~*~

5.

Margaret had always had complete and utter trust in her father, in his steadfast devotion to his faith and feeling utterly safe in the knowledge that he would do the right thing by his wife and daughter. Now, her confidence had been rocked – at least in the latter point – and oh how she wished it were not so.

Then again, she wished for a lot of things following their recent move to Milton. She wished that her father were not quite so principled when it came to his faith and his perceived moral duty. She wished that he had picked anywhere but Milton. On her worst days, and feeling shamefully guilty for her thoughts, she wished that, as much as she wearing of living in London whilst there, that living with her Aunt Shaw had been an option or that her mother wasn’t quite so frail and despondent that Margaret had to be strong for both of them.

Nonetheless, her wishes were nothing more than that, as fragile as the wisps of cotton that seemed to drift everywhere in Milton. No, wishes would not do her any good and so Margaret squared her shoulders and determined to make the best of her new life in Milton.

4.

Not for the first time in her life, Margaret Hale couldn’t help but wish that she had a true female role-model that she could talk to, that she could confide in. Someone that would listen to her opinions and give her advice.

Margaret knew that her mother loved her but Maria Hale had never really shown much interest in her only daughter, more so since their move North. Perhaps they would be closer had Margaret not spent the majority of the past nine years in London with her mother’s sister. Then again, even when she had lived in Helstone all year round, Margaret had always been closer to her father, following him around like a little shadow. And besides, ever since they moved North, Maria Hale did little more than her needlework and lament to Dixon about their current situation. So, while Margaret knew that her mother loved her, she hardly felt that she could confide her about Mr Thornton’s proposal and Margaret’s subsequent refusal.

Margaret supposed that she could write to her cousin Edith but that would hardly result in rational advice. She loved her aunt and cousin dearly – Edith was more a sister than a cousin – and knew that she was greatly indebted to them for the care that they had given her but, as she grew older, she had had the feeling that she was little more than a toy to occupy Edith. Their advice would always be given in favour of London and they certainly would never have entertained even the possibility of Margaret marrying a Northerner. They might listen to her and give her advice but it would not necessarily be advice that was in Margaret’s best interest.

Her only hope had lain in Bessy Higgins for, despite the disparity in their positions, Bessy had been the true friend that Margaret had always longer to have. As fiercely independent and proud as Margaret herself, Bessy had not been afraid to voice her concerns or speak her mind, even if it differed in opinion from Margaret’s. She had been a ray of light in the darkness of Margaret’s world since they had moved to Milton and however much she wished her friend had not passed so soon, Margaret was still able to cherish the short time that they had had together.

3.

Margaret didn’t – couldn’t – truly relax until she heard word from Frederick that he had made it safely back to Cadiz. The situation with Fred had been so far from ideal it was untrue but, at the very least, he had been able to see their mother before she died. More than ever, Margaret wished that things were different where her brother was concerned.

She wished that Frederick had never had the misfortune to serve under Captain Reid, she wished that the Navy were not quite as ruthless in hunting down mutineers, that as a result Frederick wasn’t forced to live a life of exile away from his family.

More than anything, she wished that it was not necessary to keep Frederick’s presence a secret, not just from their family but also the few friends that they had made in Darkshire. She wished that Leonards had never appeared in Milton, that he hadn’t recognised Dixon. She wished that she had been able to explain to Mr Thornton about that evening at the station, that Mr Thornton were not a magistrate and that him knowing about Frederick would not have put him in a compromising position. With every fibre of her being, Margaret wished that she had had the opportunity to improve his opinion of her, even just a little.

2.

In the aftermath of her father’s death, there were so many things that Margaret Hale wanted to do, that she wished to do, but it was so hard to rouse herself from the apathy that she seemed to have fallen into. She wished that she could tell Mr Thornton everything, she wished that she didn’t have to leave Milton, she wished that she weren’t beholden to her aunt, she wished that Edith would stop trying to throw herself and Henry Lennox together. She wished that she didn’t feel as though she were moving through an endless fog every waking moment.

It was all so hard to summon the energy though until, some three months after her father’s death, she woke feeling more like herself than she had done in a long time, determined to reclaim her life.

1.

Margaret couldn’t help but feel strangely deflated as she sat on the train back to London with Henry Lennox sat opposite. She had summoned all of her courage for the day and it had been unnecessary for she had not had to face the man that she loved, the man that she was sure hated her. She had considered so many different ways that today could have gone but she had never considered the possibility that Mr Thornton would not be in Milton. His mother had said that he was in Le Havre meeting with potential investors and Margaret dearly hoped that that was the truth and not something that Mrs Thornton had concocted to keep Margaret away from her beloved son. After all, the Thornton matriarch had never hidden the fact that she disapproved of Margaret Hale and didn’t think her good enough for her son.

Margaret couldn’t help but wish desperately that she had had the opportunity to see Mr Thornton in Milton, that it had been him and not Mrs Thornton that she had run into inside Marlborough Mills. She had wanted to deal with this face to face but, unless she related her plan via letter which she really did not wish to do, she was going to have to request Mr Thornton come to London and meet with her there. Dimly, Margaret was aware that Henry was explaining why the train had come to a halt but she was already out of the carriage, eager for the opportunity to take a few moments to herself. And then she saw him, the very man that she had been wishing – hoping – to see.

John Thornton.

+1

Margaret awoke to surroundings that she did not immediately recognise and the unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation of a strong arm banded around her waist. Slowly, the events of the previous day came back to her as she lay there, utterly peaceful and content. Her dearest wish had come true. Yesterday she had donned a beautiful but simple dress and walked across the fields to church where the man she loved waited for her surrounded by their friends. She was no longer Margaret Hale, she was now Mrs Margaret Thornton. All of their misunderstandings lay behind them, all that was ahead of them was a future together.

“What are you thinking, my Margaret?”

The deep voice of her husband – her husband! - rumbling in her ear caused Margaret to shiver pleasantly, even as she turned within the circle of John’s arms to rest her chin on his chest. “Just how happy I am.”

Margaret watched the way that John’s face softened even further at her words and marvelled, not for the first time, that there had once been a time when she hadn’t found him handsome. Now, she counted her blessings that he was her husband and she could call him hers, just as much as she was his. Unable to resist, she lifted her head, smiling as John met her lips halfway even as his hands coaxed her closer. Finally pulling away to lay her head upon his chest, Margaret could feel small kisses being planted over her temples and the crown of her head before a soft whisper reached her ears.

“That makes two of us, Mrs Thornton.”