A/N: This is a continuation from the station scene, so is very much based on the TV series.

Margaret gazed out of the window, watching as the fields and towns flashed before her eyes. The train thundered its way towards Milton, whistling its way rapidly towards a fate she could scarcely believe.

She found herself alone with Mr Thornton, quite without a chaperone and quite without a care. She sat pressed against him, his arms wrapped around her waist. Surely, she thought to herself, if Aunt Shaw could see her now there would be quite the scandal.

She sat up a little straighter then; what would her aunt have to say about all of this? When Henry returned without her, when he explained where she had gone..

"Do you think I have been too brash?" Margaret asked. She turned away from the window to face Mr Thornton, her face contorted with concern. He cocked an eyebrow at her, unsure to what she meant. "Turning back and coming to Milton with you."

"You have regrets?" He asked cautiously, sitting up straighter and releasing her from his grip.

"Not as such. This isn't the proper way to do things. My aunt will think me a fallen woman, Henry-" Margaret began, a feeling of dread spreading over her chest.

"I do not care what your aunt or Henry have to say, Margaret. If you have doubts about this, I will escort you back to London myself. I will not trap you, and I will certainly not taint your name with scandal. I thought you knew full well what I would ask you, when the time was right. I have asked you once before, of course. I would ask you again, but now I am not so certain you would say yes."

"I do not want to return to London, John." Margaret insisted, a little hurt that he thought she would change her mind so quickly.

"You called me John."

"It is your name, is it not?"

"Yes, of course."

"I think it is acceptable for us to be on first name terms now. In private, at least." She smiled. She hesitantly raised a hand to stroke his cheek. His eyes closed, a blissful smile spreading over his face. "I am just not sure what everyone will make of this. Your mother, for example. I'm sure she will think me most impertinent. She does not think highly of my moral character, she has made that quite plain."

"Higgins spoke to me." John said quietly, knowing precisely what incident had lowered his mother's opinion of Margaret. "He thought you'd be in Spain, with-"

"He told you about Fred." Margaret interrupted.

"Fred, that's your brother's name?" John asked.

It was strange to him that there was another man in Margaret's family. A whole side of Margaret's life that he knew nothing about. Mr Hale must have longed to talk about him, John thought. Perhaps that is why they got on so well; Mr Hale a father missing his son, John a man without a father.

"Frederick, yes. Did he tell you of his circumstances?"

"He mentioned some sort of trouble with the navy, but not too much. You know Higgins, he's a man who uses few words and chooses them carefully."

"I knew Mary would tell him, but I trust Nicholas implicitly. He is a good man, I hope you see that now."

"I do. Enough about Higgins. Please, tell me about Fred."

"Fred was involved in a mutiny, oh, many years ago now. It was the right thing to do, the Captain was insane. The law did not agree; many of his fellow men involved in the coup were hanged. Fred came back from Spain where he was living in safety to see Mama as she was dying. I wanted to tell you - in truth I ached to tell you. I could not risk his secret being uncovered. It would have destroyed Father."

"I understand, we do not have to discuss it further. I do have one question that I hope you will explain to me truthfully - what did the man at the station have to do with it all?"

"Oh, that nasty business. Leonards knew us, in Helstone. He called out to Fred and risked uncovering his true identity. Fred did not mean to injure him, truthfully he would not hurt a fly. I am sorry for lying. I would never have thought I could lie to a policeman but the risks were just too great."

"I understand. I wanted to protect you from any trouble but truthfully I did think there was some more sinister, sinful explanation. I thought the worst of you and I am truly sorry for that. I am sorry too for speaking so harshly to you - and I'm sorry for what my mother might have said to you. I know she came to speak with you."

"What on Earth will your mother make of all this?" Margaret said, her sadness turning to amusement at the ludicrous situation the pair had found themselves in. "I have nowhere to stay-"

"Of course you have somewhere to stay. You're coming home with me, you will live with me." John said as though it were the most simple thing in the world.

"It is not proper-"

"You will have your own room, of course. For a short time at least."

"Oh?" Margaret asked with a teasing smile.

"I was rather hoping before too long you would be sharing mine."

"Mr Thornton!"

