Margaret of the North (55 page)

After a few minutes, Margaret
looked up from her book, saw both misery and regret on her friend's face and,
somewhat contrite, said more mildly.  "I have no interest in Dr. Hartley
except in his capacity as a doctor in a clinic I am invested in and as my
daughter's physician.  I love my husband very much, everyone can see
that."

Catherine stayed silent, studying
her hands, unable to look at Margaret who, seeing Catherine too overcome to
talk, attempted some levity in her next remark.  "We must get the good
doctor to notice the pretty face behind those freckles.  Perhaps, he would then
see the good mind behind the face and the warm heart that beats within that
chest."

Dropping her face on her hands,
Catherine began to sob although hardly any sound came out of her and her body
quivered almost imperceptibly.  Margaret, flabbergasted at what she had wrought
in her friend, sat and watched her for a few moments.  Then, unable to bear her
suffering, she pulled her chair next to Catherine's and placed an arm around
her shoulders.  "I think that Dr. Hartley has not been tempted by any of
those pretty young women who invite him into their parlors, rich though they
are, because he requires a good mind and an energetic spirit—precisely what you
have and what most of those other women do not.  He is himself heir to a
fortune in America so he is very likely indifferent to wealth."

Margaret was uneasy speculating
in this manner to Catherine but what else could she say?  She had suspected,
for some time, that Catherine harbored tender sentiments for the doctor but she
did not realize, until now, how strongly Catherine felt.  She understood, at
that moment, why Catherine was compelled to probe into how she regarded Dr.
Hartley.  Having known hopelessness, herself—even for the relatively short
period that she believed John no longer cared for her—she could empathize with
Catherine's misery.  She wished she could lift her out of it but she could not
summon other words that would help.  All she could do was wait for Catherine to
regain her composure.

Catherine soon calmed down and
dried her face thoroughly with a handkerchief she pulled out of a pocket in her
skirt.  She turned to Margaret, "I am sorry.  Now you have seen my heart
which I did not really mean to reveal to you.  You will not tell anyone about
this?"

"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?