Chapter 2 Passages in Time #10
“Yes, in a way. I came here because I was dying, and this place saved my life. In the nineteenth century, I had done nothing remarkable except to be born and start to die. Nothing I did was of great importance. So, when I came here, nothing seemed to have been affected, except that I lived. Maybe my action of great importance is showing you how to go back and making sure MJ goes with you,” Bessy said.
“But that is not all you are saying. You are saying I have to go back and marry Mr. Thornton.” MJ said.
“Would that be so terrible, Miss Hale?” Mr. Thornton asked.
“No, I don’t mean to imply that. But I barely know you and, while I might fancy the pants off you, that is a mile away from marriage. Bessy, is that what must happen?” MJ said.
“Yes, that and have children. I can offer you no facts or evidence, it is purely my hypothesis. You must go back and be Margaret Hale to save your future self.”
“I can’t just leave. What about my brother?”
“If I am right and you don’t go back – your brother will not exist.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. So, I’d be saving his life too?”
Bessy nodded. “I really think you would. This is a lot to take in. You look tired, you should rest. I will return tomorrow. If you agree with me then, there will be things that we will need to do. You can’t return to nineteenth-century Milton dressed like that.”
MJ stared down at her pyjamas. “No, I suppose not.”
“Mr. Thornton – come and show me out,” Bessy Higgins said.
Once they were downstairs in the hallway, she spoke again.
“MJ is in danger. She must not be alone, Mr. Thornton. If she collapses again, she may die. Despite what your moral compass tells you, it is important that you do not leave her tonight. She may laugh at being kissed awake by Prince Charming, but I think your kiss may be what lies between her and death. Keep her close.”
He nodded. “I want to believe you, Miss Higgins. I would like nothing more than to have Miss Hale return with me – I love her.”
“I know you do – I never saw you look at another woman like you look at her. Remember, I know how the women of Milton were after you – all of the eligible gentry and a fair few in the lower classes. Now, go and stay with her.”
“Goodnight, Miss Higgins, and thank you,” he said, opening the door for her.
“Goodnight, Mr. Thornton.”
He returned swiftly to Miss Hale’s bedroom. She was leant back against the pillows, her eyes closed.
“Miss Hale?” he said, worried that she had become unconscious again.
“It is all right, I am awake. What did you and Bessy talk about at the door?”
“She said I was not to leave you alone.”
“She didn’t tell you to persuade me to go with you when you leave?”
“No, Miss Hale. And if she had, I would not do that. Only you can decide if you think what she says is true.”
“I don’t know what to believe, really. It is strange; even before she said anything, I had the oddest sensation about the kiss – as though it were the kiss of life.”
“I didn’t think that. I just thought that if it was to be the only time we were to kiss, I wanted to remember every detail of it.”
“Is it to be the only time we are to kiss?”
“I don’t know – I hope not, but the decision has to be yours, Miss Hale.”
“Margaret. When I woke, you were calling me Margaret. If I am to be your wife, Mr. Thornton, you must call me Margaret.”
“And are you to be my wife, Margaret?”
“I am still not certain. I am very much of my time. No matter how much I love and know about your time, nothing can prepare me for it, and then I have to forget all I know about my own time.” She looked at him, standing so quietly, listening to what she said.
It was obvious he wanted to beg her to go with him, but he would not voice what he wanted, of that she was certain.
He was an honourable man; in his eyes, the decision had to be hers.
“Perhaps if you were to kiss me again, it would help me make my decision.” She patted the bed as she spoke. “Come here, Mr. Thornton – John.”
He should have been shocked by her boldness, but instead he was bewitched. “Does this mean you are coming home with me?” he said, lowering himself to her side on the bed.
“Kiss me and then I will tell you.”
This kiss was different from the first they had shared, more urgent. If the first had warmed her, this inflamed her. Who would have thought that behind his dignified Victorian image lurked such passion?
“Margaret, my Margaret – please say you will return with me, for you are the other part of me and I cannot live without you.”
“If you promise to stay with me tonight, in my world and my time, then I will come with you to yours when you return.”
“You mean lie with you in the same bed.”
