Authors: Catherine Winchester
The opera was the Barber of Seville. Carrie knew only a little about it since though she loved music, she claimed no great knowledge of opera. She made sure to take Mr Hale's arm when they arrived at the theatre so that Mr Southard could escort Margaret inside, and then she proceeded to ask Mr Hale many questions about the opera so as to keep him occupied.
Mr Hale happily explained the plot to her while they had drinks before the performance started, which allowed Margaret and Mr Southard a chance to talk.
After the play, Mr Southard took them to a local hotel for dinner and Carrie suggested that they walk there since it wasn't far. She made sure to keep Mr Hale engaged in conversation while they walked, so that he didn't notice how far behind Margaret and Mr Southard were falling, though they always remained in sight.
By the time they took a carriage home at the end of the evening, Margaret looked flushed with pleasure and though she envied Margaret her happiness, Carrie was pleased for her.
Unlike Mr Thornton, Mr Southard was a gentleman, the son of a Duke and educated at Eton. His elder brother was to inherit the title and family estate, so Bernard had chosen politics as his vocation in life. He was perfect for Margaret in that he was gentry, wealthy and had a social conscience. Carrie could hardly have written a more sublime match for her, and she supposed that was why Elizabeth Gaskell hadn't written Mr Southard as Margaret's mate, for there was no dramatic tension in perfection.
While Mr Hale dozed in the carriage, Margaret and Carrie softly discussed the evening, whispering to each other like a pair of schoolgirls. It seemed that the psychic had been correct, and Margaret would indeed find happiness with a politician.
“
I must write to Mr Southard tomorrow and thank him for such a pleasant evening.” Mr Hale said as they entered the house. “Why, I don't remember the last time I had such a delightful evening. And the performance was enchanting, don't you agree?”
“
Yes, Papa,” Margaret smiled.
“
Mr Southard is such a congenial fellow,” Mr Hale continued.
“
Isn't he?” Carrie asked rhetorically, flashing a sly smile at Margaret behind Mr Hales back, and causing the other girl to blush.
“
Indeed.” Mr Hale turned to them once he had hung up his hat and coat. “Well, it is rather late so I think I shall retire to bed. Goodnight.” He leaned down so both girls could kiss his cheek in turn.
“
Goodnight, Father,” Margaret said after she had kissed him.
“
Sleep well,” Carrie said.
Though they were far too excited to sleep, the girls headed to bed as well, though Carrie stayed in Margaret's bedroom as they talked into the wee small hours, gossiping about Mr Southard.
Carrie usually got up in her own time in the mornings, so it was something of a surprise when Carrie awoke to find Dixon gently shaking her shoulder, though she assumed that she must have fallen asleep in Margaret's bed and Dixon was waking her to return to her own room. Either that or she had overslept, since they were awake until late the night before.
“
Dixon?” she asked, as she rubbed her eyes. She realised that she had made it back to her own room before falling asleep last night. “What time is it?”
“
Still early, Miss, not yet seven, Miss,” Dixon said.
Carrie's heart sank as she came awake enough to take in Dixon's grief stricken countenance.
Chapter Seventeen
Carrie listened as Dixon hurriedly and quietly explained why she was here, though Carrie thought that she already had a good idea what brought the servant into her room at this ungodly hour of the morning.
“
See I always bring Mr Hale some warm water at this time, since he is such an early riser but this morning he was still sound asleep.”
“
Oh no,” she sighed.
“
I tried to wake him but he won't wake, Miss. He just lies there, looking to the whole world as if he's sound asleep.”
Carrie swiftly got out of bed and as quietly as they could, they made their way along the hallway to Mr Hale's bedroom. While Mr Hale did indeed look peaceful, his face was so pale that Carrie didn't think for a moment that he was merely sleeping. She approached the bed and touched her fingers to his neck. Not only was there no pulse, he was cool to the touch, meaning that he had been dead for some time.
“
I don't think he suffered,” Carrie told Dixon, who hovered in the doorway, her handkerchief clutched in her hands. “Whatever happened, it was swift and wasn't enough to waken him.”
Dixon nodded. “Should I wake Miss Margaret?” Dixon asked.
“
No,” Carrie said, moving to join Dixon by the door. “We were up late last night, gossiping, so she needs her rest, and this might be the last true rest she gets for a while.”
Dixon nodded her agreement.
“
Let's you and I go downstairs and have a cup of tea.”
All the servants were fond of Mr Hale and both the girls took it hard. Cook hadn't come for the day yet, but she hadn't known Mr Hale very well so she would probably take the news of his death the easiest of all.
Carrie and Dixon listened as the younger servants shared stories of Mr Hale, how kind he had been to them, or perhaps when he had been a little absent minded, or had made them laugh. He was such an easy going gentleman and far different to any man the servants had known before. Men in the north tended to be hard and driven, while Mr Hale always seemed relaxed and often had a slightly scatterbrained air about him.
They could hear when Margaret awoke, since her bedroom was above the kitchen and her faint footfalls could be heard above them. Carrie made to stand up but Dixon placed a hand on her arm.
“
I've known her the longest, Miss. It should be me.”
Since Dixon had awoken her, Carrie had assumed that she didn't want to tell Margaret the news herself, but she was right, she had known Margaret since she was a child and the news might be easier coming from Dixon.
“
If you're sure,” Carrie said.
“
I am.”
When she had gone, Carrie turned to the other two servants.
“
I wonder if one of you would be so good as to fetch Doctor Donaldson for us, please? Tell him there is no rush. Your usual duties are suspended for the moment, so please just do your best to see to Miss Margaret's needs and assist Cook with any help she might require. In fact I'm sure only one of you need be here at a time, so if you would like to take this opportunity to visit your families, that's fine. Your wages won't be docked.”
