Margaret of the North (7 page)

"Yes," she blurted with
a sigh of relief.  "The letters to my aunt and Edith should arrive there
tomorrow if I post them this morning.  The one to Frederick will take about two
weeks and I am not certain how long it takes for the mail to arrive in
Argentina.  I have heard only once from Mr. Bell and sadly, I don't know how he
is but I must send him my good news anyway."

"I will walk with you to
post your letters.  We can go right after breakfast."

"You do not need to.  I do
remember the way to the post."  She smiled, amusement in her eyes, and
added, "Besides I would like to go to Greens afterwards for some
clothing."

"I can take you there later
but we'll have to visit the parson first after we post your letters.  We have
to set a date, my love."

"Yes, of course."  She
replied, somewhat startled.  She knew she was about to get married but it had
not completely sunk in that it would happen sooner rather than later.  The day
before had been so dense with momentous events that she never thought of what
needed to happen immediately as a consequence of her decisions.  It was clear
enough to her that, from that day on, her life would be in Milton.  But it
never occurred to her to consider the propriety of her actions—the social
constraint which dictated that her wedding should take place as soon as it
could be arranged.

She sipped her tea slowly and
sadness overcame her at the thought that her brother, the only immediate family
she had now, could not come to her wedding.  With her father gone, she only had
one sincere wish on her wedding day—that Frederick could give her away.  But,
of course, that could never be.  Perhaps, she could persuade John to visit him
and his wife in Cadiz sometime in the future.  She was anxious for the two most
important people in her life to meet, a wish that became more compelling with
John's admission of jealousy.  Knowing both of them, she was certain that they
would like each other, once they got acquainted.  For her part, she was eager
to meet Dolores.

She had been silent a while and
John surmised her mind was faraway.  With a gentle squeeze on her hand, he
interrupted her thoughts, and said, pressing her hand to his lips, "I
would marry you today, if I could.  I have waited for you a long time but I
will defer to your wishes."  Then, he added mischievously, "Doesn't
every young woman want to make the day she gives a solemn promise to love for
always a day to remember?"

She smiled brightly and replied
in the same vein.  "That, I suppose is the conventional wisdom.  But I
used to think that, if that day ever came for me, all I would do was put on my
best gown and walk through a lush arbor into my father's church, preferably on
a beautiful morning in early summer with birds singing and roses of all colors
perfuming the air."

"Did you doubt that day
would come for you?"

"I had all those months of
reflection after Papa died and I realized I was not prepared to marry just
anyone.  Edith was always inviting the captain's friends and his friends'
friends."  She stopped abruptly, lowered her eyes, and was silent for a
moment before she added, "With Mr. Bell's legacy, adventurous spinsterhood
became an attractive possibility."

He asked, with a wicked smile,
"Did I rescue you in time from those friends or deprive you of an
adventure?"

She replied archly, "Would
not a life with you be an exciting adventure?"

"Nothing but," he said,
smiling.  Then, he asked, a little worried, "Is marrying in Milton so
bad?"

"No.  Oh no!  I did not mean
to say that at all.  I know I described Helstone but, seriously, aren't the
vows we make what really matter?  Still, I cannot deny that I would have wanted
everyone I care about to have been there.  But that is not possible, is
it?"  A lump caught in her throat and with a tremulous smile, she added,
"We will have a spring morning, anyway."

John, at a loss for words,
stroked her hand in sympathy.

She turned pensive and said, in a
sad voice.  "I wish, at least, that Papa were here.  How happy he would
have been to see us together.  He liked you very much and looked forward to
your conversations.  I am certain he was sorry that I did not accept your
proposal.  But my kind father rarely questioned my actions, never forced me
into decisions I did not want to make."

"We were indeed very close
friends and, perhaps, he does know wherever he may be that now, he is truly my
father as well."

"It is futile to wish that I
had known myself better when father was still alive or that I had been more
mature because, in that case, he would have been more at peace knowing he was
leaving me with you."

