The Whistle Echoes Read online

  “You must tell her, John. She will be less angry if the news of our engagement came from you.”

  “She will not be angry, Margaret.”

  “You do not think so?”

  “No,” he answered, his lips twisting into a half smile. “Mother will be struck silent by the news and not say a single word.”

  Whether he was in jest or spoke in earnest, she was unable to tell. John turned his head to watch her while she shakily took a sip of her tea.

  She did not realize he was painting her image in his thoughts, committing her to his memory. John was memorizing each line and curve, each dimple and freckle on her face. He would rely on this mental picture of her during the moments he could not be near. His mother would understand perfectly because she knew how deeply he had loved, how he continued to love. In the same token, he was just as certain that at the moment of learning their news, she would be hard pressed to utter anything apart from a shocked gasp.

  TWO

  After tea they first went to the telegraph office where short and simple messages were immediately sent. To Mr. Bell, it was an announcement of the nuptials he would be unable to attend. To the firm of Greggs and Bowles, they requested a meeting early in the morning the following day. Hannah Thornton’s telegram was written more carefully. Margaret was certain the woman would be in an uproar upon learning John would not journey home that night. John stammered and wrote a few lines only to cross them out, and begin again. His agitation was drawing attention and not just from the clerk who looked upon them with curiosity.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her before scribbling down a few lines. “I was writing the news of our engagement, but upon further thought, I felt telling her face to face would be best. Better to feel the full brunt of her displeasure in person than through correspondence.” He was trying to tease.

  Margaret gasped at first, holding in her breath, fearing what was to come. John had kept his expression solemn, but she slowly saw how his eyes sparkled, and the laughter he valiantly held in began to loosen and escape its bounds. His teasing manner was becoming more prominent. She wouldn’t have thought it of him for his look was always severe and unyielding. She was hard pressed to believe he could be amusing when the situation called for tact and careful planning. John may believe his mother could be won over to their cause, but she was of the opposite view. Had Hannah Thornton been aware of any partiality she may have had towards her son, Margaret would have been more hopeful of a favourable response. All Hannah ever knew was that she had rejected John’s first proposal with little care for his feelings. Now he was to be her husband. His mother would not believe it. As such, John was correct in that any mention of marriage plans must and needed to be done in person rather than written into an impersonal telegram.

  She bit at her lips, crunching the plump pinkness under a row of teeth, wetting them until they glistened. She swallowed uncomfortably. When she heard the sound of a throat being roughly cleared that she knew she had an audience. John smiled tenderly down at her, pausing in his writing to offer her comfort.

  “You are afraid of what she might do, are you not? Do you fear she will try to sway my feelings against you? I would wager my mother preferred I had chosen another and you sent me home unattached.”

  Margaret shook her head at him. “Your jests bring comfort, John, but it will not ease the sting of disappointment, which is what your mother will endure upon learning of our engagement.”

  He reached for her. John would have liked nothing better than to embrace her fully and offer soothing kisses. Their location in the very public telegram office, however, prevented any such physical displays. “Fear not, dearest. Mother will always seek my happiness and that happiness is found with you. We are together now. I have won your heart and you will always have mine.”

  Margaret moved to brush away the tears that suddenly filled her eyes at his words. She was moved so quickly to emotion that her hand shook as she dabbed at her eyes, drying the wetness with a soft, lace cloth.

  Unable to ignore the handsome couple, the young clerk with the uncombed, blond hair poking out from under his cap had listened in on their conversation. He looked at the clock and noted almost ten minutes had passed and still the telegram was unwritten. Moving closer, he cleared his throat to get their attention.

  “Sorry, but are you done there? I can send it out if you’re finished?” he asked, his green eyes openly admiring Margaret as John scowled, seeing his interest.

  John roughly cleared his throat again, forcing the younger man to step away. “Yes, I will be finished momentarily.”

  Margaret looked over the paper and saw he wrote a few sentences. Other than informing his mother of his arrival, the day after tomorrow, he only mentioned good news, which he would explain in person. Paying the young man the two shillings, they gathered their things and walked out to their next destination.

  Henry Lennox sat at his desk, busy with work when the telegram was brought to his attention. It had been not his intention to come in at all that day. A business matter forced him to spend much of the morning in his private office working. Orders were issued to his clerk that he was not to be interrupted with exception of very pressing matters. The clerk stood waiting, expecting to be sent back with a reply for such was the usual occurrence in the law firm. Henry sat stiffly in his leather chair. He brushed a speck of dirt from his tailored coat before reaching for the envelope. When he read the short message, any assumption it would be a straightforward business matter evaporated.

  The telegram was laid down at his desk as he stood, turned, and looked out the window. He had not realized Margaret would be contacting the firm so soon. At least a week’s delay would have been his guess but there was no such consideration for him. Her message was simple and to the point. John Thornton was in London and the two of them were requesting a meeting with her attorneys at their earliest possible convenience the following day. Even with the long-standing friendship between them, Henry could not bring himself to see her so soon after. His own feelings were still firmly entrenched in what he had hoped would have been a different conclusion. Michaels, his clerk waited patiently for his response. Henry caught him glancing down at the paper. The younger man failed to see what made his employer agitated. The request was simple and plain enough. It was nothing uncommon when dealing with a client.