“I do. I need to feel your arms around me. I need to sink into your embrace. I need to be touched by you and in turn be free to touch you.”
His mouth went dry at her words. “You wish me to love you – in the most complete way.”
She smiled. She would never tire of his strange way of phrasing things. “Yes, John, I want you to make love to me. I know when I return with you tomorrow that society will demand we are more circumspect. So I am asking for this one night.”
How could he refuse her when she was giving up the life she knew? The answer was: he couldn’t.
Chapter Ten
The first thing MJ noticed was the acrid smell of burnt timber and cotton, but there were no flames or smoke.
They had not emerged in an inferno. Her eyes moved up towards the roof of this part of the mill.
It had been completely destroyed, leaving what remained of the building open to the elements.
They both moved slowly about, surveying the destruction.
As MJ walked among the ashes of the cotton bales, she noticed a small clay pipe, blackened with soot, on the floor.
Picking it up, she wondered at its importance and was about to ask John’s opinion when she saw his expression as he turned in a circle, taking in the damage.
“It can be rebuilt – it will be rebuilt,” she said, walking towards him.
He nodded and squeezed her hand. “I know it will. We have made it back – just as Miss Higgins thought we would.”
“Yes, we have.”
Bessy had returned, as she said she would, that morning.
When MJ told her she was going back with John, she had helped find clothing and an appropriate bag so that Margaret should look the part.
She had gone with them to the mill and watched as they had walked through the large door to the cotton store.
Had Bessy been tempted to return, Margaret wondered.
Somehow, she thought not. In her bag was a letter to Nicholas Higgins, to be posted from some warm sunny place, explaining that Bessy was alive and well in a healthier climate.
MJ had promised that she and John would travel abroad and post it so Nicholas would know she was well.
“Do you have any regrets, Margaret?” John asked.
“How could I? I have walked through the passage and am here, alive and well. I have to believe this is meant to be. Besides, I am with you – and I love you. I will need your help to adjust to my new life.”
“You will be fine – after all, you are a student of this era.”
“I suspect reality will be very different from books.”
“I will be here at your side.” He brought her hand to his lips as he spoke and brushed a kiss against them. “When we leave here, I will not be able to touch you as I wish – not before we are married.”
“Best kiss me now, before we leave this place,” she said, moving into his arms.
“I never thought I would say this, but you are wearing too many clothes. I cannot feel you as I could yesterday.”
“It’s the layers, women wear more here. This outfit weighs a ton.”
Their kiss was brief, for they knew they must leave the dilapidated storeroom. They pushed the door open and peered cautiously into the mill yard. It was deserted. John pulled his watch from his pocket – eight p.m. – the shift had finished for the day. Taking her hand, he led her towards his home.
“Wait a moment, John. Do I look all right?”
“You look perfect. Please don’t worry; when my mother realises that you have helped me, she will think the world of you.”
They climbed the steps to the mansion house. “At this time of night, the door will be locked,” John said, knocking on the door.
The door was opened by an astonished footman. “Mr. Thornton, sir – you’re alive! We thought you had perished in the fire.”
“No, I did not. Is my mother at home, Billings?”
“Yes sir, she has just finished dinner – some of the other mill owners are here….”
“Like vultures, they have come to circle the carcass of Marlborough Mills,” John murmured to MJ. “We’ll go up, Billings. Please be good enough to inform the rest of the staff that I have returned and am safe and well.”
“Yes sir, I will.”
“I hope your mother is of a strong constitution,” MJ said. “The shock of seeing you will be enormous.”
“My mother will cope; she is a formidable woman, as you will see.”
MJ was not sure if she liked the sound of John’s formidable mother, but she had no time to worry about meeting her as he was climbing the stairs.
“Mr. Thornton,” she called out, remembering to use his surname as time and convention would expect. “You may want this.” She held out the small clay pipe.
“Where did you find this?”
“In the cotton store; it was on the floor by a blackened cotton bale. It’s evidence, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
At the top of the stairs, he paused outside the doors to the drawing room. “Are you ready, Miss Hale?”
“Yes, Mr. Thornton.”
“Are you sure of the story that we are giving to explain my sudden reappearance?”
“Yes, I am.”