Chapter 2

Mr. Thornton sat in the quiet of his office in the mill, his eyes drifting over the room to finally rest on the clock, whose faint ticking had drawn his dazed attention. He felt strangely calm at the moment. He had offered his heart once again, and now he could only wait for her response.

When would she find the note? What would she do? He had acted so impulsively, he had not had time to consider all the consequences of his deed.

What if he was mistaken? Perhaps he had been too eager to see what was not really there. Whisperings of doubt began to grow louder in his unsettled mind. Her demeanor towards him had softened. He knew this much, but did it mean that she cared for him?  It was possible that she was just being kind to her father’s friend.

But she had not wanted to leave Milton. No, more than that, she had said she had grown fond of it. He wanted to believe that he was the reason, and she had looked at him in such a way that he had felt his hope soar. Had she affection for him after all? What of the man at the Outwood Station? Had she given him up?

He thought he had seen longing in her eyes, but was it just the despair and loneliness of her grief? Her father had just died; it would be natural that she should feel uncertain and alone. He had wanted so desperately to believe that she might care for him that perhaps he had imagined he had seen it in her eyes. What a fool I have been! he thought, as the onslaught of his doubts battered against his wounded heart.

A loud rapping on the door interrupted the train of his tumultuous thoughts.

“Who is it?” Mr. Thornton barked, annoyed to be disturbed in his private enclave.

“It’s me, Higgins,” Nicholas clipped. “I’ve a message from Miss Margaret,” he announced through the door.

Mr. Thornton was at the door in an instant, flinging it open.  Higgins wore a slight grin, as he surveyed the bewildered expression of the hopeful lover.

Mr. Thornton stood staring, his body frozen in anticipation. Had she found the note already? “What is it?” he croaked, finally finding the presence of mind to speak.

“She asked me to tell you that her heart belongs in Milton,” he relayed carefully, watching the master closely.

Mr. Thornton was thunderstruck. She had answered him! His heart clattered in his chest, and his breath quickened as he attempted to comprehend the meaning of her words. Her heart belongs in Milton. To him? He’d asked for a sign if her feelings had changed. She had sent a message to him as a sign! She did care for him! She was telling him that her heart belonged to him!

“You’ll want to be quick about it, if you mean to catch her,” Higgins prodded, his smile having grown wider as he watched the myriad emotions play over the master’s face.

Mr. Thornton’s head jerked up to meet Higgins’ stare, surprised to discover someone speaking to him. His brow furrowed slightly and his eyes were distant, as he faintly nodded in acknowledgement of Higgins’ words. He bolted out of the door, as Higgins quickly stepped out of his way.

“You’ll be wanting a horse, she’s well on her way to the station by now!” Higgins called out after Mr. Thornton’s retreating figure, hoping his words would penetrate the befuddled brains of the Master of Marlborough Mills.

Thinking only that he must reach her in time, Mr. Thornton’s hands trembled as he helped the flustered stable boy ready the chestnut-brown stallion. A moment later, he mounted the horse in one sweeping motion and galloped away from the mill.

The steady clopping of the horse’s hooves matched the drumbeat of his heart. As he rode on, he began to realize the enormity of what was happening. If she truly loved him, she would become his wife! He must ask her again. The expectation of her acceptance seized him with a joy so profound that his body ached. How long he had dreamed of receiving her tender affections!

The freezing air whipped through the thin cotton of his sleeves, and numbed his hands, but he gave little heed to the cold, vaguely aware that he had neither coat nor gloves.  Instead, he fought to concentrate on what he should say. He only knew that he must try her again, and that he must hurry.

As he arrived at the station, he recalled the last time he’d seen Margaret there and the fleeting image of her in the embrace of the other man came unbidden to his thoughts. He pushed the vision aside as he jumped off the horse, swiftly hitched it, and ran in search of her, looking franticly across and down the length of the station platform. He glimpsed her a short distance away, standing apart near the open train.

“Miss Hale!” he called, striding toward her with his heart pounding in his chest.

Margaret gasped to hear his familiar voice, and turned to see Mr. Thornton making his way toward her. She was arrested by the sight of his tall, commanding frame without the traditional black covering of his coat.  Her eyes were drawn to the shape of his firm arms visible through the snow-dampened cotton sleeves.  She lifted her gaze to admire the strong, angular lines of his face and noticed his dark hair was glistening with melted snow.  His blue eyes seemed to pierce through her with a heated urgency, and she quivered within to think that such a man should love her.