  “Sir, do you wish me to send a response?” his clerk asked.

  Henry remained staring out the window, watching with little interest all activity on the busy street below. He had his pride to deal with and he would not allow himself to be duped again into a hopeful wish where Margaret was concerned. Strangely enough, he bore her no ill feelings, though it was very apparent that she was the direct cause of his low spirits. There was no other recourse for him. Someone else had to meet with her. If not Bowles, then Greggs for it was impossible to continue as her advisor. Finally turning back, he scribbled a few lines on a piece of paper and handed the folded note to his clerk.

  “Give this to Mr. Greggs. I have asked him to handle all matters pertaining to Miss Hale from now on.”

  “You wish to withdraw as her advisor, sir?”

  “It is her wish as well as mine. Go now, and send a reply back that her appointment for Wednesday morning is confirmed.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Michaels walked to Mr. Greggs’ office first before heading out to the nearest telegraph office to send their reply. Henry watched from his window, noticing how quickly the young man walked down the street. In a matter of a few minutes, he had effectively removed the last connection that would bring Margaret into direct contact with him. It was not a complete break, however. There would always be family gatherings that could bring them back into each other’s company in the future

  Henry knew not how his brother would handle the news, even as he sought other matters to replace thoughts of Margaret in his mind. With small traces of sorrow and regret still lingering, he knew it would take a while longer to erase her image. There was always work, lots of work to occupy his time. He would not be bitter. He had suffered disappointment before but still thrived. There was no reason to suppose he would not succeed again.

  As he sat back down, Henry retrieved all papers that dealt with Margaret and placed them in a single pile on one corner of his desk. Pulling out another small piece of paper, he wrote a few words, and signing the note, he attached it to the top sheet. Michaels would take it later to Greggs when he returned.

  After a moment’s pause, he reached for another set of forms and began to work in earnest. Henry concentrated his efforts on other matters until the door opened again and the small pile he set aside was taken. Michaels brought it to the office at the far end of the floor, setting it down on Mr. Greggs’ desk. Unable to contain his curiosity, the young man took a quick glance and read the hastily scribbled note left for their client. It was of no concern to him why Mr. Lennox chose to disassociate himself from Miss Hale, but he couldn’t help but read the farewell the man wrote.

  “Best wishes, Margaret. Be happy, if you can.”

  It was a strange letter, but perhaps Miss Hale would understand the meaning. As for him, Michaels thought the message seemed like an insult, though not quite.

  “Oh, Edith, Margaret has been bewitched! There can be no other explanation,” Joanna Shaw cried after being informed that Margaret requested a room be readied for John during his stay. “He has worked his wicked ways on our dear girl and intends to steal her from us. My poor sister! She must be in crying in heaven knowing I am unable to protect her child.”

  “Mother, please! Calm yourself!!” Edith replied. She had heard the same news earlier but felt nothing ominous in the request. “Mr. Thornton attends us here at Harley Street for one night and one day. It is h
ardly worth noting as the visit is of short duration.”

  The Captain, unlike his wife, found the request odd. He was of the assumption Margaret and John Thornton were merely bound by business. It was true they were acquainted and socialized to a small degree while in Milton. But Margaret had left the cold, dark city over a year ago. Any interaction between them, apart from advancing his rents for the mill, had effectively ceased. Now he was a guest at their home. It was unusual to say the least and strange.

  “Does Margaret give any reason for her request?” he asked his wife.

  “No. None at all! She only mentioned briefly that she has good news to tell.”

  Edith moved to the open seat next to her mother. She took hold of the older woman’s hand and soothed her as best she could with soft, sweet words. “There, Mama. Have no worries. John Thornton probably extends us a courtesy call and Margaret, kind-hearted as she is, offers lodging for the night.”

  “But why have that man here?” Mrs. Shaw cried out. “I suppose they were friends in that city and I did hear he was good to your uncle. Still, accommodations at the inn would have been more proper than imposing on our hospitality.”

  Captain Lennox watched his mother-in-law, his handsome face unhappy with the news but for a different reason. He had sent a note to his brother earlier, to join them for dinner but was summarily rejected without reason. Henry did make mention he would no longer be Margaret’s attorney, ending his association with her. The news was abrupt and caught him by surprise. It made no sense. Henry and Margaret had been getting along famously, fanning the gossip that something more would emerge from their current civil friendship. But now Henry was staying away while John Thornton encroached upon their society. It was very strange indeed. He turned to his wife and watched Edith calmly drinking her tea. She saw no harm in the visit and owing to her excellent knowledge of her cousin, he was forced to adhere to her views rather than stir up demons unnecessarily.

  He watched as his mother-in-law suddenly stood up, as though propelled by invisible hands. Joanna Shaw could not sit still but paced up and down the room, stopping every now and then to look out the window as though expecting Margaret to appear.