John, touched by her words,
pressed her hand to his lips once again.  "Your father was at peace when
he passed away."

They sat quietly as she slowly
sipped her tea and he waited for her to finish.  He was getting impatient,
eager to be alone with Margaret, away from where they could hear his mother and
the servants darting about busily with their daily morning tasks.

"Go get your letters and
let's get out of here.  There is too much going on in here and I want you to
myself for a while."

**************

The way to the post from
Marlborough Mills was familiar to Margaret although, in the past, she had often
walked in the reverse direction from the post to the mill.  Outside the mill
gates, the city buzzed and clacked, bustled and jostled in all the ways she
remembered.  She smiled up at John who tenderly squeezed the hand she had
hooked around his arm, "Do you remember any of these, my love?  It is
noisier and dirtier than London but it is more vibrant."

"That, it is."  She
agreed with a smile, occasionally craning her neck to peek into store windows. 
"It has not changed all that much and yet everything seems different
somehow."

"It will become much more
familiar and I hope you will like it better this time around despite its being
so different from Helstone."

"I might have exaggerated
the virtues of Helstone."

"Perhaps, you just have a
different perspective now."

"Perhaps.  I do miss the
roses that grew wild around the Parsonage.  Apropos of which, I wanted to thank
you for the ones you sent me this morning."

"Did they please you?"

She smiled brightly at him. 
"They made such a difference in the bedroom, like a ray of blazing
sunshine.  They also gave out so much of the same fragrance that the roses at
the Parsonage greeted me with every morning when I opened my window."

"I am happy that they give
you such pleasure.  I knew you would be up late today after everything that
happened yesterday and all the letters that I am sure you stayed up throughout
the night to write.  I wanted this day, our first full day together, to start
right for you."

"Well, it has.  How could it
not?"  She gazed up at him, her eyes glowing.  "But how did you get
those roses and where from?  You could not have had time to get them
yourself."

"You are right that I had no
time but I do have my means.  I went to the mill last night and sent William
for the flowers early this morning.  You remember him.  He still comes to check
around every morning and evening."

"I do, indeed.  He is quite
loyal to you."

"Yes," he replied
simply.  They walked some distance before he resumed, "There is much you
have yet to learn about Milton that I am eager to show you."

She nodded and flashed him her
most bewitching smile as she clutched his arm with both hands, conscious and
amused that she was mimicking the gesture of possessiveness that Anne Latimer
had made in front of the church on Fanny's wedding day.  The smile he gave her
back was different, however; it reached his eyes, infusing them with an inner
glow that brightened his whole face and he lifted her hand to his lips before
tucking it back around his arm.  They gazed at each other for a long moment,
insensible of everything else around them, rapt up in a world of their own.

People on Milton's busy streets
seldom failed to notice the tall lean figure of the well-respected manufacturer
John Thornton as he hurried about his business.  They impassively noted his
presence and swiftly dismissed it as one of those usual occurrences that
happened in the course of a day.  But they were used to him passing briskly by,
scowling and purposeful.  It was certainly new and unusual to see him leisurely
strolling along, gazing deeply into the eyes of a handsome young woman who most
of them vaguely recognized but whose face they could not place.  Thus, many of
the storekeepers and other denizens of the city who saw them that morning were
inevitably curious and, by noon, speculation about what it meant circulated in
many parlors.  By evening, these speculations were embellished with gossip from
servants in the Thornton household.  It was declared, to the dismay of many
young women undeterred by his loss of fortune, that Mr. Thornton  had finally
chosen a woman to marry—a Miss Hale from the south who had indeed lived in
Milton less than two years and then left to live with relatives in London when
both her parents died.  She was away for nearly a year and Mr. Thornton  had
then gone to London and brought Miss Hale back, after her year of mourning, so
they could get married in Milton.