"Have I shocked you?" He said in a low voice near her ear. "I do apologise."

"When we arrive at Milton, we will be as we were before." Margaret said firmly, moving away from him and taking a seat on the opposite bench. He observed her carefully, his closed expression unreadable.

"Of course." He nodded.

"You have a business to run, Mr Thornton." Margaret reminded him. He groaned at her formal address of him.

"John, please." He begged, leaning forward and placing his hands on her knees.

She blushed at his presumptuous touch, shifting away from him and shuffling down the bench. She clasped her hands together, placing them in her lap. He watched her display of chastity with a smile; Margaret had never seen him smile so freely or so often.

"Mr Thornton. Until we are-" Margaret stopped herself and turned to look at the window, her cheeks burning.

"Until we are what?"

"Well, you haven't asked me again! I shan't assume!" Margaret said with a nervous laugh.

John watched her carefully and she found herself squirming under his determined gaze. She turned once more to face the window. She felt the bench sink a little with his weight as he sat beside her. He took her hand in his, and she turned to face him. His face was close to hers, and as she turned, he pressed his forehead against hers, his hand resting on her cheek. Their noses touched, and she closed her eyes.

"Margaret Hale, will you be my wife?" John whispered. His voice was faint, even for a whisper. He took a shaking breath, and Margaret realised that the hand on her face was trembling.

"Yes." Margaret felt tears prick her eyes as she answered his question. "Yes, I will be your wife."

"Since it is all proper, may I be permitted to kiss you again?" John asked. His own voice sounded strangled, as though he too was on the brink of tears.

"Yes." Margaret laughed, a tear slipping down her cheek.

He pressed his lips to hers, gentle and timid. Margaret had never considered Mr Thornton to be timid in any way at all; yet when it came to intimacy he seemed most cautious. It was the most sinful pleasure Margaret had ever known, to be kissed so gently by a man so ungentle in all other pursuits.

"I will be a good husband to you, Margaret." He murmured against her lips.

"And I will do my best to be a good wife. Though I fear I do not know how."

He pulled away from her and looked her in the eyes.

"Don't change. I'm sure many will tell you you must change who you are, must give away your own mind. I implore you to stay exactly as you are right at this moment; this is the woman I want to marry."

"I will try - I think your mother will not like it."

"A fig for what my mother thinks. She will come around."

John and Margaret walked in the dim dusk light towards the mill. John carried her little carpet bag, watching as Margaret turned her head at every sight and sound. It was like walking with a child, the joy on her face clear to see.

"You are happy to be back in Milton, I see."

"I am happy to be here with you." She said boldly, her eyes still darting from one building to another. "Milton did not look nearly so well when I was here earlier today. Now, I think it is the most wonderful place I have ever been."

"I'm sure Mary Higgins will be pleased to know you've come back. And I must tell her father the mill will be reopening - oh, I better put in an order-" John began, but Margaret held up a hand to stop him.

"John, think of business tomorrow. It is getting late and there is nothing to be done tonight."

"Yes, Master."

John smiled, looking down at his fiancée with a wide grin. He could not keep from smiling. Margaret thought his whole face changed when he smiled. A different, though just as handsome, man entirely.

"Hush, I am not your master. I am merely your fiancée and I wish to have your undivided attention for one night at least."

"Of course. There will be much to do over the next few weeks to resume the working of the mill. I apologise in advance, I doubt we will have much time together."

"I think I too will be busy planning something, Mr Thornton. Wedding plans are time consuming. Edith's wedding took months of meticulous planning, it really was most tedious."

"Something simple, I think, for us. Fanny's wedding was nice enough, would that do you?"

"I would marry you in front of nobody but a vicar, wearing only rags. It does not matter to me."

"I could make you some cotton for a new dress," he teased, "But I know it is not the fashion."

"What a nice idea." Margaret said thoughtfully.

Cotton may not have been the most fashionable material, as she herself said to his face long ago. However, the idea of wearing a dress crafted using the material that her future husband had dedicated his life to producing was somewhat romantic.

"I was only joking.."

"No, I like it. I'm sure it would look very handsome."

