Chapter Two

Mrs Hale and Dixon joined them a few days later, looking quite happy after their seaside break but within two weeks of arriving in Milton, both had come down with a dreadful cold. Though not a medical woman, Carrie was something of a geek and as such her mind was a positive trove of useless information. She knew that there was no such thing as paracetamol or aspirin in these times but she also knew that both drugs could be found in tree bark, and that before they had been distilled into pure drugs, they were a herbal remedy.

She had been given an allowance by Mr Hale, which really was too kind of him given how little money the family had, but after he refused her protests she accepted it gracefully, for to continue to refuse would have been rude. Now she was glad of it as she set off into the centre of Milton.

Unwilling to spend money on her own dresses, she was still wearing Margaret's clothes. Fortunately Margaret didn't seem to mind sharing her wardrobe because while she had lived with her cousin in London, Mrs Shaw had kitted her out with many more dresses than a young lady could wear in one week, though Carrie was careful to keep away from the few dresses Margaret expressed a preference for.

Unfortunately her size seven feet were far larger than Margaret's and she only possessed one pair of boots, those that she had been wearing when she arrived here. Thankfully they were her day boots which she wore to class, so they were relatively comfortable with only a small heal.

She was also keen to help Dixon out around the house, though she had to say that housework in the 1850's was much harder than house work in 2011. Oh, what she wouldn't give for her washing machine and tumble drier right about now!

Still, she had other things on her mind today. As she neared the centre of town she stopped an elderly gentleman, who seemed only to happy to help her.

"Excuse me, sir, I wonder if you can help me. I am new to Milton and I am looking for a chemist shop."

"Pardon me, a what?"

"Oh, um, an apothecary or a herbal remedy shop." She had no idea what they were called in this day and age.

"Ah," he smiled. "There is an apothecary on Chambers Street. Do you know where that is?"

"I believe so, I have studied a map of Milton. Thank you."

He touched his hat, bid her good day and walked away. Carrie made her way towards where she believed Chambers Street could be found.

She couldn't remember which bark Asprin was found in so she asked the man behind the counter for something to reduce a fever. He offered her powered Cinchona bush bark, which she knew contained paracetamol, or powered Willow bark, which she now remembered was the one with aspirin in. Knowing that paracetamol was the more dangerous of the two drugs in large amounts, she opted for Willow bark. The last thing she wanted was to give Mrs Hale liver failure since she didn't know how much of the drug was in any given amount.

The shop keeper advised her how much of the powered willow bark to administer and after weighing the powder, he poured it into a small bottle, which he placed a cork stopper into before he handing it to her.

She paid for it and left the shop, only to see Mr Thornton heading towards her. Her heart skipped a beat and she found herself quite stupefied for a moment. Thankfully by the time he reached her, she had regained some of her sense. She bowed slightly to him.

"Mr Thornton, how good to see you again."

"Miss Preston." He looked to the shop she had just exited. "I hope you are not unwell?"

"Oh, no. Mrs Hale has a dreadful cold though and I thought some willow bark would help her fever."

"I am sorry to hear that."

They fell into step beside one another.

"What brings you into town?" Carrie asked.

"Oh, I have come from the cotton exchange."

"I hope business was good this morning." She said, doing her best to make polite conversation, for this man really did turn her into a simpleton when she was in his presence.

"Quite good, thank you."

"Good." She smiled and cast her mind around for another topic of conversation. "Um, I have been thinking recently about getting a job and I thought that you might be the person to ask."

"You want to work?" He sounded stunned.

"I do. The Hales have been very good to me but I really would rather pay my own way, I would like to give them something in the way of house keeping for looking after me, and I feel just awful taking money off them when they don't have a lot."

"Excuse me, I was under the impression that ladies from the south didn't work."

"Believe me, my mother and sister agree with you." Her smile faded. "Agreed with you," she corrected. They may not have been close but Carrie was starting to miss her family as well as her friends.

"I'm sorry," Mr Thornton said, catching the change in tense and how her voice turned sad.

"Anyway, I am of a different mind and prefer to be independent. I'm not skilled at anything but I can read and write, I pick new things up quickly and I'm willing to turn my hand to anything, even factory work."

"Nay!" he looked appalled by the idea. "A fine young lady like yourself is not made for the likes of mill work."

"Beggars can't be choosers," she smiled. "But if you could keep your ear open for anything that might be suitable, I would appreciate it."

"Of course," he said. "What did you have in mind, something like a governess?"

"Oh, God no! I worked as a au pair once, dreadful job."

"A what?"

"Oh, a nanny. I'm sorry, my family spent many years abroad so I have some strange language at times." Which was true, she had lived in Spain for five years when she was young. In fact her father still lived out there.

"So what did you have in mind?"

"I don't know, office work? Administration? I'm not bad at maths so perhaps even book keeping or shop work. But like I said, I'm willing to try anything, even mill work."

"Give me a few days," he said. "Don't do anything hasty."

"Oh please, procrastination could be my middle name." She winked at him.