**************

As it turned out, the parson
counseled John and Margaret to set their wedding date for two weeks hence at
the earliest.  This was welcome news to Mrs. Thornton who wanted to invite
important local business people and friends.  One never knew when such a
gesture might be useful to John when it came time for him to reorganize his
business.  She requested Margaret to write her aunt to tell her that she was
willing to take care of inviting Milton guests and to organize a dinner after
the ceremony if Mrs. Shaw  and Edith attended to certain details such as
flowers, decoration and whatever wine and meats they could bring from London. 
She knew exactly what to do while her aunt, being from London, would not have
any idea how such things were done in Milton.  Besides, only a year ago, she
had managed the preparations for Fanny's wedding.

Margaret was about to protest
that she would prefer a small intimate ceremony with only family.  But she
doubted that Mrs. Thornton could be talked out of inviting John's business
associates and having a proper celebration.  Margaret held her objections in
check and, instead, thanked her for her kindness.  With no time for written
invitations, Mrs. Thornton kept John and Margaret busy visiting his business
associates and extending invitations in person.  She herself went to see quite
a few people on the guest list.

Mrs. Thornton was, in fact, glad
to have the preparations for the wedding to occupy her time and focus her day. 
She felt increasingly alone.  Margaret, respecting the time that mother and son
had together by themselves in the morning, naturally fell into the habit of
coming down in the morning when John and Mrs. Thornton had been at breakfast
for some time.  Mrs. Thornton was grateful but was also keenly aware how
Margaret, without any effort, commanded her son's attention the moment she came
into the room.  While anyone else might only see him smile tenderly at
Margaret, Mrs. Thornton could feel his excitement and see the fire behind the
sparkle in his eyes.  She knew her son quite well, knew that John was impatient
for the wedding to take place.  It had been two years since he first proposed
to Margaret—too long for him who acted without hesitation and delay once he made
up his mind or knew what it was he desired.

**************

After dinner on Margaret's second
evening in Milton, Mrs. Thornton pleaded fatigue and left the couple in the
drawing room.  She had had a tiring day of visits to friends and food purveyors
and, in any case, she thought she ought to give the young couple the time to be
alone together.

John was indeed impatient to be
alone with Margaret and as soon as his mother was out of the room, he got up
from his chair and pulled Margaret up from hers and into his arms, "All
day, today, I have wanted to hold you in my arms but someone else was always
around."

She gazed up at him with
glistening eyes and a shy smile and snuggled in his arms, her head on his
shoulders but he tenderly lifted her face up to his.  "And I have been
wanting to do this as well," he added, pressing his lips lightly on hers.

Holding Margaret in his arms at
that moment, kissing her and knowing her love was his—after months of hopeless
longing and believing he would never see her again—had an intoxicating effect
on John and he began kissing her more deeply.  He felt her tremble and go limp
in his arms.  She did not draw back, but placed her arms around his neck as if
to support her flaccid body, and she responded with an artless ardor that thrilled
him, that surprised him.  She seemed neither afraid nor shy of her feelings. 
He kissed her more passionately until, breathless and trembling, she pulled
back.

Taking his face in both her
hands, she cried in a low quivering voice, "John!"  She stared into
his smoldering eyes and pleaded, "Stop, please."

He stared back at her as he
steadied himself to regain his self-control, "I'm sorry, I got carried
away."

She placed her fingers gently on
his lips, "No don't be.  I am not.  I need to get accustomed to this; that
is all."  She caught her breath and resumed, still a little breathlessly,
"I was surprised at how strong my own feelings were and how they seemed to
just rush out of me."

"I understand.  I did not
mean to rush you into this," he replied in a voice still somewhat
tremulous from the struggle to rein himself in.

He led her to the sofa and sat
down next to her, enfolding her in his arms as she leaned back against him. 
"I had only intended to hold you like this.  I wanted to hold you so many
times today for so many reasons, sometimes merely because you are here."