Her Father’s Last Wish #6
Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet his, her affection for him filling them and threatening to spill over. “I do,” she whispered. She could not speak louder, not now when her heart was so full and her thoughts tossed about like a ship on a stormy sea.
Words were unnecessary, as John—her own John!
—pulled her into an embrace. Her head nestled against his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.
The comfort and rapture she felt in his arms, she had never thought possible.
How could he still love her? She had spurned him so callously and gave nothing but a reason for offense for much of their acquaintance.
There was a sound at the door, and Dixon emerged.
Instantly, they sprang apart but not before Dixon cried and ran away.
Margaret looked into John’s eyes, laughing.
The expression she saw on his face stole her breath.
A rare, genuine smile had relaxed his features, and nothing but sheer joy could be emanating from his eyes.
By instinct, she placed a hand on his cheek.
He turned his face and pressed a kiss into her palm, making her gasp and her breath come quickly.
Turning her hand over, his lips next met her knuckles.
He said nothing; he did not need to. His head dropped to hers, touching their foreheads together for a moment.
Then, he drew back and sought her eyes for permission. She nodded a little and shyly smiled.
So slowly she thought she might die from holding her breath, John leaned toward her until finally their lips touched. It was full of all the tenderness she had come to expect from him, and behind the first meeting lay an inherent strength.
His hands came up to hold her face, his fingers caressing her cheeks.
She had no wish to leave, and her fists clung to his lapels.
Again, and again, he met her lips, his slanted this way and that to change the angle and pressure.
Each new touch sparked the joy of discovery in her, resulting in the sure knowledge that she would have a blessed marriage indeed.
Margaret had lost all sense of time in the bliss known in John’s arms, but eventually, he ceased his ministrations. Pulling her head to rest above his heart again, she smiled to hear its rhythm matched her own racing one.
Margaret was in his arms and accepted his kisses.
John had thought he could die a happy man sheerly for knowing her.
Now, he knew the folly of an inexperienced man and the real pangs of unrequited love.
Now, he understood the wretched pain Mr. Hale must have felt at the death of his wife and the loss of her these last months.
How could he ever return to a life without the sweet temptation of Margaret in his arms and the joy of her lips on his?
To think he must leave her this night! But soon, he need never go without her again.
They sat together, her cuddled in his embrace, for many minutes while their breath slowed. “My love,” he said, at last breaking the silence that had been between them for so long, “what did you mean to tell me about your brother when I had come in?”
“Oh,” Margaret attempted to straighten, but he held her fast in his arms. “I had forgotten about it,” she said as she settled against his chest again.
“You said you were unworthy and had lied but had no excuse.” He wondered what she could have meant.
He could well guess that she meant lying about her presence at the train station the night of Leonards’ injury just after her mother’s death.
Certainly, if her brother had some reason to hide his identity, then she had a very good excuse to lie.
Haltingly, she told of what she called a sin. She explained about Frederick and his part in the mutiny. She regretted that she had panicked and lied. She had forgotten entirely that John had witnessed her at the station and thought only of saving her brother.
He had no difficulty in believing her or excusing her.
The son of Mr. Hale could never be the worst sort of man that would resort to the overthrow of a sane captain.
John even doubted that the young man would have been the primary conspirator.
Having been a magistrate, it was no news to him that the law might have wrong information and would set an innocent man as the guilty party.
“What I regretted most of all, though I would scarcely admit it even to myself, was that I knew you must have hated me for lying. What must you have thought of me!”
“I will not deny that I was sorely tempted to hate you. My heart was still in agony from your rejection, and here I thought I had proof of some weakness in you. I could not do you the injustice, though. I could not reconcile it with the lady I had known and loved. Perhaps wiser men would determine they had been fools and loved falsely to spare themselves the misery and torment I inflicted upon myself in quiet hours, but I have always known what sort of man I am. I am not the sort who would love a woman with so little honour.”
A tear trickled down Margaret’s face. “It is exactly that which makes me so unworthy. Where was my honour when I lied for Frederick’s sake?
I had faced down a rioting crowd not many days before.
I argued with you about business and workers, and I know not what else I scarcely have an understanding of, but before that officer, I shrunk back and lied. Where were my honour and bravery then?”
“My Margaret!” John cried and pressed a kiss to her hair.
“You have been brave for so long, the champion of so many. It is only right that you would have a need to rest. Do not forget that you were overwrought by your mother’s demise, and the fear for your brother was genuine.
I hate to say it, but I think it very unlikely that Frederick would ever get a fair trial in England.
It is best that you kept everything quiet until he was safely abroad.
Anything but a flat refusal would have continued the questioning, and then everything would have been at risk. ”
“But the lie! I cannot forgive myself for the lie.”
“Do we not all make mistakes, dearest? Do we not all have regrets? What matters is how we move forward with our knowledge of a better way. I have no doubt that you will turn away from such things. You are not now enjoying that you have hidden a thing and got away with it.”
“Surely not!”
“Then let us talk no more about it. I am grateful for this test in our love. I would not deserve you if I threw you off for such a thing. You might not have discovered your feelings for me if not for the issue. Indeed, I shall be as thankful for it as I am for your father moving you to Milton and for his final wish. I would not have pressed you into it, but I had no hope of a second chance without it.”
“Do not say that. Somehow, our hearts would have come to an understanding. I am exceedingly grateful for Father and his wisdom. I had doubted him when we moved from Helstone, but it proved the perfect plan in the end. I will not consider what I have lost here. Mother was never strong, and Father would never live long without her. How should I have found you in any place but Milton? How would I have understood you if I had?”
“Perhaps it is not for us to know, my love. The Lord’s ways are mysterious, indeed. Do you really understand me?”
“I think so. Although, perhaps not as well as I will after I have been Mrs. Thornton for many years,” she added shyly.
“Margaret Thornton of Milton! How well that sounds!”
Margaret did not reply. Instead, with a smile on her face and a gleam in her eye, she pulled John’s head down for a kiss. Mr. Hale’s final wish had been the unspoken desire of their hearts, and John would forever remain grateful for the gentleman and the woman he now held in his arms.
Born in the wrong era, Rose Fairbanks has read nineteenth-century novels since childhood.
Although she studied history, her transcript also contains every course in which she could discuss Jane Austen.
Never having given up all-nighters for reading, Rose discovered her love for Historical Romance after reading Christi Caldwell’s Heart of a Duke Series.
After a financial downturn and her husband’s unemployment had threatened her ability to stay at home with their special needs child, Rose began writing the kinds of stories she had loved to read for so many years.
Now, a best-selling author of Jane Austen-inspired stories, she also writes Regency Romance, Historical Fiction, Paranormal Romance, and Historical Fantasy.
Having completed a BA in history in 2008, she plans to finish her master’s studies someday.
When not reading or writing, Rose runs after her two young children, ignores housework, and profusely thanks her husband for doing all the dishes and laundry.
She is a member of the Jane Austen Society of North America and Romance Writers of America.
Rose Fairbanks’ books include: The Gentleman’s Impertinent Daughter, Letters from the Heart, Undone Business, No Cause to Repine, Love Lasts Longest, Mr. Darcy’s Kindness, Once Upon a December, Mr. Darcy’s Miracle at Longbourn, How Darcy Saved Christmas, Sufficient Encouragement, Renewed Hope, Extraordinary Devotion, Mr. Darcy’s Bluestocking Bride, The Secrets of Pemberley, Pledged, Reunited, Treasured, and A Sense of Obligation