Shadow in the North

Chapter Fifty-Four - Healing and Hoping

It was after an absence of fourteen days that Mr Thornton finally returned to Milton. He was tired and cold, and would have wished for nothing more than a hot meal and a long sleep in a warm bed, were it not for his battered heart. He had regretted leaving Isabel, no sooner than he had boarded his packet to Le Havre, and each day parted from her had been a torture to him. He had told himself - upon determining to see to his business in Le Havre - that it would help both Isabel and himself, to have some time apart, so that their tempers might cool. In truth, his had cooled the moment he had destroyed the infirmary, but when he had gone to his wife that afternoon, and found that Isabel would not - could not - look at him, he had felt sick to his stomach. He had felt unworthy of her notice, let alone her regard, and he had thought to take himself off, to spare her the pain of having to look at him; and similarly, to punish himself for his evil, hateful words of blame, by rending himself from his beloved.

But on the crossing to Le Havre - the cold winds clawing at him, and making his chest tight with each inhalation of icy, biting breath - he had come to see that his foolish, selfish actions, had punished his whole family. He - he knew his punishment was being parted from son and wife, and he felt he readily deserved it, but as he stood alone, sailing further from those he wished to be closest to, he realised that Isabel would feel abandoned. That her turning her face away had been the feisty indignation of a tortured soul, but not a lasting reproach; that where she turned from him one evening, she might very well wish to cling to him the next. And his mother; such a burden to bear! And she had lost a grandchild! It was not mother and father's grief, alone! Then he thought of his son, and his eyes stung with tears, for he craved that little life as a balm.

Foolish though he thought it was, Mr Thornton felt he had formed a bond with his infant son, that first day of holding him; of keeping him close by. It pained him to think that now he would be forgot; a stranger to the babe. It was son and wife he thought of, as he lay in bed each night. He would wish for nothing more than to lie beside Isabel - their son between them - and revel in the life their love had made, whilst quietly remembering and honouring the life that had not survived.

But the weather was poor, and it took him an extra day to reach Le Havre, than he had hoped. Then his business did drag on, with endless meetings and some three days of negotiations with a major buyer. He had been one day from boarding the boat back to England, when an acquaintance claimed his time, on some matter of business for his brother, Watson.

Watson's broker of raw cotton had delayed Mr Thornton, and told him that Watson could no longer be supplied; his mill having been out of action some four months, due to the fire. Mr Thornton had insisted that Watson's mill had been operational for the past month, and orders held in hand, but the supplier was weary of receiving payment, from what he now considered a "new" mill; so many of Watson's clients, having been snatched up by competitors, whilst his mill was being re-built. A whole day was lost in negotiations with the supplier, only for the man to refuse to do business with Watson, until the end of the quarter, and so - although he was loath to do it, and for the sake of his sister, Fanny - Mr Thornton had delayed his return to Milton. He spent the following day meeting with his own suppliers, to see if they would do business with his brother. Mr Thornton's word was gold, and the complication was remedied, but now he was two days late in leaving Le Havre, and the weather grew poor.

The high winds and snow made travel arduous, and so it not until the evening of the fourteenth night from home, that Mr Thornton arrived in Milton, on the final train from London. Ignoring the chill, he did not wait for a carriage - which would be slow, due to the icy conditions - but walked home as fast as he could, without slipping. Hastily pulling off his great coat, his heart beating wildly with nervous anticipation, he bounded up the stairs and into the drawing room, hoping to find his wife. But Isabel had gone to her room to nurse their son, and so he was greeted only by a startled Mrs Thornton.