Looking to the Future #6
Mr. Thornton stood before the hearth, his back to the room, but turned at the sound of her footsteps.
If she looked tired and pale, she thought, he appeared utterly downcast by a crushing load of care.
She had thought last night what a blow the loss of Marlborough Mills had been to him, given his early losses as a boy—his father, his family status—and the years of hard work and sacrifice required to raise his mother and sister up from poverty and earn his place as Master.
She remembered Mrs. Thornton’s proud words: ‘Go where you will—the name of John Thornton of Milton is known and respected amongst all men of business.’
Once she had thought the idea ludicrous.
Now, she believed that his mother’s proud words did not do him full justice.
Mrs. Thornton had spoken of the respect men of business had for him, but Margaret believed that every person of worth would note and admire his spirit, his intelligence, his humility, his sufferance in sorrow, and his innate kindness.
No, she had not done him justice and would regret it to the end of her days.
She admired him—nay, she loved him. It was long overdue for her to admit it—even though she believed he would not have her now.
Still, she had it within her power to help him in his time of need and would not shirk from putting her idea before him.
‘You asked me to come this morning, Miss Hale.’ His voice was strong and assured, in total contrast to her unsettled and quivering tone.
She rushed in her explanation. ‘I am so sorry Mr. Lennox is not here. He advises me in business affairs and would explain all much better than I could—’
‘I am sorry that I came, if it gives you grief. Let me go to Mr. Lennox’s chambers and I will try to find him.’
‘No!’ she exclaimed, holding up her hands as if to physically prevent his departure.
‘No, please, do not leave. I wanted to tell you how grieved I am to find that I shall lose you as a tenant, to hear of your situation and the ills that have befallen you. Mr. Lennox tells me that things are sure to brighten—’
‘Mr. Lennox does not understand,’ replied Mr. Thornton, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice.
‘Why should he? He is just starting out on his own path to success and full of hopes of obtaining all he desires. Half my life is gone, and what do I have to show for it? Miss Hale, I would rather not hear Mr. Lennox’s opinion of my affairs.
He does not understand—how can he? He has not suffered failure or reversal. ’
‘Mr. Lennox may not understand, but he has great faith in your abilities. As do I,’ she said and raised her luminous eyes to his.
‘I have a proposition for you. Please, do not speak until I have finished explaining it.’ In great agitation, she walked over to the desk and began rummaging among the papers strewn across its surface.
‘Oh—here it is! Henry drew me out a proposal—’ She saw his face darken with disapproval.
Thinking he objected to discussing business with a woman, she pressed on, determined to make her point.
‘I wish he were here to explain it, he would do so much better than I should. But, he is not here.’ She held the paper out to him, brandishing it like a sword.
‘This shows that if you borrow some money of mine—eighteen thousand and fifty-seven pounds, lying just at this moment unused in the bank, and bringing me in only two and a half per cent—you could pay me much better interest and could go on working Marlborough Mills. So, you see, it is a business arrangement, and it would be all to my advantage—’
‘Miss Hale.’ He cut across her rambling speech, compelling her to silence.
He took a cautious step closer, ignoring the papers she still held out.
‘I understand from several acquaintances that congratulations are in order for you and Mr. Lennox. Mr. Colthurst told me the banns were all but complete.’
‘Oh!’ Margaret cried, her cheeks flushing in agitation. ‘Why can’t people mind their own affairs? Why must they thrust their noses into mine?’ She dropped the papers on the desk and wrung her hands, close to vexatious tears.
‘Is it true?’ he pressed her, coming closer still. She glanced quickly at him and saw he was as discomposed as she, frowning in disapproval.
‘No, it is not true.’ She mastered her emotions and resumed her search for the papers he must sign to make their arrangement official.
To her surprise, he moved purposefully around the desk to stand beside her. ‘And is that all you want from me—a business arrangement?’
‘Yes, it would be a business arrangement. You would not be obliged to me in any way....’
She held out the terms of the agreement to him once more, and he took it from her hand. Instead of reading it, he set it aside and with slow deliberation took her hand in his. His thumb caressed the back of her hand in slow, hypnotic strokes.
She glanced up at him and dropped her eyes, unable to hold his passionate gaze. A wild longing rose within her and, with a reckless gesture, she raised his hand to her lips and kissed it.
‘Margaret.’ He had never before said her name, and certainly had never addressed her in such a tone of wonder and tenderness. ‘Margaret!’ he exclaimed again, relentless in his pursuit. ‘Look at me.’
