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Margaret had not expected to see him again especially not here nor so unguarded in her thoughts. Yet there he stood on the threshold to Mrs Shaw's dining room as if her heart had summoned him.
Her gaze lingered, unbidden. She awaited the threatful moment, when his eyes would find hers and she would be forced to conceal the feelings that shook her very core. She knew she should say something, move towards their guest like the rest of the house did but she could think of nothing proper to say - nothing that wouldn't turn into a flood of confessions pouring right at his feet, and so she stood frozen in place. When their eyes did finally meet, she was surprised to find no guarded pride nor harsh feelings there. Instead, he smiled and bowed his head lightly, gaze lingering just the fracture of a moment too long.
Mr Thornton had faced many battles in life. Failure, loss and poverty. Yet none of it compared to standing before Miss Hale after all this time. He was painfully aware of every inch of distance that stretched between them yet conscious of the fact, that it was the only thing that kept him upright. He should have gone to her, greet her properly after such a long time, yet he stood unmoving, overwhelmed by the desperate sound of his heart. He was thankful for the ambush of Mrs Shaw's household. It drowned out the sound.
Henry Lennox stepped to her side.
"You've no idea what an agreeable, sensible fellow this tenant of yours is....I can't conceive how he contrived to mis-manage his affairs."
Margaret felt an uncharacteristic anger rising up her chest, yet she bit her tongue, suppressed the urge to defend Mr Thornton. It was not her place.
"I met him on the train here, back from Milton."
"On the train to London?" She could not hide the clear surprise in her tone. She wondered whatever business should bring Mr Thornton near London. Her eyes flickered back towards him as if his very posture could convey to her his secrets.
"Indeed. It was quite convenient. He seems to have old accounts to settle - or so I understood. The poor fellow doubtless has many tedious calls to endure, now that he is bankrupt."
It always shocked Margaret how people could so easily talk about the ruins of another man's life and how easily they were to judge.
"Anyway," Mr Lennox continued his speech as if he was merely talking about a change of the weather. "I took it upon myself to invite him for dinner. As your tennant, he would be forced to come around here sooner or later and you know Mrs Shaw never minds a pretty face. Do you know what's for dinner? I am so hungry after having survived Milton for half a day."
When Margaret noticed that Henry did indeed wait for a reply, on what he believed was a cheeky remark, the only thing she managed was a simple "No." Rendered speechless she was at the ignorance of the people around her and how the veil had only lifted from her eyes now.
"Then we shall find out."
Margaret let herself be absentmindedly guided from Henry to her seat. She could not recollect, that she had sat down or what was for dinner. Too occupied were her thoughts and too distracted was she by the fact, that Mr Thornton, tenant of her heart and property was dining with them tonight.
Margaret had made it through dinner almost entirely avoiding Mr Thornton although it was the total opposite of what she wanted to do. She listened of course, attentively to every word and always seemed aware of what exactly it is that Mr Thornton was doing but she did not speak a word herself nor did she seek his attention, eyes always unseeing and focused on her plate. Only occasionally, when she could hear Mr Thornton's deep, clear voice in conversation with someone else, did her eyes wander up, and moved over his stern brows, that seemed to soften in the candlelight, over his stoic features that seemed so less in control without the title of master edged into his soul and to his lips, that hid that precious smile, she had seen so rarely, yet missed dearly.
"Are you two not acquainted from Milton? Margaret never spoke of you."
Mr Thornton's eyes were on her instantly. She felt caught in her spying and needed a moment to swallow down the disappointment she believed to have seen behind Mr Thornton's eyes and to comprehend what the question was.
Mr Thornton seemed to see the struggle within her and schooled his own expression before he spoke, saving her fron Mrs Shaw's bold inquiry.
"I am sure Miss Hale had other pressing thoughts on her mind than old acquaintances from Milton." He spoke with deep compassion and grief for the loss he knew Margaret had endured but Mrs Shaw didn't seem to understand the sensitivity of the topic and blindly probed on.
"So you are acquainted, you say?"
