A Misguided Mistake

Chapter One

Her face burned. Of course she had known it was wrong. A man's study was a private place, and though the door had not been closed, she had not been asked in. Though embarrassed, she was glad it was Mr Thornton who had caught her - she did not think Mrs Thornton would be at all amused to find Margaret poking around her son's bookshelves.

"What do you make of them?" He asked, stepping inside and gently kicking the door with his heel so it closed slightly behind him. He joined her, his hand reaching out to touch the spines of the books. "Are they to your taste?"

Margaret looked carefully at the bookshelf in front of her. It was rather tall, though slim, and held around twenty books per shelf. Many of the lower shelves were empty, and the ones around the height of Mr Thornton's chest were jammed full. It seemed a strange use of the space.

"You do not have many books, but the ones you do have are quite interesting. I believe we have a similar taste in fiction." She ran her fingers along the spines of the books. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the man standing beside her. "I owe you an apology, Mr Thornton."

"And I owe you one as well. I spoke harshly to you in front of others, and I am sorry. I am sorry I spoke roughly to you at all, but as you can imagine it is something of a sore subject in this house, at that dinner table."

Margaret thought on his words; now it was just the two of them, things did not feel as tense. He did not smile at her, but he did not frown either. He was just staring down at her; though, from the great height at which he stood, that in itself was rather intimidating.

"No, no you spoke with conviction. To be clear, Sir - I am not apologising for my basket. I will never regret helping those in need but I do so let my tongue run away with me. My mother will be mortified at my conduct, should my father or Mr Bell tell her. She does not like it when I speak my mind so."

Mr Thornton looked at her, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. He smiled more than she thought he would the first time she had met him. Though he had a fierce temper that seemed to flare easily, she could see the humour in him too. She felt that he teased her sometimes, and she had often heard him make little quips to her father about one thing or another.

"You have beliefs, and you stand by them. There is something I admire about that, though it is no great secret I do not approve of your methods. You don't understand this world, Miss Hale. The union is more dangerous than you realise, more brutal. I would not want a young lady like yourself to become entangled in such unsavoury business."

"I do not believe the union men to be of bad character, Mr Thornton. They are desperate men who struggle to support their families. Have you been to Princeton yourself?"

He raised an eyebrow at her question. Margaret knew her tone as impertinent, but she did not care to alter it.

"Aye, of course I have. I am no ignorant master who does not know his own workers, Miss Hale. I know the poverty, I know the conditions they live in. I run a business, rightly or wrongly, and I pay them the wages I can afford to pay and still turn a healthy profit. They are welcome to take or leave my employement, but they do not leave because they know that I run a fair mill despite what they try and claim."

"I want to learn more." Margaret said, her eyes fixed on his. "I want to learn how this world works, how things could be improved for them, to make things fairer-"

"You should not be in here, Miss Hale." His voice turned hard.

"I have already said that I am sorry for being here without your permission." Margaret said, arms crossing.

"Yet you have not left. Your father will wonder where you are."

"My father is no doubt engaged in conversation." Margaret said. "But of course, if you wish me to leave I shall go. It is just - you have been blocking the door, Mr Thornton."