Her Father’s Last Wish #5
You must marry John. In Mrs. Thornton, you will have a mother again. Did not the Lord say he would comfort the motherless? In my pupil, I think you will find enough of my qualities—as many as you would wish in a husband and not a father, at the least.
You must marry John because I see evidence that your heart is attached to his.
You covet news about him. You smile at the mention of his name just for the pangs of regret to make it vanish.
I do not know all that has passed between you, but I know nothing is impossible with God.
Let Him lead you, if only you would have a bit more faith.
The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.
Your loving father
Margaret pressed her father’s words to her heart.
Recalling her Bible lessons, she knew God had told Abraham he would be a father of many nations through his son Isaac.
Then, years later, He ordered Abraham to sacrifice his son to prove his faithfulness.
Obediently, Abraham set out. At the last moment, an angel appeared and commanded Abraham to stop.
Another offering was provided for the sacrifice.
It was an oft-quoted passage used to illustrate the force of faithfulness in dire times.
Margaret had attempted to live it week after week, and month after month of life in Milton.
She could hardly understand her father leaving his parish, let alone choosing Milton as their new home.
It had damaged her mother’s health and given seemingly nothing but heartache.
Everywhere she looked, she saw unkindness and unhappiness except in a few shining examples in what some would call the least likely of places.
Now, a weight lifted from Margaret’s heart.
Perhaps there was some purpose to Milton after all.
Maybe even the loss of her mother and father might have a divine order.
She would know soon if she could face her fears and talk with Mr. Thornton truthfully about Frederick.
Her father called on her to have faith, and she did not wish to disappoint him.
“Take heed, little heart. If a sacrifice must be made, one will be provided.”
Choosing to stay occupied in her current task, Margaret continued to clean her father’s chamber until she heard Mrs. Thornton and the servants she had brought leave.
She ate a little and rested at Dixon’s command; then when she knew it was the most probable time for Mr. Thornton to arrive, she awaited him in the drawing room.
John’s errands regarding business and Mr. Hale were finished, but his feet did not find their way to Margaret’s home. Instead, he found himself lingering at the mill and inviting Higgins into his office on some fabricated subject of importance.
“You been wrestling with it, I see,” the sharp-eyed employee observed.
“What do you mean?”
“With marrying Miss Margaret. More than one person heard the old parson say it. I thought you liked the girl, but you have the look of a man who would rather hang than wed.”
John shook his head. He would gladly marry Margaret tomorrow if only she came to him with love or even esteem.
Did not he know her low opinion of him and all manufacturers?
All that before seeing the proof with his own eyes that she loved another.
Indeed, he would much rather face the gallows than have Margaret only out of duty.
Only, why could she not have loved him? Why did time and distance not separate her heart from the handsome young man whom she clutched so desperately and yet seemingly had no future with?
He knew the answer. When Margaret loved, it would be for her whole life.
She was not the sort of fair-weather sweetheart who would lose affection for a man, regardless of his income or fortunes, due to circumstance.
He could at least do her that justice. Indeed, even if she had been like the least reputable of her sex and her heart so changeable, it could never look on him in favour.
“Mr. Hale ordered me to take care of her. He likely did not mean for me to marry her, and if she has a mind to refuse, I will not press my case.” He had thought about it all day.
No matter the glimmer of hope he had last night, he could not force his hand like this.
She could regret forever what she agreed to in a moment of weakness.
“Take care of her! Why, she is not alone in the world.”
“Her London relations and friends are abroad.”
“Well, London, you say. But, I had thought the young master who went to Spain—” Higgins abruptly stopped speaking. “Perhaps I should not say more.”
“The young master—what—do you mean a young gentleman?”
“Aye, he was. Younger than me, at least, and I reckon younger than you as well. For sure, he was older than Miss Margaret—her older brother.”
“Her brother!”
“That is what I am saying, if only you would listen. She could go and live with her brother, the old parson’s son. He lives in Spain and was only in England when the mother was dying. Some big secret with the law.”
“Her brother,” was all John could echo.
Without so much as a farewell to Higgins, John was out the door of his own office. He had not stopped to gather his hat or gloves. He thought only of Margaret. She had a brother!
As he tramped about town to her door, he thought little even of his own relief.
That she might not be in love with another man brought some comfort.
However, it was not a vindication of her approbation for him.
No, what he considered most was that Margaret had been ripped from a brother at some point in her life.
That even now, as they mourned over another parent, he was not present to share in that pain with her.
On top of all her other anxieties, she had to wonder about a brother and his welfare!
John had no right to claim her. She ought to be with her brother. He would do everything in his power to bring about a reunion of the siblings and gain her passage to Spain.
He knocked on the door and stepped inside before the servant could even say two words. He showed himself to the drawing room, without paying attention to the woman and whether she said Margaret was prepared for his visit or not.
He entered the room and saw Margaret staring out a window with her back to him. She had not been looking out the window when he approached the house. She must have heard his knock and anticipated his arrival. Her choosing to stand so far from him was only further proof of her disavowal of him.
Indeed, John was struck with a memory from another encounter in this room.
She had quietly entered while he stared out the window, pondering what words of love he would tell her.
It was the day his heart had been sliced open.
Releasing her of Mr. Hale’s wishes could not further harm it than it had been done that day.
Still, he stood and watched her in silence for a moment.
This would be the last he would see of her—he could not bear to see her again when her choice was made clear to him.
He took in every shape of her figure, memorized every hue of her hair and the path of each curl and braid, her queenly posture, even the proud hold of her shoulders and head.
He would never forget her. He knew it now as he had known it on the day he first offered his heart.
She had saved his life, and now his life would be lived for her, in memory of her.
Each beat of his heart would serve as a monument to the one woman he could ever love.
While she might soon wish to forget her time in Milton, he never could forget Margaret Hale.
Finally, determined to break the spell, he stepped forward. She heard the noise and turned. Just when he opened his mouth, she fell into his arms, crying.
“Oh, Mr. Thornton. I am not good enough!”
“Not good enough! Not good enough for what?” Mr. Thornton’s arms tightened around Margaret as his voice was filled with wonder and surprise.
She pulled back and dropped her eyes. Immediately, he lifted her chin, and she had no choice but to see his luminous dark eyes full of softness and tenderness. Her heart rallied. Was this for her? Could he have even a morsel of affection for her still?
“You know I have lied, but you cannot conceive as to why. I know I have lowered myself in your eyes. I have no excuse.”
Mr. Thornton led her to the sofa, where he did not relinquish her hand. “What are you attempting to tell me? Is it to do with your brother?”
“My brother! I did not know you knew of him. Did Father tell you? And yet he never told me you knew.”
“No, Mr. Hale never told me he had a son. I learned of it only a few moments ago from Higgins. He had not meant to tell me new information. He meant to save you from the misfortune of marrying me.”
He began to withdraw his hand, but Margaret tightened her hold. “It would be no misfortune.”
“You know my heart, Margaret. I have spoken of it to you once before, but never again without your welcome. I will not force you into matrimony with me or see you marry any man for the sake of a home and security. Say the word, and I will send inquiries about a ticket for you in passage to Spain.”
It was too much. She had been pressed to her breaking point and could contain herself no more.
He spoke of sending her away, and her heart should shrink back in fear.
However, he also spoke of the time when he claimed to love her.
This was the hope she had prayed for, the little ray of sunshine in her gloom.
With eyes focused on their entwined hands, and with a trembling chin, she said, “I do not wish to go away. Please, Mr. Thornton—John—will you not let me stay and love you?”
“Love me?” he cried in astonishment. “I had not dared to hope—but is it true? Do you really love me? Margaret!”