Shadow in the North

Chapter Twenty-Two - A Business Proposition

Isabel arrived at Marlborough Mills the following day, at the allotted time. She was not insensible to the fact that the last time she had stepped foot inside the grounds, had been the day of the riot, and that brought to mind more fully (if she was ever in need of a reminder) the proposal which had so swiftly followed the next day, and been necessarily rejected. It was with trepidation that she picked up her skirts and hurried across the mill yard, anxious of the reception that would await her, at the hands of the stern and unforgiving matriarch. Mr Thornton had, however, been watching for her from the window to his office, and he stepped promptly from the mill building, and came forward to greet her.

'Miss Darrow,' he said, his back straight, his voice stiff and formal.

'Mr Thornton,' greeted she, bobbing her knees low in that deferential manner she had. She felt, rather than saw, the looming figure of a shadow at the window, and knew that they were being watched, and as though he had sensed her sudden unease, Mr Thornton looked up at the mill house, his eyes lingering but for a moment, before he stepped back and held out his arm to direct her across the yard.

'If you will follow me, Miss Darrow, I have a proposition for you, and I think it would be best if you saw what it relates to, before I begin to explain further.' She nodded, intrigued, and followed his long and graceful strides across the yard. Being a good foot shorter than he, she almost had to run to keep up with him, but she was no stranger to exercise, and so managed to remain beside him with a composure which surprised him, as he glanced furtively at her from the corner of his eye.

'This is the stable block, Miss Darrow,' explained Mr Thornton, as he slowed his pace and led her towards the outbuilding. 'We do not keep horses, but hire them as necessary, so you see the stalls are currently empty, but often in use. Here,' continued he, walking onwards, towards what she had supposed to be a tack room, 'we have rooms which are not in use - on account of our not keeping horses - and it is this room here that I should like to show you.'

He pulled a key from his pocket and opened the door, gesturing for her to enter. She did so without caution, and found herself standing just within a moderately-sized room, with a smaller one leading off the back. The rooms were empty, but covered in a series of roughly-drawn chalk lines, which she supposed to be markings for some form of renovation. Leaving the door to the building wide open, Mr Thornton followed Isabel inside, and stood beside her, looking about the room with a small dip to his brow.

'It does not look much - it is modest - but I had thought that we might set this up as a type of infirmary, if you will. A surgery for the hands, and - if I recall correctly - you had said you would be interested in working in a medical capacity - even without pay - if it was of benefit to the poor?' He smiled softly, his eyes glowing indulgently, as he saw pleasure light her face.

'You mean to open an infirmary for the hands, and for myself to run it?'

'If you are willing, then yes.' He held his breath in expectation. He felt sure she would agree, and yet he felt so very nervous. He had looked the matter over for many hours; arduously poring over costings and lists of necessary equipment. He had spoken to Dr Donaldson, and had him draw up a list of supplies that would be needed, stating their associated costs, and how often he believed stock would have to be replenished. He had reasoned that there was a need for it amongst the working poor - that healthy workers would be better workers; working harder and longer. He had reasoned that although in no way able to prevent a strike if the fools should put their heads together again, and although he was not willing to explain his every reason for each business decision he made, that some effort - during the confines of working hours - could do nothing to harm relations between the workers and the Master.

'How would it work?' asked Isabel, walking into the smaller back room.

'It would be a surgery, run perhaps two - three - days per week. I would cover the cost for any treatment necessary due to accidents which had occurred on site - which I always have - so long as negligence was not the cause - and I am minded to look to free treatments for the children. The adults will pay - either per visit, or by putting a little aside each week if they have trouble with savings. It would be a nominal fee - they won't want charity; they would be suspicious of it - but the cost to myself would be only the free care for the children workers. I already pay for the doctor if there is a fair accident, and having an infirmary on site, will reduce the cost for me. Buying supplies in bulk will keep costs down, and you - if you are in accord - could offer your services to us here at Marlborough Mills -'