“I have received word from Nicholas,” he began, catching his breath. There was no time to waste. “Margaret, I have never stopped loving you,” he declared fervently, his eyes searching hers. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice cracking with the intensity of his emotion.

“Margaret!” Aunt Shaw broke in, arriving at Margaret’s side in a breathless flurry, confusion spreading over her full face.  “Mr. Thornton!” she exclaimed with considerable shock, as she realized he was not properly attired. “Whatever is the matter? Is something wrong?” she asked with increasing alarm, looking quickly back and forth between the two of them.

Mr. Thornton opened his mouth, but no words came out. Margaret hastily intervened. “Mr. Thornton had something of significance to relate,” she offered.

Aunt Shaw cast her attention to Mr. Thornton, her expression growing dour in dubious consternation.  Noticing the stunned reaction of Mr. Thornton to her quick reply, Margaret continued on. “You see, Mr. Thornton and I have recently become engaged,” she announced with some authority, not daring to look at Mr. Thornton.

Mr. Thornton’s heart leapt in his chest in exaltation. She had accepted him! He was dumbfounded to hear those words from her mouth. Her very boldness thrilled him, yet caused a shadow of doubt to cross his mind. Had she another reason to accept his offer? Had he won her heart after all? It seemed too much like a dream.

Aunt Shaw was speechless as she looked from one to the other in an attempt to verify such an incredulous statement. “What? Is this true?” she sputtered. “Why have we not been told?” she demanded irritably.

“We have not had the chance to tell anyone,” Margaret replied honestly. She bowed her head to avoid the gaze of her aunt. “Everything has happened so suddenly since father died,” she said quietly, remembering the sorrow of the past few days.

“I see,” Aunt Shaw mused, her agitation mollified a little by the mention of Mr. Hale’s death.

A smile crept over Mr. Thornton’s face as the full realization of what was happening came over him. She had announced her intention to be his wife!  He had won her at last!

Margaret looked cautiously to Mr. Thornton to see how he had reacted to her brave deception, and was rewarded with a glorious smile. She smiled in return to think of how she had pleased him.

“Really! This is most irregular!” Aunt Shaw exclaimed in some confusion, not quite knowing how to continue. “This is hardly the time to conduct such a conversation,” she chastised.  She turned to face Mr. Thornton. “You are welcome to visit us in London, Mr. Thornton. However, Margaret must be given proper time to grieve for her father. You must understand.”

His radiant smile evaporated, and his expression darkened. Careful to sound composed, he was able to formulate the appropriate response. “Of course, I understand,” he managed to say, while his entire being screamed in silent agony at the thought of being torn from her now.  He wanted only the chance to hold her in his arms and hear her tell him that she loved him.  He swallowed hard, forcing himself to exude a tempered manner he was far from feeling.

He slowly turned his gaze to Margaret, and his breath stilled in rapturous wonder to find her soulful eyes regarding him with tender yearning.

They remained locked in a breathless stare for a moment until the final call for the London train was announced and Mr. Thornton reluctantly moved forward to help them board. Aunt Shaw was safely inside as Margaret stood in the doorway, facing him. He reached out to her and taking her hand, placed a lingering kiss on the back of it. He wanted nothing more than to pull her to him and enfold her in his arms.

He watched in amazement as she brought the hand he had kissed up to her face and pressed it to her own lips. The gesture was at once so innocent and yet so sensual that he felt his heart melt at her beauty while a kindling of heat rose from deep within him.

She lifted her luminous eyes to meet his mesmerized stare. She smiled wistfully at him and quickly whispered, “Write to me.” Then she turned to go.

He took several paces back to keep her within his sight, his eyes riveted to the object of his adoration. She seated herself in the window to discreetly look out, with her aunt seated across from her. They gazed longingly at each other while the train hissed and creaked as it pulled slowly away.

He didn’t move for several minutes. It was the second time he had watched her leave him today. He felt trapped in some Greek tragedy, with the gods laughing in derision at his plight. But then the heady recollection of what had occurred dawned on him. She had accepted him! She would be his wife! He, a cotton manufacturer of Milton, was to marry the lovely Miss Hale of Helstone! He sighed and closed his eyes to allow the reality to settle within.