In Consequence: A Retelling of North and South (8 page)

His limbs were leaden, for although he was eager to secure her word, he was afraid to leave her, lest the spell be broken and she decide against him. He studied her demure pose for a moment before turning to go. As he climbed the stairs, he raised a silent prayer that she had spoken from the heart.

“Mr. Hale?” he called out from the doorway of the study where the older man sat at his desk, pouring over some ancient text.

“Is that you, John?” he responded with surprise, doffing his glasses and rising to greet his favorite pupil with a broad smile. “I did not expect you until tomorrow evening.”

“I have come on a matter of personal business,” the Master stated with some apprehension.

“Of course, of course ... come in,” said the former vicar, gesturing amicably. “What can I do for you?” he asked as he sat back down in his chair.

Mr. Thornton opened his mouth for a moment before he could formulate the words. “I have come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage,” he announced with gravity, scarcely able to believe he was indeed asking his trusted friend for permission to marry his lovely daughter.

Mr. Hale’s pleased expression turned into one of considerable shock. “Margaret?” he asked vacantly, attempting to recover himself. “Why I should like nothing more, John, but...ahem…perhaps you might consider trying to court her first. I don't believe she is quite appreciative of your finer qualities...” he stuttered, not wishing to offend his friend with his honest fear that Margaret might reject the proposal.

“She has already given her consent,” the younger man answered with a growing smile.

If Mr. Hale had been surprised before, he now struggled with absolute incomprehension. He stared at Mr. Thornton for a lingering moment a creased brow and a slackened jaw. He had been quite certain that Margaret detested the man and all that he represented. How was it that she had suddenly changed her perception of him?

Despite his internal confusion, he mustered a pleasing smile for the man before him. “That is wonderful news, John! Wonderful indeed, I assure you,” he replied as he stood up to shake his future son-in-law’s hand. “But would you perhaps take the trouble to send Margaret to me? I would like to speak to her a few minutes,” he fumbled, half congratulatory, half wary.

Mr. Thornton’s smile faded at this request. He dreaded that Margaret might be given an opportunity to reconsider. “Of course,” he answered, and left to carry out his task.

His eyes sought her before he had even reached the last few stairs, anxiously wondering if she was still there — if she was still willing to stand behind the word she had given him, the one word that had the power to change his entire life.

His uncertainty was mildly relieved as his gaze rested upon the solemn figure standing mutely in the room where he had left her. His footfall alerted her to his approach, and she looked up from her dazed reverie, her large soulful eyes meeting his, inspiring in him a desperate desire to enfold her in his arms and never let go.

“Your father wishes to speak with you,” he relayed with a slightly furrowed brow. A cold fear stabbed at his heart and he began to feel the familiar pall of dread that he should live a lifetime alone.

She gave a slight nod of acquiescence before silently sweeping past him to follow her father’s summons.

He watched helplessly as her graceful form slowly mounted the stairs. When she finally disappeared, his panic rose to smother the budding wonder of her acceptance. Had she been in earnest in her response, or was it merely an outburst for which she would repent? His hope refused to surrender. Surely she would honor the word she had spoken. She had promised to become his wife. His chest ached in intensified longing at the thought of it.

He began to pace amidst the cramped but pleasant confines of the room.

*****

“Margaret, Mr. Thornton tells me you have accepted his offer of marriage. Is this tr
ue?” Mr. Hale asked, bewildered of the girl standing before him with bowed head.

“Yes, Father,” she admitted in soft tones, lifting her gaze to meet his uncomprehending stare. How could she explain what she had done when she barely understood herself? “Do you not approve?” she asked, flustered by his somberness and desperate to be assured that she had not been foolish — that she had instead acted wisely in accepting him.

“Of course I should approve, my dear. I only wished to understand how it is you have changed your opinion of the man so quickly. I was certain that you did not carry him in very high regard. Truth be told, I had no idea that my favorite pupil had a tenderness for my dearest daughter. I was quite convinced you had put the man well off the trail, as it were, with your rather strong opinions of Milton men and their ways,” he confessed, regarding her expectantly.

“I have been rather harsh,” she admitted, realizing how strange it must appear to him that she should have accepted the man with whom she had so stringently quarreled. She could not make sense of the swirling mass of emotions that assailed her.
What had she done?
It was no use to fathom the depths of it at present; she had given her word and must now stand behind it.

“I believe I can see a kindness in him now,” she faltered. “He is honest. You believe him to be a good man, Father, do you not?” she asked, attempting to convince herself of the rightness of her choice.

“Yes, indeed. There is no question of that, my dear. He’s one of the most impressive men I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. I only wanted to be certain that you came to your own decision without feeling any … obligation that is not pleasant to you,” he clarified with concern. He did not want her to enter into such a sacred bond merely to please him or the expectations of others.

She froze at his words, momentarily wavering in her response. A haze of dizziness threatened to unsteady her as she considered the consummate, lifelong commitment that lay before her. She would be Mr. Thornton’s wife forevermore if she verified her acquiescence. Panic threatened to rise at the thought that her freedom had been eclipsed — that she would be bound to one whom she did not fully understand. But, battling against the tide of fear, she felt strangely compelled to trust her decision, feeling a faint reassurance that all would turn out for the good.
 

“I have answered him of my own accord, Father,” she stated softly, but with unequivocal clarity.

“Well then, my dear, I give you my heartiest blessing,” he said with a heartwarming smile as he lovingly grasped her arms. “I hope you will be very happy. I must tell Mr. Thornton to take special care of my precious pearl,” he elaborated with poignant fondness, giving her a gentle pinch on her smooth cheek.

