#thread - margaret mulgrave

[in-singh]

location: an office in Spitalfields when: noon in January closed w/ @margaretmulgrave

A midday rainstorm pattered against the grimy window of the small office off of Lamb Street. The calming noise intermingled with that of the soft purrs from a kitten in the corner of the room. Peter sighed and let his eyes study over the parchment before him once more, trying to focus on his most recent patient’s symptoms to no avail. He turned slightly in his chair and caught a glance at the invitation to the Harcourt wedding. Instantly, the guilt came.

He had never acted so petty in his life, yet how had he been expected to feel about his formerly betrothed’s nuptials to another. Of course he was happy for Margaret, delighted even. But perhaps he had been a little jealous? Peter had quite easily accepted that they would marry other people... but he was too naive to prepare himself for the obvious situation of Margaret marrying first. When the Duke called off the engagement, Peter was initially content, for it meant that he could focus on his career, and take care of his family. Though as the years passed, his work only kept him busy for so long. Now he longed for a woman with whom he could share his love, and build a finer life.

Fortunately, he was pulled from his racing thoughts by a quiet yet purposeful knock on his door. Peter rose and quickly tidied his desk before dashing to greet who he could only assume was one of his patients. Nothing could have prepared him for the face that met him on the other side.

“Margaret!” He exhaled, standing to the side so she could enter. “What are you doing here? On the East End. Alone?”

[earlharcourt]

CLOSED STARTER || @margaretmulgrave​ LOCATION || St George’s EVENT || Mulgrave / Harcourt Wedding

The sky was gray. Well, not gray exactly but it just before the sun fully rose and the world seemed to be this pale color, not really gray and not really white. Calming almost. Today was the day. Everything Richard had worked towards, fought for him in some cases, finally arrived. In just a few hours, Richard would marry the most eligible woman in London and the next aim in his life was to start. To secure his family line but that always seemed like a fun bit. Still, as joyous as the day seemed, when Richard woke up his thoughts were filled with Mathilde. It was to be expected even, given all that was about to happen. Margaret was to be Richard’s wife now. Mathilde had to remain in the past but even just thinking that made Richard’s heart feel as if it was being torn in two. 

A few hours before the ceremony, the world was just beginning to wake up but Richard had been up for hours. Just before his servants woke, Richard made the hour and a half trip to Egham, a town in Surrey where the Rawston’s reside and where Richard had buried his first wife. It was important to him that she was close to her family, despite how her mother seemed to hate Richard after his daughter’s passing. The polite thing would have been to stop in, pass on his hello’s while in town but it was his wedding day, Richard did not want to sour the mood. Soon enough, the carriage pulled up at the church and Richard stepped out, yellow chrysanthemums in hand. Richard did not dawdle. Instead, he walked right up to Mathide’s resting place while his heart was ripping itself to shreds with every step. Kneeling down, Richard pulled at the very sparse weeds growing out of the ground. “Hello my love. I’ve missed you but I gather you’re aware of that.” Richard laughed despite feeling a lump forming in his throat. “I couldn’t not come today and you know why. Well, I hope you do.” How oddly silly and comforting at the same time it felt as Richard spoke to a slab of stone that he imagined was Mathilde. He had to believe she could hear him, even just for this moment. “I am to be married again Matti, I’m sure you would like her but I want you to know that I’ll never forget you. My heart will still beat for you but I have to do this. I have to make her happy.” And that meant giving Margaret as much as his heart as Richard possibly could. As he spoke, the tears fell and his voice broke a little. “I will always love you Matti. As long as I breathe, as long as my heart beats in my chest, that will never change.” There was nothing else to be said. Richard put his fingers to his lips and then to the part of the stone with Mathilde’s name. It was a goodbye but it wasn’t final, nothing with Mathilde could ever be, and then he left to start his life as a newly married man. 

When Richard arrived back at his London residence, his staff were running frantically around. Richard didn’t have much of a chance when he was ushered into his room to bathe and then to dress. His wedding suit was perfect. From the black wool trimmed tailcoat to the vest that Richard had a hand in designing, it all served a purpose. The waistcoat was gold with small amounts of subtle emerald green thread in the embroidery detailing. Everything matched, everything was unified. Everything was to his satisfaction so why could his nerves not go away?