“
Thank you, Miss.” they answered in unison.
They were both good girls who had an excellent work ethic and who could be trusted, so Carrie had no qualms about them abusing her charity. Besides, the house was in mourning, somehow dusting the crystal and beating the rugs just seemed far too pedestrian to be done at a time like this.
Carrie left them to it, wanting to see how Margaret was fairing. She found her in Dixon's arms, the maid softly crooning to her as she held Margaret in her arms.
Not wanting to intrude, Carrie went to her room and cried in private for a few moments, before dressing for the day and heading downstairs to await Dr Donaldson. The next few weeks were going to be hard on all of them, so Carrie had to stay strong.
Bad news always travels fast and so it was with a heavy heart that Higgins, having heard the news himself from one of the cart drivers, approached Mr Thornton at eleven that morning.
“
Mr Hale? Dead?” Mr Thornton asked, seemingly unable to process the news.
“
Aye. Went in his sleep apparently.”
“
What of Miss Hale and Miss Preston?”
“
Miss Hale's in a state by all accounts, though Miss Preston seems composed.”
'But she isn't,'
Mr Thornton thought.
'She's being strong because she has to be for Margaret's sake, but who is there for her when she needs someone to lean on?'
“
Master?”
“
Sorry, what did you say?”
“
I said Mary and I were thinking of going round this evening, if you'd like to come with us.”
“
I fear I would not be welcome at such a time. Miss Hale is no great friend and Miss Preston's feelings towards me are less than cordial. I fear that seeing me would offer them no comfort and might even make them feel worse.”
“
Nonsense,” Higgins said. “No one cares for petty grievances at times like these. They'll be glad to see you. Both of 'em.”
“
Maybe,” John nodded, accepting his reasoning. “Perhaps I'll go round and see them this afternoon, see if there's anything I can do.”
Higgins shrugged, not unduly bothered that Mr Thornton hadn't taken him up on his offer.
“
Well, I just thought you should know,” Higgins said. “I'd best get on.”
“
Right,” Mr Thornton acknowledged, though it seemed clear that his mind was elsewhere. He walked back across the courtyard to the office and sat behind his desk, steepling his hands under his chin as he thought.
He went back and forth, mulling over various ideas, rejecting them only to rethink, dust them off and consider them again.
Finally he reached a decision and, dipping his nib into his ink well, he began composing a letter.
“
Miss Preston!”
Carrie turned at the sound of her name and felt her heart skip a beat as she saw Mr Thornton jogging across the road to catch up with her.
“
Miss Preston, how are you?” he asked as he finally stopped in front of her.
“
Fine, thank you. I'm keeping busy which is helping.”
“
Where are you off to?” he asked, wondering where she was heading. She was dressed from head to toe in black, which made her already pale complexion look positively translucent, and highlighted the dark circles under her eyes.
“
The funeral home,” she answered, as though it was obvious.
“
Mr Hale only died this morning?”
“
Yes, I know, but it has to be done at sometime and right now I feel rather numb, so it's probably best to make the arrangements before I turn into a basket case.”
“
Then allow me to accompany you.”
“
There's really no need,” she insisted.
“
I think there is. I think that Mr Hale would be shocked and appalled at my behaviour if I let a young, grieving woman attend a funeral home on her own.”
Carrie should have said no, but right now she didn't have the strength, so she took his elbow and allowed him to escort her.
“
How is Miss Hale handling the news?” he asked.
“
Well, under the circumstances. I believe she is numb also.”
“
Will you write to her brother?” he asked.
“
I have been wondering about that. I know he would rush home and I'm sure he would be a great comfort to Margaret, but I am equally sure that if he should be caught, that would be a calamity. I'm not sure Margaret could recover if Fred were to be hanged. She would have lost her entire family within a year.”
“
I think perhaps you are right,” he said. “It might please you to know that I have written to Mr Hale's old friend, Mr Bell. He has often spoken to me about the Hales with much warmth, and he was the one who put Mr Hale in touch with me in the first place. I'm sure he will hurry to be with Margaret at this difficult time.”
“
Oh, that would be marvellous.” she smiled up at him looking relieved and grateful. “Thank you, Mr Thornton, that was very thoughtful of you.”
“
Will you not call me John?” he asked.
“
Thank you, John.”
“
Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.
“
I'm fine, honestly. Sending for someone to comfort Margaret was more than enough.”
“
But who is to comfort you?” he asked, stopping and turning to face her.
“
I need no comfort, Mr Thornton. Really, I have hardly known Mr Hale any time at all. Dixon has more right to be upset than I.”
“
But you cared for him, I know you did, and you have every right to grieve for him; just as much right as Margaret and Dixon.”
She began to cry, her tears silently falling over her cheeks. Mr Thornton withdrew his handkerchief and gently wiped them away for her.
“
You are too kind, John,” she said, struggling to get her emotions back in check. She didn't like to look weak in front of him.
Mr Thornton smiled softly at her.
“
It's nothing more than you deserve,” he assured her. Knowing that she was uncomfortable, he handed her his handkerchief and turned in the direction they had been heading. She took his elbow again, and they continued walking in silence until they reached the funeral parlour.
Once inside, the funeral director, Mr Helman, was most solicitous and offered Margaret all the time she needed to make a decision. Realising that she should confirm things with Margaret, or at the very least Dixon, before she committed to anything, she thanked him for his time and assured him that she would return as soon as she knew what the family wanted.
Having helped her to arrange Mrs Hale's funeral, Mr Helman knew she was a woman of her word and was quite content that she would get back to him in a reasonable length of time.