Page 30 of Through Darkened Clouds

She smiled back.

Mr. Thornton gave a brief smile to the girl’s mother, who appreciated that the stranger was kind and not annoyed by children.

London approached. He could tell by the increase in buildings that they passed. The slums and the brick-ovens of industry were a far cry from the beautiful hillside scenes they had passed before.

Stepping off the train, he clenched his jaw. He had made it this far. There could be no turning back now.

He practiced in his head what he might say to her as he navigated the streets to the address he had scribbled on a note in his pocket: ninety-six Harley Street.

The streets were clean, and the people walking about were well-dressed. Wherever he looked, there were tall windows with ornate draperies, iron fences, and painted doors with gleaming brass knockers and knobs.

At last he arrived at the correct door. His pulse raced, only partly from the brisk walk. He took a few moments to steady his breath before he resolutely pulled the doorbell.

The butler answered, allowing him entrance.

“Mr. Thornton,” the visitor introduced himself. “I’ve come from Milton to speak with Miss Hale.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Hale is not in at the moment. If you would leave your card—”

“Mr. Thornton,” Henry Lennox greeted him, coming from the parlor where he had been sitting with the Times. “I thought I heard your name. How good of you to come,” he said, with a sardonic smile.

“Mr. Lennox,” the manufacturer returned with a nod of his head. He could only muster a slight curve of a smile.

“Have you come to relay a message to Margaret, or should I say Miss Hale?” He glanced over the manufacturer’s gray waistcoat and handsome burgundy cravat—far dapper attire than he has worn in Milton.

“I have matters I would like to discuss with Miss Hale herself.”

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Captain Lennox interrupted them, stepping from outside into the front hallway. Tall and handsome, with an air of happy-go-lucky ease, Captain Lennox looked to his brother, then to the dark-haired stranger.

“This is my brother, Capt. Lennox,” Henry indicated to the Milton visitor. “And this is Mr. Thornton of Milton,” he announced with forced pleasantness.

“Ah, Mr. Thornton!” Capt. Lennox responded, shaking his hand. “We’ve heard you’ve been a helping friend to the Hales. Very good indeed,” he said, smiling. “If you have no other engagements this evening, you must join us for dinner!” he added.

Henry’s eyes darted to his brother in displeasure, for he had sensed during his first encounter with Mr. Thornton that the Milton manufacturer might hold aspirations regarding Margaret.

“Thank you,” said Mr. Thornton, although he was disappointed to find her absent. “I accept your gracious invitation.”

“Excellent! We shall see you at seven.”

Mr. Thornton walked briskly away and turned onto the street, his steps slowing as he endeavored to recover his reasoning capacities.

Had he done the right thing in accepting? It would be difficult to assess her feelings concerning him in the company of others.

Perhaps he had been too hasty. He should not have come. He halted at the thought, forcing the pedestrians close behind to walk around him.

He could send a letter, asking her directly if Mr. Bell was correct in interpreting her heart. He would need to send his regrets for the dinner invitation—but no!—he could not dismiss the clawing ache to see her; however painful it may be.

He resumed a purposeful gait. He must find a place to stay for the night.

Nicholas Higgins rapped on Thornton’s office door at noon.

One of the clerks passing by recognized the mill worker and stopped to relay a message. “He’s gone to London. He said to tell you if you came by,” was added as he walked away.

“Well, I’m gloppened!” Higgins said to himself as he shook his head. “He’s gone to try her after all!” A smile crept over his face, and he clapped his hands.

He felt in his bones that this would result in good news. The Master deserved a spell of happiness. He’d had his hard times. A good woman would give a man a soft place to come home to.

Higgins shook his head and chuckled. Here he was now, wishing the Master every good thing, when not a year past he was cursing the likes of him.