"Fanny will be aghast. She does not seem to care for anything that isn't made of the finest silk they sell in Milton." John said with a smirk. "What will she make of her new sister in law, I wonder."

"I'm sure I will never be fashionable or entertaining enough for her, but I hope that we will come to be something close to friends."

They stopped walking; they were now standing at the imposing gates of Marlborough Mills. John took a deep, slightly shaky breath. He reached for Margaret's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"You're nervous." Margaret said, looking up at him.

John did not hear her, instead he stared blankly straight ahead. His brow was furrowed, and Margaret looked down to see his foot was tapping against the dirt rapidly.

They both stared straight ahead at the Mill. It was deathly silent. Although Margaret had been here earlier the same day, it still shocked her to see this once bustling place so without life.

"Have you met my mother?" John said after a while, in a strangely small voice. "I am scared she'll not approve of this. It is so sudden, she'll be caught off guard. I'm afraid my feelings have run away with me. I haven't felt this fearful since I was a lad."

"She loves you dearly; as long as you are happy, she will be."

"I know." Though he did not sound as certain as he did about most things in life. He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed. He looked as he always did; determined. "Come, it will not do to dawdle here all day, Miss Hale."

"Lead the way, Mr Thornton." She linked her arm through his, placing her spare hand over his in the crook of her elbow.

She looked up towards the house. In the window she could see a figure move away quickly at her gaze. There was no doubt that Mrs Thornton was observing this sight and had already come to the conclusion that Margaret had returned for good.

Mrs Thornton was the smartest woman Margaret had ever encountered. Every decision, every word she spoke was carefully calculated with the sharp mind of a man. What a shame it was, Margaret thought, that she was not a man. A man with her mind would be lauded; a woman with her mind of her own was simply ignored and dismissed out of hand. Margaret had sometimes wondered what it was to be a man; a rich man, at least. To have a voice that was valued, no matter what it said.

John pushed open the heavy door to the house. It was dark and cold - the air outside was warm and a rush of cold air hit them both.

"Mother." He called out as they stepped over the threshold, his deep voice booming through the almost empty hallway.

"Should we not go to the drawing room?" Margaret hissed. "I hardly think it's proper to discuss this in the hallway."

"I don't know the proper way to do this, I've hardly done it before." John hissed back. "Leave your bag here, I'll take it to your room later. The servants have gone, we hadn't the money to keep them."

"Tomorrow I will go and re engage them. I was thinking perhaps I could send for Dixon, if that would agree with you."

"Of course. I suppose we should go and find my mother since she is steadfastly ignoring me."

"I'll follow you."

John climbed the stairs, with the heavy gait of a man walking to his execution. Margaret felt her heart hammer wildly in her chest, her breath almost escaping her. She was sure she had never felt so nervous in all of her life.

These dark, unwelcoming rooms that were so familiar to her suddenly seemed to change. This would be her home, her married home. This entire day had seemed like a dream.

"Mother." She heard John say. Margaret decided to wait in the hallway just outside the drawing room. Mrs Thornton would want to hear the news from her son; she would allow them to share this moment privately.

John turned to look for her. He spotted her standing shadowed in the doorway and Margaret held her hands up, hoping he understood that she wanted him to tell his mother the news alone. He frowned, and turned back to his mother.

"Mother, there's something I need to tell you."

"Oh yes?"

"Miss Hale and I - are to be married."

"I see."

"I hope that you understand."

"I understand, John. It is just a surprise - Miss Hale left Milton earlier today, and I had no idea where you had gone. The fact that you're marrying her isn't a total shock - it has been over a year since she rejected you and you have still not even looked at another girl. That you should stumble upon her is a true surprise to me, that's all."

"We met at a station halfway between here and London, quite by chance." John explained, the story sounding most unlikely now it was said out loud.

"And she just hopped on a train and came back with you? With no chaperone or word to her family? John, I'm surprised at your carelessness. It is bad enough she travelled here alone with an unmarried man, but to switch between gentlemen with no care for her reputation-"

"Mother. There was nothing untoward about it and I think Miss Hale's reputation is no longer your concern. Margaret is a kind, thoughtful woman and I am in love with her."

