Not a Gentleman (North and South Fanfic)

Chapter Three: In Loco Parentis

"Miss Hale, it is I, Mr. Thornton," John began, but quickly realized Margaret had slipped back into unconsciousness. A familiar, tightening sensation spread through his midsection, one he recognized as anxiety- of the type brought on by unfilled obligations. "Mother," he said, turning his attention to the black-clad woman sitting sentinel-like in the wing chair to the left of the bed, "you did send a letter to the Hales, didn't you? I completely forgot to ask. With all of the commotion this afternoon..." John rubbed a hand through his hair, completely disheveling it. Mr. Hale must be completely out of his mind with worry. Hopefully he had not mentioned his concerns to his wife.

"Do not worry, John. While you were ignoring Dr. Donaldson, he happened to mention he would be checking in on Mrs. Hale. I asked him to drop off the water mattress and to let them know of the girl's condition. He also had some final comments about Miss Hale's care. No food or water tonight, although he did not say why."

John breathed a small sign of relief. Circumstances were more than he might have hoped for. While his mother's letter likely would have told the entire story, Dr. Donaldson was sure to be more circumspect, and to paint Margaret's injury in the way they had discussed. They agreed that Richard Hale did not need to know every detail, not when his own wife was so ill. A carriage could be quickly despatched to Crampton should Margaret's condition change, and the entire truth told at that time. Additionally, John did not feel comfortable sharing the particulars of how Margaret came to be out there on the porch before those rioters. That was a story for Margaret to share with her father herself, should she choose to do so. John turned his attention back to Margaret, his stomach attempting to untying the Gordian knot snarled expertly by anxiety and dread. His contemplation was interrupted immediately by the parlour maid, Jane.

"Ma'am, if you'll excuse me, the Hales' servant is here. She's askin' to see Miss Margaret."

John jumped up and hastily exited to investigate the medicine chest. Perhaps there was something there for rapid-onset indigestion. Besides, it would not do for that harpy, Dixon, to see him in the same room with Margaret. The ever-indignant housekeeper would surely have an apoplectic fit.

In contrast to her beleaguered son, John's mother rose in the imperturbable manner that befit the mistress of the finest mill in Milton, and met the red-faced housekeeper with steady eyes and a calm demeanor.

"Is she okay?" Dixon asked as she rushed into the room. She dropped her shawl as she sprang to Margaret's side, fairly knocking over the slat-back chair so recently warmed by Mr. Thornton. "Miss Margaret, please wake up!"

"She is resting," Mrs. Thornton said in dry tones, drawing the draperies to further darken the room. "Dr. Donaldson suggested it would be best not to disturb her for some time."

Dixon ignored the older woman, and began patting Margaret's hand in an effort to rouse her. "And what is this, then?" she cried, noticing the bandage on Margaret's arm. "Dr. Donaldson said she fell and hit her head. He did not mention any injury to her arm."

"Dixon," Margaret opened her eyes and blinked, struggling against the dim light. "Is Mama well? Has something happened?" A look of fear crossed the young woman's face as she tried to sit up in bed. She was unsuccessful. "Oh. The room is spinning. I.. I am not well."

Mrs. Thornton glared at the frumpy housekeeper, who for her part tried to soothe her charge. She patted her hand after tucking her back into the bed.

"Now, now, Margaret, do not worry. Your mother is doing much better, thanks to the water mattress you fetched from the Thornton's. It was very generous of them to offer it, and she sleeps much better this evening as a result."

"Oh. I am glad of it." Margaret blinked as her dilated eyes tried unsuccessfully to adjust themselves to the room's dim light. "But where is Papa?"