A Life Together - A North and South Continuation

Chapter Nine

As he watched the door to the library close, John felt an unpleasant sort of tension in his stomach. He recognised it well, having felt it's vicious stab many times. Jealousy. It tore at him as easily as a knife through cotton. He did not like that about himself; how easily that emotion seemed to come to him. It was a wasteful, indulgent thing and he did not care for it.

He did not care for jealousy because, though he would not admit it to himself, it made him feel weak. He was not intimidated by a man like Henry Lennox; somebody who thought old family money and a university education made one better than everyone else. John remembered Henry Lennox well; he had gone over meeting Margaret at the Exhibition a thousand times in his head. Each time, Henry Lennox's sneer had been repeated in his mind - becoming exaggerated over time, eventually bearing no resemblance to the real Henry Lennox at all.

Many a night he lay in bed, wondering if Henry Lennox would be the man who won Margaret's heart. It was a strange thing to think, as he had met him so briefly and knew little of Margaret's connection to him. However, he knew that Lennox was her cousin's brother-in-law, and that familial connection was bound to be a strong one. That was enough to set fear in him.

That thought had mercifully not come true. Margaret had never been a prize to be won, and she had instead offered her love to John as not a prize but as a gift. John had given her his own love long, long ago. There was never any hope of loving anybody else.

"You mustn't mind Henry." Edith said cheerfully, cutting into John's thoughts.

He turned to look at her, his eyes finally moving from the door. She was smiling; she had a kind face, Margaret's cousin. She did not resemble Aunt Shaw much, but perhaps that was simply because she was looking upon John with something other than apathy.

"I don't mind him." John told her sharply, the words catching in his throat. He cursed himself as he noticed the wince on Edith's face at his tone. He sighed. "I'm sorry, I have been very rude, sitting here in silence. My thoughts are preoccupied."

Edith's eyes darted to the door. John was sure she knew full well why his mind was so distracted, but she merely smiled serenely and changed the subject.

"How went your meetings today? Migs spoke of the mill and all its workings to me today, she is most enthusiastic about your trade!"

John could not help but smile at the revelation of Margaret's apparent childhood nickname. He wondered, though, how much Margaret really understood of the workings of the mill. She had only been inside the mill very briefly while it was open, and John knew that she knew little of the intricacies of trade.

He hoped she would try and learn. He did not believe in shutting women out from business. Indeed, his mother had been an invaluable asset to him. She had a sharp, unrelenting way about her but she could show a feminine kindness or two when driven to it. Men as masters with no woman around them, he found, generally lacked any empathy at all.

His mind was distracted; he was constantly listening to hear any part of the conversation from the hallway. He could hear only muffled voices.

A silence settled between them. John did not truly know what to say to somebody like Edith; in truth he knew very little of her life. He had never been in the military so knew little of her live as the wife of a Captain, nor had he ever lived in London. There must be some common ground between them, he thought.

"Tell me, Mr Thornton, about the cotton trade." Edith said after a while.

Whatever the common ground, John knew it was not cotton.

"What about it? There is rather a lot to say about it."

If Edith was taken aback by his brisk manner of speaking, she did not show it. Instead, she shrugged, smiling as broadly as ever. Surely it was impossible for someone to be so happy.