrie, but he surely must also have feelings for Margaret.
“
I hate to break it to you, Miss Preston, but no one else outside of my family has any kind of hold over my heart.”
Carrie looked down. Oh no, what had she done!
“
You look upset,” he noted.
“
I am.”
“
Why?”
“
Because... Oh, because it's all wrong, that's why. Nothing is going the way it should and that's my fault.” She felt tears sting her eyes but did her best to blink them back.
“
How is it your fault?”
“
Because I'm not supposed to be here,” she confessed. “I'm supposed to be studying in London, with my family.”
Mr Thornton knelt down beside her chair.
“
I know tragedies can happen but you must not blame yourself. Wherever your family are now, do you not think that they would want you to be happy?”
He was being so kind to her, but it was all a lie because her family wasn't dead! That only served to make her feel worse; she didn't deserve his sympathy. Finally Carrie could hold her tears back no longer and they spilled out over her cheeks.
“
Hey.” He reached out and gently wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Don't cry. I'm sorry I upset you.”
“
I don't deserve you, Mr Thornton. The affection you feel for me shouldn't be mine. I've ruined everything.”
Though he didn't know what she meant, he could see that her pain was genuine.
“
Do you suppose that one day you might explain these odd statements?” he asked kindly. “For whilst they sound like nonsense, I think they are a very large part of understanding who you are.”
Carrie looked into his eyes.
“
If I told you the truth, you would think I was crazy.”
“
Do you really believe so little of me?”
“
No,” she managed a wry smile. “But half the time, I think I'm crazy.”
“
We will talk no more of this now,” he said, gently wiping her cheeks with his handkerchief. “I have upset you and you don't trust me. I hope that at some point you will open up to me, and come to realise that how I feel about you is very real and very right.”
Carrie nodded and turned back to her work, as Mr Thornton stood up and sat back down at his desk. They both got on with their work, doing their best to ignore the undercurrent of tension that existed between them; a pattern that repeated itself for the rest of the week. Then, as if her misery was not enough already, on the Friday the workers went on strike.
With no work to do at the mill, Carrie stayed home most days, helping Dixon. Mr Thornton had said that she could continue to come in and that he would find work for her, but she didn't want him to be paying her for jobs that didn't really need doing, so she declined his offer.
She also did her best to avoid him when he came to his lessons with Mr Hale. He needed a chance to get to know Margaret, and so she made herself scarce every time he arrived.
After two weeks there was no sign of the strike ending, so Carrie tried to find work elsewhere. Not only was she feeling the loss of her wages, she knew that Mr Hale had lost some of his students, or they had at least cut back on their lessons and money was tighter than ever.
Carrie asked for work in shops mainly but was consistently refused. It seemed that Mr Hale and the mill masters weren't the only ones feeling the financial pinch from the strike.
Word got back to Mr Thornton that a young lady was seeking employment, and he guessed who it was. It hurt him that she had refused his offer of work during the strike but was happy to seek employment elsewhere, though he supposed after the shocking way he had behaved toward her when he kissed her, he could not blame her for not wanting to see him.
Besides, despite her fine words about judging people based on their character, he wasn't sure that extended to actually marrying a manufacturer. Though it pained him to admit it, she was far too good for the likes of him.
During the third week of the strike he set about importing hands from Ireland, while his mother prepared for her annual dinner party. He was disquieted to hear that Mr Hale had only replied for three. It could be that Mrs Hale was too unwell to attend, or it could be that Miss Preston was still avoiding him, for he was astute enough to realise that was what she was doing.
Fanny was quite put out about the fact that Miss Preston had been invited, while his mother declared her to be wild and hoped that she did not upset her other guests with her antics.
Mr Thornton rather hoped she would, for he was almost certain that she could argue her point with almost anyone and he enjoyed watching her. He did not know that she had been captain of a debateing team in school, nor that her knowledge gained at GCSE far surpassed that of most educated people in the 1850s, simply because more had been discovered and was understood by the 21st century.
When the evening of the dinner party arrived, Miss Preston looked every inch the lady, putting everyone else there in her shadow without seeming to try, at least to Mr Thornton's eye.
Though she had bought a few dresses of her own now, Carrie didn't have anything suitable for a dinner party and once again Margaret had ridden to her rescue, offering her a choice of her silk gowns from London.
Carrie chose a dusky pink dress with a low, off the shoulder neckline, a fitted bodice and a flared skirt. The neckline had been adorned with roses, as had the seams of the bodice but Carrie wasn't really a flowery kind of person (she wasn't a pink kind of person either, but this shade wasn't too bad). She removed the roses by hand and replaced them with piping in a slightly darker shade of pink, that drew attention to the lines of the bodice and made the dress look altogether more streamlined and less flouncy.
It had taken her hours to make the piping and then sew it on but the effect was worth it; plus it helped to keep her busy now that she was unemployed. She kept a few of the roses from the dress, unpicked them and made larger roses from them, adding some pink lace and some pink feathers which she bought from the haberdashery, to fashion a hair ornament that would match the dress.
The skirts on her day dresses weren't too outlandish but the much wider, bell shaped skirts on the evening dresses took some getting used to. Though thankfully, since they were in reduced circumstances, the Hales still had to make do with petticoats under their skirts, rather than the crinoline cages which were becoming fashionable. Carrie had yet to experience a crinoline cage personally, but from Dixon's description she thought they sounded rather stupid, but then she was a girl who preferred worn jeans and baggy jumpers.