“Papa,” she blurted with unguarded emotion and thrust herself into his arms like a child.

He held her for a cherished moment, reveling in the chance to hold her as of days of old. The years had passed quickly, and it was hard to fathom that she would soon leave them.

“Now then,” he announced, releasing her from his hold and stepping back. “We must not keep the poor man waiting,” he remarked with a smile.

*****

At the first sound of movement, Mr. Thornton stilled before taking measured steps to the doorway to observe Margaret and her father descend the stairs.

Her expression was unreadable. Keeping her gaze lowered, her angelic face showed neither tremor of remorse nor trace of inward contentment as she calmly — gracefully — approached.

A desperate glance at Mr. Hale, however, revealed a happy father’s grin. Slowly, the hopeful suitor let his breath out in glad relief.

“Congratulations, John,” Mr. Hale enthused as he carefully shepherded his daughter forward. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to welcome you to our family,” he continued, shaking the dumbfounded man’s hand with vigor. “I know you will take excellent care of our precious Margaret,” he declared.

“Thank you,” the awestruck master managed to return, inevitably casting his gaze at Margaret for a sign of her willing concurrence. At last, she lifted her eyes to her future husband, and he felt his heart twist with aching rapture to see them filled with hopeful trust.

Their eyes locked in stilled wonder, searching for the truth in each other’s gaze.

“I must go tell Maria,” Mr. Hale announced merrily, leaving the newly betrothed couple to stand alone in the front hallway.

Margaret tore her eyes from his questioning stare, feeling a warm flush rise to her cheeks.

Mr. Thornton continued to study her in amazement, her feminine blushes and meek behavior a stunning revelation. Had she feelings for him? He yearned to reach out and pull her close — to taste from her lips her acceptance of him.

But he would not frighten her with his passion. He took a long breath to bring himself to reasoned action. The regular duties of his day still awaited him. “I’m afraid I must return to the mill. There is much to be done now that the strike has ended,” he stated, breaking the silence between them.

Snapping to life, she raised her face to his. “Have your men all returned to work?” she asked interestedly, all maidenly modesty vanishing in her concern.

He regarded her with a mixture of amusement and admiration. “For the most part, yes,” he replied.

“And will you take them back? What of your Irish?” she asked, the gleam of compassion showing in her blue-gray eyes.

He could not help but smile at her blunt inquisitiveness. “I have not yet decided upon the right course of action. I suppose that many of my Irish will like to return home,” he answered forthrightly, meeting her gaze with a sparkle of pleasure in this exchange.

She averted her eyes in embarrassment to realize the impertinence of her insistent questioning. “I’m sorry. I have no right to intrude upon your business decisions,” she stammered meekly.

“Not at all. I am pleased that you take an interest; you have every right ... now more than ever,” he replied warmly, letting his gaze rove briefly over her figure and the soft features of her face.

She blushed at his words and felt the heat of his admiring scrutiny.

Silence again invaded the space between them.

“Perhaps I may see you tomorrow evening when I come to my lesson,” he suggested hopefully.

Her eyes fluttered to find his once more. “Yes, of course,” she answered politely with a trace of a smile.

The corners of his mouth drew upwards in satisfaction. “Then I will take my leave of you today,” he announced with reluctance.

She followed him toward the door. He had just begun to step out when she noticed his hat still hanging on the wall. “Wait!” she called out.

He turned with a start, hoping to hear some tender word from her lips. He watched as she retrieved his tall black hat and handed it to him with a pleasing smile.

He grasped it with both his own hands but made no move to remove it from her hold. “Thank you,” he said in a low, whispered tone as his stark blue eyes attempted to convey all that he wished to say.

She nodded in faint accord and fluttered her lashes in distraction as he took his hat from her clasp.

He turned to go, securing the door behind him. He ambled somewhat dazedly down the stairs and into the street. His eyes swept heavenward, where he spotted a patch of blue amid the encompassing gray of Milton’s dreary sky.

The crease of bewilderment upon his brow slowly receded as the corners of his mouth edged upwards into a wide grin.

Margaret stood in a daze. The silence of the hallway reverberated with the words he had earlier spoken —
I wish to marry you because I love you.
She had not wanted to believe him, certain that she had never done anything to earn his admiration.

In a flash she recalled when Henry had surprised her with an offer of marriage. Was this how it always was with men — springing their hidden adoration upon unsuspecting women? How was it that she was never aware of their interest or intentions until it was too late?
she mused in breathless confusion. How was a girl to know when a man’s attentions were fraught with the hope of making a match?

Could the man she had sent to face the riotous mob truly be in love with her?
she wondered.

She remembered again that, although he had been disconcerted by her abrupt dismissal, Henry had spoken with even composure.

Mr. Thornton’s voice had held no such measure of tepid detachment. On the contrary, he had frightened her with his passionate words and fevered tone. No one had ever spoken to her in such a way!

She shivered and hugged her arms about her. She should have stopped him, but she had been powerless to refute his urgent timbre. His declarations had mesmerized her. His promises had enveloped her in a comforting embrace, coaxing her to abandon all resistance with his ardent honesty.

He had been in earnest. She did not understand it. Nor could she divine how it was that she now stood here as his intended.
His intended!

It was too overwhelming. She roused herself to move at last. She would go to see
Bessy, she decided, as she headed upstairs to tell her parents of her intention.

“Margaret,” Mr. Hale called out, as he slipped out of his wife’s quarters, “your mother is eager to see you.” He summoned her with a knowing smile.