"Aye, I know your feelings for her full well. I've watched you brood over her long enough to know this a good thing for you. I do not mean to be unkind, John. It is just a shock. This morning I did not know where you were and when I would see you again. Now you bring back a wife. Come in, Margaret. Do not loiter in the hallway like a ghost."

"Mrs Thornton." Margaret bobbed her head, her eyes fixed to the floor.

"So, it is official. He's good enough for you now I see."

"Mother! Do not speak to Margaret like that."

"A joke, John. You will grow used to my sense of humour in time, Miss Hale. I mean you no harm. A funny time to take a wife, John. I don't know how much of a household will be left for her to run."

"Mother, Margaret first spoke to me of a business proposition. I do not wish to go into the details now, but the Mill will be reopening." John said in a low voice.

"She's lending you the money?" Mrs Thornton asked. "Is this a marriage of business?"

"No, it is a marriage of love." Margaret said firmly. She noticed John's head snap around to look at her. This was the first time she had mentioned love. "I have inherited a sum of money from my Godfather Mr Bell. I know that Mr Bell would be very pleased to see the money put to good use in running the Mill again. He always admired Mr Thornton's mind for business, I know."

"I'm not sure you and I remember Mr Bell the same way, Miss Hale, but I'll allow you your memories. It is a very generous offer on your part." Mrs Thornton said.

Mrs Thornton stood and walked to the window. The dim light shrouded her figure, leaving her a dark silhouette.

"Not at all. I trust Mr Thornton to use it efficiently and the rate of interest I will receive from him is better than any bank could offer me. And I will be pleased to see many of the local people be engaged in his employment again. Mr Thornton is a fair Master and I'm sure many will be happy to return."

John cleared his throat.

"I was hoping this would be a happier conversation, Mother. I am happy; truly happy for the first time in a long time."

His mother turned then, a small smile on her face. Margaret wasn't sure she'd ever seen Mrs Thornton smile. John walked over to her, and placed his hand on her shoulder. She gazed up at him and Margaret recognised the mutual look of adoration that passed between them from seeing her own mother and Frederick. The love between mother and son was a powerful thing.

"I can see. Your face is far lighter than I have ever seen it. Miss Hale, I'll credit you that. I suppose we had better plan a wedding, then."

"Yes." Margaret nodded - finally agreeing with Hannah Thornton on something.

"I don't suppose you've anyone to give you away." Mrs Thornton said thoughtfully as she sat down, gesturing for Margaret to do the same.

"No." Margaret paused, taking her seat. "My brother is unable to come to the wedding, unfortunately. He lives abroad and wouldn't want to leave his wife for too long."

"I did not know you had a brother." Mrs Thornton raised an eyebrow. "Your mother never mentioned having a son."

"No." Margaret said softly, not wishing to explain further now. She sat down opposite Mrs Thornton, changing the subject back to the wedding plans. "I suppose I might ask Captain Lennox. He is the second closest thing I have to a brother. Or I might give myself away."

"There's no need to think of such things now." John interrupted just as his mother opened her mouth to object to such an unorthodox suggestion.

"Of course." Mrs Thornton replied tightly. "Fanny will be overjoyed to organise the frilly side of things. She had so many ideas for her own wedding that I'm sure she could plan ten and still have some to spare. I am not much use at flowers and fanciful items."

"The flowers at Fanny's wedding were lovely. Her help would be very much appreciated." Margaret offered, hoping a compliment would do something to bond them.

"Yes, they were fine arrangements. A little too many for my taste, but no matter. Have you a date in mind John?" Mrs Thornton looked to her son, who was standing close to the window looking out over the empty courtyard.

"I need some time to restart the operations of the Mill. I was thinking perhaps October. Margaret?"

Margaret felt her eyes begin to close, and was jolted back to life at the sound of her name. She nodded, trying to suppress a yawn.

"October, yes. I'm sorry, could I be excused? It has been a very long day and I really must write to my aunt to explain the change of plans. She will think I have gone quite mad, I really must explain to her. I need to arrange for some things to be sent to me."

"Of course. I'll show you-"

"No John. I will show her to her room." Mrs Thornton interrupted. "While you're under my roof, Miss Hale, I will have no suggestion of impropriety. I made a promise to your mother to counsel you and I will not break that promise now. It is bad enough John insists you live with us before you are married but you will both behave."

