The Journey Home

Chapter 57 A Return Home

It was early evening when John and Margaret arrived at Marlborough Mills. As the carriage pulled into the yard, John saw the frail light from the windows of the cold, granite block of a house, which could only mean one thing: his mother had returned to the house and was awaiting their arrival. The light had not gone unnoticed by Margaret. She began to nervously twist her soft brown gloves in her hands. "Apparently my mother has come home from Fanny's." John scowled as he spoke. Would his mother ever listen to reason? Margaret drew a quick breath, as she was hoping to delay her encounter with Mrs Thornton until morning. "It would not surprise me to hear that my mother and sister parted ways shortly after our departure." He continued, but sensing Margaret's disappointment, he quickly kissed her on the forehead and took her hand. "Come along, my love. It's been a long journey and you must be tired. We will keep this short."
"Does your mother never tire?" Margaret sighed, the question being more to herself .
"Never." John answered. Margaret shook her head. "Mothers and sons!" she exclaimed, all too knowingly. "Yes, and One day, you shall enjoy the same bond with our son." He whispered in her ear. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation  tonight." His voice was low and passionate. Margaret blushed as he kissed her again, only this time he kissed her deeply upon her lips. 

Mrs. Thornton had arranged to have a cushioned chair moved to her place at the dining room table. It was difficult for her to stay sitting up, but she was determined to see John as soon as he returned. The pain in her abdomen was constant now, with some relief at night when she took the doctor 's drops.   But she did not use the medication  tonight, because John was coming home and she wanted a clear head to greet her son.  She must be strong, she thought to herself, so that she could speak with him and not cause him any worry about  her health. He had too much to be concerned about without her adding to his load. A shipment of raw cotton had arrive earlier in the day, and was full of mold and mildew.  A new supplier was to blame and Mrs. Thornton suspected that he was  trying to unload bales that had been stockpiled in his damp warehouses.  Replacing the supply would delay the start of a major order.  Mrs. Thornton scoffed, the cheek of such a man to try to pass off inferior product to Marlborough Mills. And then there was the business with Margaret's brother and the visit from the Navy.  Mrs.  Thornton sighed heavily. Her son had not been married a week and his wife's family had already caused them trouble, bringing navy thugs to her house ... John's house, or actually John and Margaret's house. She was no longer the mistress of this home and it soured her mood further to admit it. She heard her son's familiar foot fall and a rustle of skirts enter the room behind her. Her mood lightened slightly - her son was home.
"Is that you, John?"
"Aye, Mother. We're home." His deep rich voice filled her heart to overflowing.

It had only been a few days, but in that time John saw an even more severe change in his mother's appearance. Previously frail, her coloring had gone gray and dull. Her eyes had lost their dark flame and showed an inability to focus. John bent down to kiss his mother's cheek. "You should be at Fanny's, Mother." He gently chided her.
"Nonsense. I should be here for your return. There's a light supper waiting for you both. I will ring for it."
Margaret saw that John wanted time alone with his mother and made to leave the room,   smiling warmly at her husband . "Let me see to that, Mrs Thornton." Margaret offered. "I will also take the opportunity to check in on Maria Louise as well." She hesitated for a moment, looking for John's acknowledgement, when he offered a silent "Thank you" to her. 
John removed his jacket and sat heavily in a chair at the table, while his mother resumed her needle point. He quietly watched her as she worked with white thread on linen, primarily by sense of touch, her hands trembling and moving slowly.  John reached across the table and gently placed his hand on her arm.  "You're having difficulty." He said quietly.
"Not at all," Mrs. Thornton said stubbornly, "I've worked this pattern dozens of times."
"Which is why you are able to do so without seeing it." John's voice caught, with the reality of his mother's failing condition. 
"Is it that obvious?" She asked as she set down the fabric.
"Aye, Mother.  To me, it is."  They sat quietly for a few moments.
"Come, now, it's time that you were to bed." John said as he stood, prepared to assist his mother to her rooms.
"Not just yet, there is something I must discuss with you." John returned to his seat and she told him of the naval police and their search for Frederick Hale. "They were an unsavory lot, dirty and reeking of alcohol. Obviously in it for the bounty. How is it that after all this time, there is still a price on the man's head?"
John shook his head, silently cursing and wishing that he could close this chapter in Margaret's life. "I will speak with our constables tomorrow. There is no reason that they should be allowed to run unchecked. "
"You know as well as I that these type are accountable to no one," Mrs. Thornton warned. "Just be glad they didn't find Margaret on her own." John bristled at the thought of Margaret having to answer to them.
"Williams didn't stop them at the gate? Mother, thank goodness you are safe, but how did you ever deal with them on your own?" Hannah Thornton coyly smiled at the memory. "I had our own ruffian deal with them." A look of confusion crossed John's face for a moment, but he quickly realized who came to his mother's aid.
"Higgins." He said with relief.