Mr Thornton frowned, not at her words, though he did not like the idea of her getting a job, but at her wink! Young ladies did not wink. Well, the ones he knew didn't. They also didn't want jobs and think it was their duty to contribute to the household in any way other than living in it, or sometimes running it.

Granted, his mother was freer with her attitude, she had often helped him with matters of business, but then she would freely admit she was a tradesman wife and a manufacturers mother, not a lady.

Of course, in working class families, the daughters were expected to work as soon as they were able, just as the sons were. It wasn't a woman working that he found so strange, it was this woman wanting to work.

"Well," she said, pulling him out of his thoughts, "I should get this home. I don't want to leave Mrs Hale in distress for any longer than necessary."

"Of course. Good day, Miss Preston."

"Good day, Mr Thornton," she said with a somewhat theatrical bow and a cheeky smile, for the overly formal manners of this society still amused her. She wondered what Mr Thornton would say is she just left him with a ' bye' or 'see ya'.

He couldn't be sure, but he thought that she found this manners amusing. In almost every way she was lady, yet she was willing to flout convention by winking at him, now she seemed to make fun of him for adopting the manners of the upper classes. She really was a puzzle. She infuriated him and pleased him in equal measure and more than that, she captivated her because as yet he didn't know how or why she behaved as she did. She was a puzzle, and one he fully intended to solve.

III

A few days later Mr Thornton had been invited to tea with the Hales. His mother had almost laughed at the notion that he should dress to take tea with them but they were gentry, they deserved his respect. He also couldn't help thinking that he wanted to look his best for Miss Preston.

His mother seemed offended by the haughty way Mrs and Miss Hale had treated her and Fanny when they called, and Mr Thornton had observed that behaviour for himself when he had first met Miss Hale. It was strange though, because while his mother didn't want John marrying Miss Hale, she seemed rather affronted that Miss Hale didn't seem interested in her son.

Thankfully Miss Preston hadn't been present when they had called and as such his mother hadn't passed judgement on her yet.

"I was thinking I might take someone else on in the office," he had casually said to his mother before he left that evening. "There has been a backlog building up that I never quite get around to clearing.

"Can we afford it?" she asked.

"I was thinking I might hire a woman, perhaps just part time, at least in the beginning."

Knowing that woman's wages were usually half that if a man, this appeased Mrs Thornton.

"Very well, just make sure you choose someone with a brain in her head rather than a pretty face."

"What if I find someone with both?" John teased.

Mrs Thornton scowled, though John could see she was just playing.

"Get on with you, foolish boy."

He bent down and kissed her cheek.

"Don't wait up."

He was hoping he would get a chance to speak with Carrie this evening, to tell her that he had secured work for her. He wondered how she would react. Would she be pleased as he hoped, or were her words the other day only a veiled attempt at garnering sympathy and possibly getting money from him. He didn't like to doubt Miss Preston, but he couldn't help but remember how his sister often angled indirectly for money if she had spent all of her allowance.

Thankfully she opened the door to him and he had his opportunity.

"Mr Thornton, how lovely to see you again."

"Miss Preston." He stepped inside and Carrie took his hat and coat from him, which she hung up by the door. "I was hoping I might get a chance to speak with you alone."

"Oh?" she turned to him, looking puzzled and slightly apprehensive.

His spirits plummeted as he realised she hadn't been serious about finding work. Nonetheless, he had done as she asked and he would finish what he intended to say.

"I believe I have found you employment as a clerk, of sorts."

"Oh? Oh!" Her confused frown was replaced with a broad smile. When he had said he wanted to speak to her alone, her first thought had been that he might like her, and while she would dearly love for Mr Thornton to fall in love with her she was, needless to say, a little worried that she would mess up her favourite romance. "That's wonderful news. Thank you so much. I have been through the papers every day but the only positions I have found for a woman have been living-in as a governess, and you know my feelings about that line of work."

"My pleasure," he said, relaxing, for whatever had caused her discomfort earlier, her smile seemed genuine now. "I wasn't sure if you had said anything to the Hales yet so I though it best to speak to you in private."

"No, I haven't said anything yet in case they object."

"Come by the mill about ten tomorrow morning and I'll go through the details with you."

On impulse she stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek. She knew that the job might be unsuitable but right now she didn't care. He had helped her and she was grateful.

Mr Thornton watched as she almost skipped off down the hall. Her lips seemed to have warmed his flesh where she had kissed his cheek and he found himself unable to follow her for a moment. That was very forward of her, no doubt, and very unladylike indeed but it had been so heart felt, not to mention welcomed, that he couldn't think ill of her for it. She turned back as she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked back at him, her eyes asking if he was coming.

He rediscovered the ability to walk and followed her up the stairs to the parlour.

Carrie smiled as Mr Thornton watched Margaret serving the tea. 'This is it!' she thought, 'he's falling in love.'

Mr Hale and Mr Thornton began discussing the power loom and Carrie listened with interest. The mechanism used to separate the threads was ingenious and the idea of using heedles and heedle bars to separate and lift different strands of the weft was so simple, yet something she would probably never have thought of herself.