At St.Georges, Richard stood at the end of the aisle, fidgeting with his hands as he waited for Margaret. The vicar had eyed  Richard cautiously, as if he were expecting him to burst into flames at any given moment to which Richard continued to smile at the man. It was rather sad to look out at his side and see only a small amount of faces but that’s what today was. It was a promise and the start of his new family, embracing Margaret into his life as well as her family so why did every second he stood alone at the altar feel like an hour had passed?  And then it happened. The vicar asked all to rise and Richard took a breath, waiting as his eyes fixated on the doorway. Margaret was to enter St. George’s as Margaret Mulgrave but together they would leave as Earl and Countess Harcourt, to be a true partner to one another. All Richard could think of is just how excited he was to see her walk down the aisle. 

[margaretmulgrave]

A courier arrives upon the doorstep of a tall apartment in Kensington, carrying a white paper box with a simple card in pale blue. It is addressed to Lady Margaret Mulgrave, with a whimsical mallet drawn at the end. Inside are three tea-cakes, one chocolate, one brandy pear, and one red raspberry -- each topped with a puff of meringue. And the card simply states: Cake is not love, but when one has sworn the matter off entirely, another hopes it will suffice. -- H.C.

“What is this, Margaret?” Helena Mulgrave walked in with the white parcel and attached blue note retrieved from the courier. “Did you order from one of the shops?”

“Hmm?” Margaret didn’t look up from her needlework right away, she just wanted to finish this one thread…

Her attention was all but demanded when her aunt placed the box in front of her on the table firmly. “It’s addressed to you, and I do believe it’s edible.”

The younger woman let out a short breath, setting her work aside and sitting forward to examine the package curiously. The croquet mallet was impossible to miss, and before she even opened the note Margaret was already forming suspicions.

Cake is not love, but when one has sworn the matter off entirely, another hopes it will suffice. -- H.C.

The message was…cryptic in a way. She did not know what to make of it exactly, other than Harry Cadogan was perhaps a hopeless romantic in a world that would not so easily bend with him. Was he still flirting with her? Margaret frowned deeper, tucking the note away for later, deeper inspection.

“Well?” Aunt Helena leaned forward, eager for answers herself. “An admirer?”

Margaret opened the box, smiling faintly at the delicately made cakes. Love or lack thereof aside, what a treat. “A peculiar gentleman.” She finally answered her aunt, “Ring for tea, will you?”

@harry-cadogan

[suffrageinstitchesnz]

Maker’s name: Dawn Ditchburn

Petition sheet number: 425

Person honouring: M. [Margaret] Dawn

Relationship to maker: Same name

Margaret was born in Cootehill, County Cavan in Ireland in about 1847 according to information on her son’s military records. She was born at the height of the potato famine when many families in Ireland struggled to cope. One solution for such families was to emigrate to countries such as New Zealand.

Margaret was likely Margaret Simmons who first appears in New Zealand records in 1886 when she married William Dawn, himself an emigrant from Great Grimsby, England – and a painter.

They had two children, William in 1888 and Francis in 1889. They both served in World War 1 – Francis in Gallipoli – and returned. 

Interestingly on sheet 425 of the petition, which Margaret signed, rather than listing a street address next to the signature each was ‘witnessed’ instead, most by the same person.

The 1893 and 1896 electoral rolls confirm the name is Margaret Dawn, living in Mulgrave Rd [sic] and ‘married’, in the Wellington electorate. William was also here. According to newspaper court reports, their home was opposite a ‘bawdy house’.

Margaret was a widow when she died in 1922, aged 75 years. In 1896, William fell from a ladder in Featherston St and was fatally injured. Margaret was buried in the same plot as William at Karori cemetery.

Panel materials: Tie-dyed fabric, silk and rayon threads, wool and recycled fabrics, and buttons from my stash.

Unique ID number: VRS.2019.47