  Dixon, who had watched from a corner of the room, wanted to say something, a good, kind word in defence of her young miss. Unlike the others, she knew more about John Thornton. Her young miss may have disliked him before, yet Dixon had begun to believe Margaret’s feelings had changed and she now regarded the mill master with admiration. Looking around the room, Dixon watched as Mrs. Shaw wrung her hands in worry. The older woman continued to pace, her mind and thoughts focused on one thing.

  “Oh, my dear niece, you have acted foolishly!” she cried out. “He is but a tradesman, a tradesman! Acquaintance or no, what is he doing here?” She repeated herself, trying to extract comfort from the slew of horrors she imagined Margaret and her family would endure during the visit.

  Edith remained sitting, seemingly unaffected. Of the three, she could not understand the sudden animosity towards their guest. What she had seen of John Thornton was favourable. He was a likeable fellow, if somewhat coarse and rough in manner and behaviour.

  The Captain said nothing but watched his mother-in-law pace the open area by the windows. Tea was forgotten and the appetite for a good dinner was lost in the wake of Margaret and John Thornton’s return. He tried to imagine what good news could come out of this escapade, but found nothing would fill his thoughts. Henry had mentioned a business transaction between the two and could only surmise that was whence the good news would derive from. Margaret was a sensible woman, unlike most he knew and he always trusted her judgment. Now was not the time to fail her. Margaret would return and explain all, effectively ending the matter before night fell.

  “She requested the Brown Room for that man!” Mrs. Shaw spoke out, her tirade not yet ended. “It’s the only one with ample view of the street.”

  Edith sighed at her mother’s rant. Even when new matters were discussed, each new sentence Joanna Shaw spoke still started and ended with the same two words, which had dominated her dialog for that last half hour.

  “That Man!” her mother uttered in frustration, while Edith sat and finished her tea.

  THREE

  Glancing every so often in John’s direction, Aunt Shaw would merely twist her lips in a look bordering on disdain and worry. In her opinion, the man in question was in possession of such severe features that her bewilderment grew ten-fold as to how he could have bewitched her niece. She could not understand at all while Margaret would smile, earning John’s attention and her displeasure.

  The past hour was spent in relative silence in the main sitting room. No one seemed eager enough to strike up a lively conversation. Upon returning to Harley Street, Aunt Shaw and Edith met Margaret and John at the door, approaching them before they could pass the threshold. While to one they showed tremendous attention, to the other, only the strongest level of civility was issued, though it was nowhere near what was due his worth. Margaret saw and had not been pleased to see John slighted. The injury grew larger when Aunt Shaw mentioned the Brown Room and John’s possible relocation from it.

  “The Brown Room is quite nice of course, but perhaps you would prefer a quieter room,” her aunt decreed in a loud booming voice that warranted no argument. “Many of the rear bedrooms have been newly furnished and afford a good view of the garden, should one feel an inclination to view the flowers.”

  “But Aunt, those rooms are at the opposite side of the house. Why place him so far from the rest of us?”

  “Margaret dear, I merely seek the most comfortable room for our guest. Would you not agree the rear bedrooms to be grand?”

  “That they maybe, but they are also somewhat secluded. None of the rooms near are occupied.”

  Joanna Shaw presented her niece a tight smile before turning to the tall, austere, and unsmiling man who was allowed into her home. “It is, of course, entirely Mr. Thornton’s decision.” She was speaking of him as though he was not there. It took another few seconds before she deemed herself ready to address him formally. “I was of the opinion you would enjoy the quiet. London is so very lively, so unlike your northern cities. Margaret may not approve of my choice, but I believe I know what is best.”

  Her forced smile easily gave her lie away, yet John nodded, acceding to her plans for he knew she did not regard him with much admiration or respect.

  “I am sure to find any of those rooms comfortable, Madam,” he replied.

  The conversation had started off as such, with standoffish behaviour escalating so that no one felt at ease as the minutes progressed. Edith for her part could not see what attracted Margaret to such a seemingly cold and austere looking man. For the past ten minutes, John looked with little to no emotion at them, his face uninviting and making no attempt at conversation, no matter how brief. Her mother’s intention to separate the two was foiled when that man, the label Joanna Shaw used when referring to Mr. Thornton, sat quickly by Margaret’s side and told her with a solid glare he was not moving.

  John could feel his temper rising at an alarming rate but kept it tightly leashed for Margaret’s sake. He could not escape being the recipient of her aunt’s displeasure. He reminisced on the first tea he ever had with his beloved, where they quarrelled before his departure. It was pleasant in comparison to the pretence of friendship offered to him that day. He wondered then how Margaret’s relations would welcome the news of their forthcoming marriage. Perhaps he would find himself tossed out in the streets before he could enjoy the comforts of the newly furnished bedrooms. Joanna Shaw was sure to be displeased with the announcement.

  To his critical eye, she appeared the respectable lady, nothing at all like her frail and fragile sister. The late Maria Hale initially regarded him with apprehensively too, but she was always kind and amiable in his company. Contrary to her behaviour, her sister Mrs. Shaw, seemed bound and determined to hold him at bay, perhaps in the hopes Margaret would be swayed by her influence. When he looked to his bride to be, she appeared serene sitting next to him. Her hand was just a few inches away. He longed to take it in his, but dare not attempt such with Joanna Shaw watching.