"Fascinating," she said softly, causing both men to turn and look at her. "Don't you think, Margaret?" she asked the other woman, embarrassed to have drawn their attention.

"Sorry? Oh yes, very interesting," Margaret said. Clearly she hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation, though she did rise to refill the tea cups.

Carrie was feeling quite put out with Margaret. No wonder it took her so long to like Mr Thornton, because she was so bloody indifferent to him for so long that she didn't have a chance to get to know him. Still, Mr Thornton seemed smitten, watching with interest as her father used Margaret's index finger and thumb as sugar tongs.

She felt a pang of jealousy, until he looked in her direction and while still looking smitten, also smiled warmly at her. A moment later she felt a pang of dread. What if he liked her more than Margaret?

She forced herself to smile back. He was just being polite, that's all. Margaret was the one for him, there was no doubt in her mind.

"Margaret has recently started embroidering a lovely piece of cambric for her cousin Edith's baby. It is lovely work but I dare say she wouldn't mind technology like your loom to make it easier for her," Carrie said, trying to induce Margaret to join the conversation.

"Nonsense," Margaret chimed in. "It is the very fact that it is hand made which makes it so special. Were it mass produced on a machine, it would not be made with nearly the same care and attention."

Catching Mr Thornton's rather offended look at Margaret's words, Carrie decided that perhaps she was better off keeping her mouth shut.

"I'm sure it's lovely," Mr Thornton told Margaret, somehow managing to keep a civil tongue in his head.

"Yes, well," Mr Hale seemed to have picked up on the insult even if Margaret still looked blissfully oblivious to the offence she had caused. He swiftly moved the conversation on so Carrie picked up some knitting and set about completing it. She wasn't very good, Mrs Hale had only taught her a few weeks ago, but at least mistakes could be unpicked so she wasn't wasting materials. She kept her eyes focused intently on her work, even if she couldn't help her ears listening to Mr Thornton's conversation.

She felt his eyes on her occasionally and the one time she was unable to resist glancing up, the look she saw on his face quite made her shiver with desire. Mark had never made her feel like that, she thought, hastily averting her eyes and squeezing her thighs together to ease some of the tension she felt.

She listened as Margaret defended the south, listened as Mr Thornton explained about his childhood and his father dying and finally she was unable to remain focused on her knitting. She put the work aside and looked up at him. He was matter of fact about his past, asking not for pity or sympathy, but claiming his due as a self made man. She smiled at him, wanting him to know that she liked him for his honesty.

Finally he rose to leave, shaking hands with Mr Hale, Mrs Hale and Carrie but when he made the same gesture to Margaret she was not expecting it and bowed instead. Thinking he had been snubbed, Mr Thornton's features clouded once again and he left. Fearing his anger, Carrie followed him.

"Please," she said as he stopped by the front door to put his coat on. "Don't think badly of Margaret, she's not used to shaking hands with people and she wasn't prepared for it. She didn't mean any offence."

"And yet that seems to be all she causes."

"Mr Thornton, I know that Margaret can appear haughty but she is not, really, she's just not used to your ways up here. Underneath that somewhat imposing exterior is a heart of gold and she will be very upset at the thought that she's offended you."

"Tell me, Miss Preston, you are also from the south, are you not?"

"Yes, I was born in London."

"And until now, have you spent any time in the north?"

"Um," she was rather confused by this line of questioning. "I went skiing in Aviemore once, in Scotland."

"Skiing?"

"Yes, it's a kind of sport."

"Yes, well, Scotland may be to the north but it is it's own country. You have never been to the north of England before then?"

"No, I don't think so."

"So you are a southerner who has no experience of the north and yet you have adapted to our northern ways with relative ease."

"No, I..." Oh dear, this was not going well. "I've spent a lot of time abroad so I am used to different cultures."

Mr Thornton was starting to look angry again, but this time with Carrie.

"Miss Preston, you can defend Miss Hale until the cows come home (there's a nice northern saying for you) but I speak as I find and so far I find her to be of a most disagreeable disposition."

He put his hat on his head, opened the front door and walked out. To her relief he paused and turned back.

"Good evening," he said, all traces of anger gone from his voice.

"Good night, Mr Thornton." She smiled, pleased that she seemed to have been forgiven.

She closed the door behind him and with a sigh, returned to the sitting room. She arrived just in time to hear Margaret say "Papa, I do think Mr. Thornton a very remarkable man; but personally I do not like him at all."

"You don't know him at all," Carrie snapped at her.

"And you do?" Margaret asked.

"Yes! Not well, obviously, at least not yet but I can see beyond the tradesman to the fair and just man underneath and if you can't then you are letting your prejudices show."

"That is hardly fair," Margaret complained.

"Maybe not," Carrie agreed. "But no less fair than you judging him without getting to know him first."

All of the Hales were staring at her and she blushed.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't have said that. I think that I'll go to bed now, it's been a long day."

She bid them goodnight and headed up to her bedroom, hoping that she had not just alienated them by being rude to their daughter. Mr Hale would understand, wouldn't he?