"Mother we are not children-"

"I will not compromise on this, John. In fact, perhaps it would be better if she stayed with Fanny until the wedding."

"No." John said firmly. "No, she will stay here."

"Then you will respect my wishes." Mrs Thornton crossed her arms and looked at them both carefully.

John scowled; he did not appreciate being spoken to like an animal who couldn't control himself. He would treat Margaret with every respect she deserved, yet the memory of their time alone on the train burned bright in his mind. He longed to run away with her, to a place where all they had was each other. For a little while, at least.

"Yes, Mrs Thornton." Margaret answered before John had a chance to say anything. "I am most grateful to you for having me in your home and I agree with you. My aunt will be concerned as well, I'm sure."

"If you wish I will write to her." Mrs Thornton offered, arms folded. "To at least reassure her this bizarre situation has not left you..vulnerable."

The word hung in the air and Margaret did not know what to say. John cleared his throat, desperate to move past this awkward, stilted conversation regarding Margaret's virtue.

"I will carry her bag."

And so, they found themselves trooping up the flight of stairs to the bedroom, a strange little gang of three. John lead the way, carrying Margaret's light and small bag. Mrs Thornton followed, glaring at her son's back for being quite so ridiculous. Margaret trailed behind, stifling giggles at the ridiculous follow-the-leader game she found herself playing.

"Thank you, both of you."

She took her bag from John and entered the room. He followed her, lighting a small lamp on the table for her to write with.

"I'm sorry it is so cold in here. We've not had need to light a fire in here for a good while. I will bring you a bed warmer." Mrs Thornton said.

"Thank you, that is very kind of you. I must thank you again for your hospitality."

"You'll be family." Mrs Thornton said, sounding somewhat resigned to that fact rather than pleased by it. "We Thorntons look after our family."

"And I will do my best to do the same."

Dear Aunt Shaw

I suppose by now Henry has returned without me and you are all very cross with me. I am sorry that I have left so suddenly, and without saying goodbye. I hope I will see you again soon, so that I can explain properly.

I encountered Mr Thornton quite by chance, but upon seeing him again I realised that I cannot be without him. I am sure Henry has told you, but our trains passed at a station and we met entirely by accident on the platform. We spoke, and I told him of the business on which I went to Milton. It was then that I realised my feelings for this man went beyond the proposition I had for him. When I returned to the London train to speak with Henry, he simply handed me my bag. I saw this as his blessing to return to Milton. I was not happy in London - I was not sure I could ever be truly happy anywhere.

This evening, however, I find myself overwhelmed with the most unexpected joy. Mr Thornton and I are to be married this coming October. I would so value your help in planning the wedding.

I am not sure you would approve this match, Aunt Shaw, but I hope it will bring you some comfort to know how much my parents favoured his company. He was very kind to my mother as her health worsened, and a great companion to my father. My dear father, if he were still with us, would be greatly pleased to know that his favourite student was to become my husband.

Mr Thornton is a man who has a great mind and a great passion for his trade. I strongly feel that this marriage will be a very happy one, and I look forward greatly to the future he and I will share. I hope that you can share some of this happiness and wish us well, Aunt.

I hope, with all that I am, to hear from you soon to discuss happy things. Please do not be angry with me, dear Aunt.

I have another request that may displease you also - I ask that Dixon come back into my employ. As I embark on married life, I can think of none better to be by my side. I will also need my things. I will come to London as soon as possible to arrange this.

Yours,

Margaret.

There was a light tap at the door, so soft and quiet that Margaret wondered if it was her imagination. She was startled, even though the noise was not so loud as to warrant such a reaction. It was late - she had heard a clock chime midnight from somewhere in the house only a few moments ago.

She looked up from her letter and looked at her reflection in the mirror that rested on the dressing table. There was only dim candle light to see by, but Margaret knew she was not in any state for company. Her hair was loose, curling down her back in a tangled mess. She had already changed into her nightdress, and though it reached her ankles it would be most improper to be seen in the garment.