If Mr Thornton was annoyed at the repeated inquiry, he didn't show. His features were marble, his eyes were kind, he wore a polite smile that never quite reached his eyes.
"I was Mr Hale's scholar. Miss Hale and I met occasionally, although I believe it to be quite understandable that I hold her time in Milton in higher regard than she might."
"Ah." Mrs Shaw looked like someone who was presented with a riddle, ashamed to admit she didn't quite understand it fully. However the mention of Mr Hale had done it's job and she seemed pleased enough with the answer to restrain from asking more questions on the matter.
"It is not true." Margaret was startled by the sound of her own voice. She looked down quickly, surprised by the intensity of her feelings and the storm raging beneath her shawl. She drew it tighter. It was too late to gather the words back. It had been said. She lifted her chin and looked straight at him. "I was very happy there."
The echoes of her father's words came to her mind. She had said how hard a world it is to live in and he had replied with a smile "So it is, my child. We feel it so just now, at any rate, but we have been very happy, even in the midst of our sorrow." And she understood now that he was right.
She ate on quietly and no one dared mentioning Milton again. Margaret did not see but would she have held his gaze a little longer, she would have found the old admiration in his eyes that only a fond heart could provide and she would have seen him smile. The smile she so liked.
The evening had turned late and they have all of them retreated to the study. Most have retired close to the hearth. Only Henry Lennox and Mr Thornton stood alone in a far corner talking about business matters, when suddenly Edith jumped from her seat, announcing that if she heard one more word of trade, she would never allow Henry to come to their house again. Mr Lennox only smiled and moved towards her, provided with the opportunity to explain why one should always and only talk about business but Edith did not want to hear it. Mr Thornton remained, standing alone and Margaret could no longer suppress the pull. She leaned against the wall next to him, avoiding his eyes, that she knew were resting intensely on her.
"I am sorry about the mill, Mr Thornton." She hadn't said his name in a long while and was surprised how involuntary her tone softened around it.
There was a pause, it stretched, while Mr Thornton struggled for words. He had expected the topic to come up eventually, yet was surprised at the way it presented itself to him.
"Please, do not trouble yourself. I shall adapt." He settled on at last. "I have lost far greater things than that." There was a vulnerability in those words he said, that had Margaret wonder about the 'what'. "I only regret that I had to let down my workers when there was so much yet to accomplish." He did not know where all the words came from. He usually used them sparsely. Perhaps he tried to trick her eyes to look up at him. "Higgins, he talks of you ever so fondly and the little one reads the Times by now. "
"Does he?" Margaret smiled so warmly, her eyes shone under her lashes and Mr Thornton couldn't suppress the smile that spread on his own lips. Her gaze rested still at her feet but he felt like some of the distance between them had vanished. His heart sang and ached ever so strangely in his chest as if to mock him. How could he have done so long without this.
"They miss you terribly."
Their eyes met, finally. When at first she was startled by the rawness in his tone, the vulnerability in his eyes shook her and threw her off balance, off her safety boat. She has never learned how to swim and so she sank, under the pounding waves of blood rushing through her heart.
"I miss them too."
She confessed, knowing that both of them were painfully aware of how far 'they' and 'them' stretch.
"Miss Hale," he could no longer hold back what weighed so heavily on his mind. "I regret deeply that my own pride and fear prevented me from being there for you when you most needed a friend." Although his words were rushed in a quiet hush, the tender breathlessness in his voice made it clear that they were sincere. She noticed the little furrow between his brows and wanted to smooth it away, if not by touch, then with words alone.
"You did more for me and my family than most would ever have done."
"Yet my own conduct never rose beyond the bounds of duty."
He seemed strangle distressed at saying the words and Margaret herself felt similar about them. She did not notice how their hushed talk was drawing attention from the other side of the room. She was too wrapped up by the word 'duty' and all that it implied. It had been her duty, to save him or anyone else in that crowd of strikers, she had said. It had been duty that brought him to her doorstep the very next day, she had thought. That was so many months ago, yet every word still lingered in her consciousness.
