Chapter Text
It was only a matter of time before John figured out the exact nature of the secret she had been keeping from him for the past few weeks; already he was beginning to grow suspicious of the occasional whispered exchange between his wife and his mother, and while Margaret was deeply grateful to Hannah for her continued discretion over the matter, she knew this couldn’t go on much longer. She had been able to conceal the worst of her complaints from him so far, but there was only so much a corset could do to hide her increasing figure, and it wasn’t as if she could contrive to wear one whenever they came together as husband and wife.
She knew John would be hurt that she had chosen to keep this away from him, and the secrecy had been steadily eating away at her conscience; her heart longed to share this happiness with him, and yet, she selfishly kept putting off the conversation she knew she needed to have with her husband, for she didn’t know how she was going to bear it when he ceased his nightly visits altogether.
For all that Doctor Donaldson had explained that there was no need for her husband to remove from her bed until much closer to her confinement, she could scarcely help but fear that John would find no reason to come to her when informed she was with child already. She felt sure Aunt Shaw would be horrified if she ever learned of her niece’s wantonness when it came to her wifely duties, and while she found some measure of comfort in Edith’s confidences about the most intimate aspects of her marriage, she could scarcely ignore the impropriety of a wife that desired her husband more than he did her.
As she had done many times over the past year, she let her mind drift back to the wondrous reveal that had been their wedding night; until that moment, she had not even imagined such pleasures existed, and when her husband had found his bliss in her arms for the first time, she knew for sure that Margaret Hale had ceased to exist, and Mrs John Thornton had been reborn from her ashes.
Many a time she had found herself distracted in the middle of her day, body and soul craving that deeper connection she could only seem to find in their most intimate joining; she was only too painfully aware that such unladylike thoughts were unbecoming of a parson’s daughter, and yet, as hard as she tried, she could not seem to make them cease completely. Instead, she had rejoiced when John’s visits had started to grow more and more frequent of late, and while she blushed to think that might have been a direct consequence of her tearful confession to his mother, she could not find it in herself to regret her actions.
Tonight, she would tell him. They would lie together one last time before she let him know he was to be a father. Margaret prayed she would be strong enough to face the long months bereft of the comfort of his embrace that would inevitably follow.