She shook her head, incapable of speech. Her heart was too full of strange and wondrous emotion, but the blush crimsoning her neck and face told him all that he wanted to know.
He raised her chin until her gaze met his. ‘Take care—if you do not speak, if you do not tell me to leave, I shall claim you as my own. My feelings have not changed. Since almost the first I saw you, I have loved you—’
With a small gasp, she moved into his embrace, standing on tip-toe so that she could press her face against his. He felt her lips upon his cheek, and he pulled her into his embrace, turning his head swiftly to kiss her sweet mouth.
After a prolonged moment of delicious silence, Margaret murmured, ‘You cannot have forgiven me, Mr. Thornton. I know I am not good enough for you—you told me as much that day when you said any passion on your part was done—that you were looking to the future.’
‘I spoke a great deal of nonsense. I was angry and heart-sore, and I wanted to wound you as you had wounded me. I know now how wrong I was to suspect you, but I did not know at that time that your silence was to protect your brother.’
She started and raised her head to meet his loving eyes. ‘You know? Oh! I did not think that Mr. Bell was able to convey the truth to you.’
‘It was not Mr. Bell but Higgins who told me—and to whom I owe a debt of gratitude.’
While she absorbed this news, he caressed her cheek. ‘If I were to ask for your hand once more—would you answer me differently than that day in Milton?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will you be my wife?’
‘Yes.’
He kissed her again, a sweet, lingering kiss. ‘Margaret, I have loved you almost from the first moment I met you. I feared after you refused my proposal that you were lost to me forever.’
‘Oh, don’t remind me of that day—how unkind I was—and confused.
When you left the house, I had the strongest impulse to run after you, to tell you to come back.
I did not know it then, but I must have cared for you.
’ She trembled but bravely met his eyes.
‘As time went on, I realized how good you were, how kind and caring, and how I admired—and loved you.’
He took her hand and kissed her palm, a swift and loving kiss. ‘Your refusal of my proposal made me reflect on my behavior as I never had before. It made me consider those who worked for me, and to try to understand them better and strive to work with them for our mutual success.’
‘Will you accept my business proposition?’
‘Yes, I will accept your generous offer and use it to reopen the mill—I would be a foolish man to say no. But reopening the mill is nothing to the gift you have given me today. You are the prize, Margaret.’
She could think of nothing to say, but clung to him and he could feel her tears on his cheek.
‘Nay, lass, do not cry. Our tears are at an end now that we are together.’ He gently disengaged her arms from his neck and exclaimed, ‘Look here! I have something to show you.’ He drew out his pocket-book from which he removed some dried petals. ‘Do you know these roses?’
‘They are from Helstone!’ she exclaimed, ‘Where did you get them?’
‘I found them in the hedgerow. You’d have to look hard.’ He smiled and placed the petals in her hand.
‘You have been there? When were you there?’
‘I went there on my return from Havre. I wanted to see the place where my Margaret grew to be what she is, even when I had no hope of ever calling her mine.’
‘But I am yours now,’ she gently chided him.
He smiled ruefully. ‘What a lovesick lad you must think me, to treasure up blossoms when all hope seemed gone.’
‘Would it help if I told you I had kept an article of yours since the day of your proposal?’ When he gazed blankly at her, she moved around to her reticule and removed a pair of worn leather gloves that he recognized as his own.
‘You left them, and I have kept them by me ever since. I did not understand why at first, but now I know.’
He held out his hand for the gloves, but she shook her head. ‘You must pay me for them,’ she teased, and he gladly acquiesced.
‘How shall I ever tell Aunt Shaw?’ she whispered, after some time.
He laughed. ‘And how shall I ever tell my mother?’
She took his hand and threaded her fingers between his. ‘We shall tell them together.’
‘And you will marry me?’ He moved closer and whispered in her ear, ‘And use my Christian name?’
‘Yes, Mr. Thornton—John,’ she amended, blushing. ‘I shall wake up on a Sunday morning, put on my favorite dress, and walk to the church, as I have planned since I was a child. Now that I know what it is to love, I shall marry. But no one but you.’
Nancy Klein: I have been writing fiction for quite a few years now, and surprise!
I find I love it. I owe a huge debt of thanks to Trudy for reading what I write and offering incredibly helpful insights (and wonderful friendship).
I am a writer and editor by trade, so I enjoy beta reading for other writers.
Besides playing in Milton and Nottingham, I enjoy finding treasures at yard sales and auctions, running/hiking and race walking, working with dog rescue, listening to NPR (especially This American Life and Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me), travelling, singing Broadway scores, reading, drinking good wine, and hearing a good joke.