"Duty seems to be all we have left." Margaret's heart ached with a strange pent up longing as she said the words, eyes cast down once again. Margaret realised how bitter it sounded. "Oh, I am talking nonsense. Please forgive me Mr Thornton."
"There is nothing that needs forgiving." He struggled with the urge to place his hand under her chin and lift her eyes back up to him. Come back to me, he thought. Would he have done it, he would have seen the unshed tears there. Instead, he moved away from the wall, turned fully towards her, shielding her from prying eyes, and gently took her hand into his own. The action chased all her unkind ghosts away. Involuntarily her hand tightened faintly around his.
"Higgins and I have built a communal kitchen in the mill together." He didn't dare mention that he ate there too although Margaret would have probably liked the idea. "Whenever I was forced to reason the idea with others, I kept saying that it was the only logical thing to do. The expenses of food when bought wholesale are much lower and workers who are well-fed are hard-working too." Margaret didn't understand why he was telling her but she hung on every word as if her life depends on it. "It was only my duty. That is what I said but duty had nothing to do with it." He drew in a shaking breath and Margaret felt his thumb trace her skin. His restraint was utterly spent. "Until now, I have lacked the humility to confess how profoundly I have been altered by you. Permit me then, to do so now. You taught me to listen where I once spoke too eagerly, to value gentleness where I once mistook it for weakness. Through you I found that kindness can come a long way and that in the end we have all of us one human heart. There is far more than duty between you and me, Miss Hale." He was utterly breathless and Margaret equally so, although she hasn't uttered a word. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and simply because all the words in the world could never convey how she was feeling for him just now, she leaned in.
"Miss Hale, Mr. Thornton," came the sharp voice from behind them and Margret suddenly became aware of herself and how close they stood. "I hope you are not conspiring any business plans."
Margaret's hand fell away as she moved one step away from him. It cost her all the strength she ever possessed.
"Business is best done after breakfast." Henry smiled but there seemed to be something calculating behind his eyes.
"But didn't you just say there was no bad time for business tal -" Mrs Shaw's elbow found Edith's side provoking a loud "Au! What was that for?" and an eye roll from aunt Shaw as the only response.
"I think it best we all retire to bed. Oh, is it so late already?" Mrs Shaw finally exclaimed into the stretching pause she couldn't bear. It was not particularly late but the message was clear.
Mr Thornton too seemed to regain his consciousness. Margaret didn't fail to see the disappointment in his eyes when he turned. His voice was almost firm when he spoke. "I have overstepped my welcome. I will leave at once."
He avoided her eyes as he gathered his hat and moved away from her. It undid Margaret, watching him go. She couldn't bear it a second time. He is to be off and she had no certainty when or if they would ever meet again. The sudden interrupting of their proximity and her stepping away from him might have been the last error in a long list of wrong-doings but she wanted to continue to err if it only meant he would be there.
"Mr Thornton!" Her voice had nothing of the quiet humbleness of peak femininity yet she couldn't care less. He turned towards her with such abrupt hope in his eyes that Margaret had to fight hard not to throw herself at his feet and beg him to stay.
"Will you be here for breakfast? I believe we have business to discuss."
It was clear that Mr Thornton looked down to suppress the smile that came so eagerly upon his lips. Margaret saw it all. She watched it with pride, knowing she was the reason for it. When his eyes came back up, Margaret was transfixed by the twinkle within. She would always always always remember it.
"I promise." He simply said, as he bowed lightly. Margaret was sure Mrs Shaw would remember it too.
Then Mr Thornton turned and Margaret felt instant regret at it. What if he wouldn't come. What if the awkward situation had shied him away entirely, what if proudness perseveres, what if -
No, Mr Thornton was a man who stood by his word but there was this lingering doubt, as she watched him go, of never seeing him again and she feared her heart would burst and never gathered itself back together if that was the case.
Look back, she thought. Look back at me.
And just when he had crossed the threshold, he turned and their eyes met, saying everything words had failed to convey. It was a promise and the rest is history.