Corsets were also something Carrie was having trouble getting used to. An ill fitting corset could chafe, restrict breathing and be downright painful, so Dixon had insisted that she have her own made at the earliest opportunity, and that it was of the best quality. Thankfully the current fashion wasn't too narrow at the waist but it was still made with whale bone, which greatly restricted her movement. Bending over was impossible, which she freely admitted was good for the back, though it was also incredibly inconvenient when she dropped something on the floor.
She still had only her black boots to wear with the dress, but the skirt was so long that no one would probably even see her feet.
Her bruise was well healed by now but she wore a little mascara to emphasise her eyes, and a touch of lipstick to darken her lips very slightly. Makeup had always been a form of war paint to Carrie, something to hide behind when she needed to and right now she needed to hide, for the very idea of seeing Mr Thornton again terrified her; not so much how he would react to her but more how she would react to him after having successfully avoided him for so long.
She had tried to get out of going, arguing that someone should stay and keep Mrs Hale company, but Mrs Hale wouldn't hear if it. It seemed she wanted to live vicariously through the others and Carrie couldn't refuse without seriously upsetting a dying woman, something that she didn't particularly want on her conscience.
As they left the house, Carrie noticed the lamp lighter climbing up a ladder with his spirit torch to light the gas street lamp outside their house. She had found it strange and worrying when she first arrived here, for the light came from a naked flame rather than using a gas mantle, which resembled a light bulb and gave a much brighter light. It still made her uneasy to see the flames but she was slowly getting used to the idea that the street lights would not explode. Still, a part of her was glad that the Hales could not afford a larger house, which might well also be lit with gas. As far as Carrie was concerned, candles were enough of a risk but at least they could be easily blown out. She knew that she would probably never rest easy if the house was lit with open gas flames.
Margaret's friend, Bessy, came to see them off to the dinner party, since she was anxious to see Margaret dressed up in her finery. Carrie thought that Bessy was looking very pale for one so young and although she tried to stifle it, Carrie noticed her coughing. Her heart plummet as she watched them talk briefly, for Carrie knew from the book that it would not be very much longer now until Bessy succumbed to the cotton fluff on her lungs and died.
Margaret must have also noticed that Bessy didn't look as well as usual, for she was very subdued on the cab ride to the Thorntons. She had also been feeling guilty about going to this dinner party at all when so many in Milton were living on or below the breadline thanks to the strike, but Bessy had been insistent that Margaret go since she wanted to see her friend dressed in her London finery.
As they alighted from the cab in the mill yard, they each took one of Mr Hale's arms and he guided them into the house. Thankfully they were greeted by Mrs Thornton as Mr Thornton didn't seem to be around. They mingled with the other guests, chatting about nothing in particular and avoiding talk of the strike at all costs. Carrie was rather practised at small talk, though she didn't much enjoy it.
Carrie hadn't met many of the people who were here but Mr Hale had met a few of the mill owners through Mr Thornton. There were also two merchants and their wives, as well a gentleman named Mr
Southard,
an MP from Lampton, the next town over
. Carrie listened with interest as he, Mr Hale and one of the mill owners, Mr Slickson began a discussion on the relevance of the church in modern life.
Mr Slickson could see no role for the church, beyond keeping people in line with the threat of going to hell, but Mr Hale and Mr Southard saw that the church could act as a check against men of power abusing those beneath them. Indeed many of the more recent laws to protect workers from inhumane working conditions were proposed by some of the more devout members of parliament, thanks to their Christian conscience. Mr Southard aptly noted that without the church and the Sabbath, the working man wouldn't even have one day of rest a week.
Though she was still listening to the exchange with interest, Carrie felt rather than saw when Mr Thornton entered the room, for she felt as if she was was suddenly surrounded by static electricity. She could almost feel his eyes warming her skin as he looked at her. Unable to stop herself, she turned to him and the passion she saw in his gaze as he drank in her image made her feel light headed.
Of course, some of that might well be thanks to the rather restrictive corset on her dress but she doubted it. No man had ever made her feel like this before; so careless and carefree! She wanted to hurl herself at him and kiss him as if her life depended on it, bystanders be damned! But she didn't. Somehow she managed to smile and remain where she was.
He approached her and they shook hands. Carrie lowered her eyes suddenly feeling self-conscious under his hungry gaze.
“
I'm so glad you could come,” he said, so far completely ignoring the others to whom she had been talking.
“
Thank you.” She smiled, wishing she could think of something more interesting to say to him.
“
I was sorry to hear that Mrs Hale couldn't join us,” he said, reluctantly glancing at Mr Hale, though his gaze soon returned to Carrie.
“
She is sorry as well, but she has made Margaret and Carrie promise to give her a full account of events.” Mr Hale smiled, oblivious to Mr Thornton's interest in his ward.
“
Thornton,” Slickson interrupted their moment and Mr Thornton reluctantly let go of Carrie's hand. “Good to see you again.”
Carrie tried to listen to their conversation but more often than not, she found herself staring at Mr Thornton, thinking a lot of rather impure thoughts about what she wished he would do to her!
Finally Mr Hamper interrupted them and called Mr Thornton away, lessening her torment for a while. Mr Southard took it upon himself to introduce her and Margaret to some of those in the room who they hadn't met before and, though she was always aware of exactly where Mr Thornton was in relation to her, Carrie never looked at him.
Finally Mrs Thornton announced that dinner was served and Mr Southard escorted Margaret into the dining room, while Mr Hale escorted Carrie.