"N&S: John Thornton, Love Lessons", by Gratiana Lovelace (2013-2014) (Done)

Ch. 82 (PG-13): Wooing

John: "Audrey Grace, Come with me and we will collect Mr. Higgins."  John smiles and Margaret nods knowingly while cradling their baby son Douglas in her arms and with their younger daughter Caty snuggled into her side sucking her thumb. 

So, John alights from the carriage and lifts Audrey Grace out.

Audrey Grace: "I love picnics, Papa!  Sitting on the ground to eat is so much fun!"  Audrey Grace says gleefully.

John: "Yes."  John agrees, but hopes that they can find a tree for him to lean against for support of his tall frame.  "And be sure to sit on the blanket so that you don't get grass stains on your play dress."  Audrey Grace nods. 

John knocks at Nicholas Higgins front door.  And inside, Nicholas bounds up from a nearby chair and opens it for him.

Nicholas: "Mast ... John!"  Nicholas catches himself and shakes John hands warmly.  "Please come in for a moment while I collect my food contributions for our picnic."

John: "You don't have to bring anything."  John smiles indulgently.

Nicholas:  "But I want to."  Nicholas smiles and walks back to his small kitchen and dining area beyond the sitting room.  Nicholas is no charity case.  A man has his pride.  Nicholas makes a good wage at Thornton's Marlborough Mills and he can afford to contribute to their picnic with some bread and seasonal fruit, etc.  Fruit.  Hmmm.

John motions back to Margaret sitting in the carriage that he and Audrey Grace are going inside of the cottage as they walk inside--which Margaret takes to mean that John wants her to follow him. So she and Nanny Brigid and the children exit the carriage and walk toward and then into Nicholas Higgins cottage.

Nanny Brigid looks around the sparsely furnished cottage's sitting room, liking what she sees.  There is a sette facing the fireplace hearth, with two large chairs on either side of the mantel.  The sitting room has a slightly masculine feel to in it--in the sense that it is not cozy yet and needs a bit of color in the window hangings and perhaps some fresh flowers on the sofa table to give it the homey touch of a woman's influence. 

Being so wrapped up in her appraisal of Nicholas' sitting room, Brigid does not realize that Nicholas has turned around from packing up his picnic basket to see that she and Margaret and the children are all standing in his home.  Nicholas is frozen, wondering whether Mrs. Gordon thinks that his home is suitable for a family--were she to grant him the boon of becoming his wife.

Margaret:   Breaking the awkward silence, Margaret warmly suggests. "Nicholas, your home looks lovely.  Might we have a tour?"  Nicholas knows that Margaret has been here several times, the tour is obviously for Nanny Brigid's benefit.

John:  "Ha ha ha!   Margaret, I don't know if we should surprise Nicholas seeking a tour without any warning."  John offers sympathetically.  Margaret pouts.    She is only hoping to  give Brigid more reasons to like Nicholas.

Nicholas: "Nay, it is alright.  With the children gone to live with Mary and I am all alone, it is not so difficult to keep the place tidy."  Nicholas smiles sheepishly, then he sneaks a glance at Nanny Brigid Gordon. 

But he has said the wrong thing, as her cool facial expression reveals.

Nanny Brigid: "Childrrren often have play toys orrr clothes strrrewn about, but they can also be taught to pick up afterrr themselves."  She challenges--wondering if Mr. Higgins does not want more children brought into his life.  She has her baby son Arthur, and any man whom she considers to marry must welcome him wholeheartedly.

Nicholas: "I beg your pardon."  Nicholas back peddles, realizing that he has given offense.   "Children's messes are a delightful reminder of their joyful presence in our lives."  Nicholas smiles broadly at Nanny Gordon.  "Let me give you a tour."  Margaret smiles.  "The down stairs you see here, except for a pantry and cold storage larder off of the kitchen."    He points to the right of the wood stove along the back wall.