The gentle knocking grew a little firmer, and Margaret panicked. She had never been seen in such a state of undress by anyone save Mama and Dixon, and she should hate even Mrs Thornton to see her so undone.

She waited, hoping the knocking would go away. It did not.

She walked to the door and opened it slightly, peering round. She recoiled a little to realise it was John.

"I am sorry," he whispered, "I had to see you before I slept. I had to know this is not a dream."

"It is not a dream, Mr Thornton." Margaret whispered back. "However it is late and I am not appropriately dressed. What would your mother say?"

He smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. His hands were hot against her cool skin, and she shut her eyes to savour his touch.

"I'm sorry. I know I said there would be no impropriety, and there will not be. I just had to know that this was real."

"It is real. Now go to bed, my love. It is late and tomorrow will be very busy."

"My love." John repeated in awe. "To hear you call me that is a thing I daren't even dream. I must be awake."

"And I must be asleep now!" Margaret countered. "Sleep well, darling John."

"And you, darling Margaret." He echoed her sentiment, smiling in disbelief.

As he turned, she reached out and grabbed his hand. He stumbled backwards, watching as she raised his hand to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles.

"I really am the luckiest man on God's Earth." He sighed, raising his hand to caress her cheek. "I will do my best to make you feel the same."

Margaret kissed him once more and pushed the door shut. She leant against the door, her heart racing. She rested her head against the door and heard a thump on the other side.

"John, are you still there? Go to bed!" She hissed.

She heard a small chuckle from the other side. She smiled to herself, listening to John's footsteps disappear down the hallway.

She sat back down at the desk. She took another piece of paper from her notepad and began to write.

Dearest Fred

I write to you with the most wonderful news. I am to be married, this coming October. I will marry Mr John Thornton. You may remember him as the scowling man from the station that awful night you left Milton.

I am sure Aunt Shaw is absolutely furious with me, as this engagement has come as quite a surprise to everybody - including me. I had been visiting Milton with Henry to discuss business (as you know, Mr Bell left me property in Milton) and - oh Fred the story sounds so ridiculous I can scarcely believe it to be true, yet it happened only this afternoon. Mr Thornton - John - was passing through the same station as Henry and I on our way back to London, in the opposite direction. I am sure you will be quite scandalised to know that I got off the train to London and returned to Milton with Mr Thornton. He has asked me to be his wife. I said yes without a second thought.

Father thought a great deal of him, and I am sure if you met him properly you would like him too. He is a little serious but I have seen a change in him and I truly believe that he will be a figure in business that is admired and held as an example of what it is to be a good master. Of course, that is not his only endearing quality, but business seems to be the ruling hand of Milton and all people here care about!

I am currently living at his home with his mother, who seems most confused and a little put out by my sudden arrival! I worry that there will be gossip, but I have been put in the most remote bedroom possible and I am sure I will hear Mrs Thornton prowling the hallways to make sure I stay put! I wonder if it would be best to live somewhere else, but I have not thought so far ahead. I hope to travel to London soon and bring Dixon back with me. Mother would have liked that, I think.

I think of you every day, darling brother, and wish that you could be by my side on my wedding day. My only trepidation is the very real possibility that I will have no family to wish me well. I do so wish that Mother and Father could be here to share the occasion. I find myself feeling rather alone in this new life I am about to embark upon. I know that you will think of me as often as I think of you and I hope that you will give my marriage your blessing.

Send my love to Delores. I hope that you are happy, Fred. Perhaps Cadiz would be the perfect place for a honeymoon, if the winter seas are kind and the mill can do without Mr Thornton for a few weeks.

Your sister,

Margaret

Margaret rested her pen on the table, an exhausted smile playing on her lips. Her hand cramp from writing so rapidly. She felt a thousand emotions within her and they had poured onto the page.

The candle on the desk flickered and died; it had burnt through, a puddle of wax all that remained. The room was plunged into darkness and Margaret took that as a sign that it was time for bed.

She got into the large bed, sinking against the soft mattress. The sheets were smooth (cotton, of course) and a comfortable temperature thanks to the bed warmer that Mrs Thornton had promised. The room certainly was cold - yet somehow, Margaret had hardly noticed the temperature at all.

She was simply too happy.