Authors: Catherine Winchester
“
It's my pleasure,” he said, relaxing, for whatever had caused her discomfort earlier, her smile seemed genuine now. “I wasn't sure if you had said anything to the Hales yet, so I though it best to speak to you in private.”
“
No, I haven't said anything yet in case they object.”
“
Come by the mill about ten tomorrow morning and I'll go through the details with you.”
On impulse she stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek. She knew that the job might be unsuitable but right now, she didn't care. He had helped her and she was grateful.
Mr Thornton watched as she almost skipped off down the hall. Her lips seemed to have warmed his flesh where she had kissed his cheek and he found himself unable to follow her for a moment. That was very forward of her, no doubt, and very unladylike indeed but it had been so heartfelt, not to mention welcome, that he couldn't think ill of her for it. She turned back to him as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes asking whether he was coming or not.
He rediscovered the ability to walk and followed her up the stairs to the parlour.
After the greetings were done with and everyone had taken a seat, Dixon brought a tea tray in. Carrie smiled as Mr Thornton watched Margaret while she served the tea, seemingly fascinated with the bracelet that kept falling down her arm as she poured.
'This is it!'
Carrie thought.
'He's falling in love.'
Mr Hale and Mr Thornton began discussing the power loom and Carrie listened with interest. The mechanism used to separate the threads was ingenious and the idea of using heedles and heedle bars to separate and lift different strands of the weft was so simple, yet something she would probably never have thought of herself in a million years.
“
Fascinating,” she said softly, causing both men to turn and look at her. “Don't you think, Margaret?” she asked the other woman, embarrassed to have spoken aloud and drawn their attention.
“
Sorry? Oh yes, very interesting,” Margaret said. Clearly she hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation, though she did rise to refill the tea cups.
Carrie was feeling quite put out with Margaret. No wonder it took her so long to like Mr Thornton, because she was so bloody indifferent to him that she didn't have a chance to get to know him. Still, Mr Thornton seemed smitten, watching with interest while her father used Margaret's index finger and thumb as sugar tongs.
She felt a pang of jealousy, until he looked in her direction and smiled warmly at her. A moment later she felt a pang of dread. What if he liked her more than Margaret?
She forced herself to smile back. He was just being polite, that's all. Margaret was the one for him, there was no doubt in her mind.
“
Margaret has recently started embroidering a lovely piece of cambric for her cousin Edith's baby,” Carrie said, trying to induce Margaret to join the conversation. “It is lovely work, but I dare say she wouldn't mind technology like your loom to make it easier for her,”
“
Nonsense,” Margaret chimed in. “It is the very fact that it is handmade which makes it so special. Were it mass produced on a machine, it would not be made with nearly the same care and attention to detail.”
Catching Mr Thornton's rather offended look following Margaret's words, Carrie decided that perhaps she was better off keeping her mouth shut.
“
I'm sure it's lovely,” Mr Thornton told Margaret, managing to keep a civil tongue in his head.
“
Yes, well,” Mr Hale seemed to have picked up on the insult even if Margaret still looked blissfully oblivious to the offence she had caused. He swiftly moved the conversation on so Carrie picked up some knitting and set about completing it. She wasn't very good, Mrs Hale had only taught her a few weeks ago but at least mistakes she made could be unpicked, so she wasn't wasting materials. She kept her eyes focused intently on her work, even if she couldn't help her ears listening to Mr Thornton's conversation.
She felt his eyes on her occasionally and the one time she was unable to resist glancing up, the look she saw on his face quite made her shiver with desire. Mark had never made her feel like that, she thought, hastily averting her eyes and squeezing her thighs together to ease some of the tension she felt.
She listened as Margaret defended the south, listened as Mr Thornton explained about his childhood, his father dying and finding himself head of the family at only sixteen years of age. Finally Carrie was unable to remain focused on her knitting, so she put the work aside and looked up at him. He was matter of fact about his past, asking not for pity or sympathy but simply claiming his due as a self-made man. She smiled at him, wanting him to know that she liked him for his honesty.
Finally he rose to leave, shaking hands with Mr Hale, Mrs Hale and Carrie, but when he made the same gesture to Margaret she was not expecting it and bowed instead. Thinking that he had been snubbed, Mr Thornton's features clouded once again and he left. Fearing his anger, Carrie followed him.
“
Please,” she said as he stopped by the front door to put his coat on. “Don't think badly of Margaret, she's not used to shaking hands with people and she wasn't prepared for it. She didn't mean any offence.”
“
And yet that seems to be all she causes.”
“
Mr Thornton, I know that Margaret can appear haughty but she is not, really, she's just not used to your ways up here. Underneath that somewhat imposing exterior is a heart of gold, and she will be very upset at the thought that she's offended you.”
“
Tell me, Miss Preston, you are also from the south, are you not?”
“
Yes, I was born in London.”
“
And until now, have you spent any time in the north?”
“
Um,” she was rather confused by this line of questioning. “I went skiing in Aviemore once, in Scotland.”
“
Skiing?”
“
Yes, it's a kind of sport.”
“
Yes, well, Scotland may be to the north but it is its own country. You have never been to the north of England before then?”
“
No, I don't think so.”
“
So you are a southerner who has no experience of the north, and yet you have adapted to our ways with relative ease.”
“
No, I...” Oh dear, this was not going well. “I've spent a lot of time abroad so I'm used to different cultures, but Margaret has been rather sheltered.”
Mr Thornton was starting to look angry again, but this time with Carrie.
“
Miss Preston, you can defend Miss Hale until the cows come home (there's a nice northern saying for you) but I speak as I find and so far, I find her to be of a most disagreeable disposition.”
He put his hat on his head, opened the front door and walked out. To her relief he paused and turned back.
“
Good evening,” he said graciously, all traces of anger gone from his voice.
“
Good night, Mr Thornton.” She smiled, pleased that she seemed to have been forgiven.
She closed and locked the door behind him and with a sigh, returned to the sitting room. She arrived just in time to hear Margaret say “Papa, I do think Mr. Thornton a very remarkable man; but personally I do not like him at all.”
“
You don't know him at all,” Carrie snapped at her.
“
And you do?” Margaret asked.
“
Yes! Not well, obviously, at least not yet but I can see beyond the tradesman to the fair and just man underneath and if you can't, then you are letting your prejudices show.”
“
That is hardly fair,” Margaret complained.
“
Maybe not,” Carrie agreed. “But no less fair than you judging him without getting to know him first.”
All of the Hales were staring at her and she blushed.
“
I'm sorry,” Carrie sighed. “I shouldn't have said that. I think I'll go to bed now, it's been a long day.”
She bid them goodnight and headed up to her bedroom, hoping that she had not just alienated them by being rude to their daughter. Mr Hale would understand, wouldn't he?
Chapter Four
The next morning Carrie was eager to apologise to Margaret at the first opportunity, which thankfully came early as they shared a room and awoke around the same time.
“
Margaret, I'm sorry about what I said last night.”
“
Don't be,” Margaret said. “My father informs me that you were right.”
“
I'm sure you'd like Mr Thornton, if only you gave him a chance.”
“
It will not be easy,” Margaret said with a sigh. “Manufacturing is a rough business, and his stance of being at war with his workers is one that I simply cannot agree with but as I said to father, I will try to be more understanding at future meetings.”
That was enough for Carrie, at least for now and she set about her morning routine.
Her toothbrush was made from a bone handle with badger hair bristles, and her toothpaste was a mixture of bicarbonate of soda and chalk. It tasted foul but she supposed it did the job. Thankfully she had managed to acquire a little peppermint oil and before dabbing her brush in the powder, she added a few drops of oil to the bristles. It was no Colgate but it was better than nothing.
After she had dressed, Dixon put her hair up for her, then Carrie headed down to breakfast and chatted with Mr and Mrs Hale until Margaret joined them. She did not tell them that she was seeing Mr Thornton about a job today because she felt it was better to present it to them as a done deal. She also did not want to jinx herself because whatever this job was, she didn't have it yet.
When Mr Hale asked what their plans for the day were, Margaret informed him she was going to see Bessy, the young girl she had met from the Princeton district. Carrie told him that she was planning to take a walk and hoping to explore some new areas of the town.
Before she left, she went back up to her room and pulled her handbag out from under her bed. She had not worn makeup since she had arrived here, but today she felt that she needed a little additional courage. She dabbed a little concealer under her eyes, patted her complexion down with powder and added just a tiny bit of mascara to her eyelashes. Makeup was not common here and if she wore too much, she would stick out like a clown in a church.
She got her jewellery out of her purse and considered wearing it, since it also gave her courage. She had noticed however, that gemstones were not common in this time, diamonds especially. So she left her solitaire earrings, ring and pendant in her purse and put on only the small amethyst earrings that her aunt had left her. She did slip her artificial diamond horse brooch into her purse though, so that it was with her even if she couldn't wear it. It was her good luck charm.
When she had remembered her aunt's words about the earrings, it had occurred to her that they might be responsible for this freaky situation that she now found herself in, and she had removed them immediately in the hopes that she might return to her time. It hadn't worked and although she had many theories as to why she was trapped in this fictional world, she still had no answers.
Finally ready, she put her makeup away in her handbag and slipped it back under her bed, alongside her rucksack that housed her Uni books and laptop.
She began humming to herself as she walked to the mill, for music always calmed her. She missed her CD player. Her mobile phone had some music on and she did have headphones for it, but she knew she would quickly wear the battery down if she used it, so she settled for humming. Perhaps one day she could afford a piano, then she could play all her favourite music.
As she approached the mill she grew nervous, and she paused outside to wipe her damp palms on her skirt.
“
Wish me luck,” she said softly to her aunt, looking to the heavens. Then she took a deep breath, mustering as much courage as she could, and strode through the mill yard and into the offices.
Mr Thornton's door was open and as he heard her enter, he came through to greet her, ushering her into his office and closing the door behind them.
“
How are you?” he asked.
“
I'm fine, thank you. I hope you're not still upset about last night?”
“
I'm not,” he confirmed. “But I should not have been sharp with you, it was not you that I was upset with.”
Knowing that he hadn't liked it when she defended Margaret last night, Carrie didn't try again and let the matter drop. Mr Thornton gestured to the chair opposite his desk and Carrie sat down.
“
So, Mr Thornton, what's this job you have heard about?”
“
Actually you would be working for me.”
“
For you?” She hadn't counted on that.
“
Is that a problem?” he asked, sounding hurt at her surprise.
“
No, not at all. I'm just... well I am a little surprised that you require someone. I had been led to believe that your mill was one of the most efficient in the town.” Okay, that wasn't strictly true, but she had to cover her surprise somehow. The truth was that she was already madly in love with Mr Thornton, and working with him every day would be torture.
“
We are, but I find that the office work is running behind in some areas. It would be helpful to have someone to do the tasks I haven't found the time to do.”