Margaret could hardly keep her eyes open. Her head lolled against Dixon's shoulder. The train jolted her around, though even being thrown about like a sack of potatoes could seemingly not rouse her.

"She never was good at early mornings." Dixon said with a chuckle, running a fond hand over Margaret's hair. "I used to have to shake her awake for church on a Sunday."

"I'm sorry we had to get back so early." John told Dixon, though his eyes did not move from Margaret. "I'm used to rising before the sun to ready the mill for the day's work, I forget that others aren't so acclimatised."

"Miss Margaret likes her sleep." Dixon told him with a smile. "You wouldn't think it to know her, what with how she rushes around all the time. Up with the lark she certainly isn't."

"I'm sorry." Margaret mumbled, her eyes still closed. "I will wake up soon."

"Hush, you rest a while. We're quite alright." John said.

He longed to sit beside her, to stroke her hair as Dixon had done. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to feel her sleep against him. Instead, he was alone on the opposite side of the carriage. Dixon kept a careful eye on him.

He had barely got any rest at all last night, his mind endlessly occupied thinking about their return home the following morning. It was Friday now, and he had instructed Higgins to have the workers at the mill on Monday morning. There was so much to do, so much to prepare. Sleeping seemed wasteful, yet now there was a long expanse of time with little to do, he closed his eyes.

He fell into a surprisingly deep sleep. For once, he dreamt of nothing. His body felt weary, and his mind mercifully allowed him to rest properly.

He woke up to the sensation of something brushing against his neck. He woke with a start, trying to work out what had tickled him. He looked down; Margaret was looking up at him, her hair against his neck.

"Where's Dixon?" He mumbled, closing his eyes again as he put his arm around her to hold her close. The sun shone through the windows, warming his skin. He felt relaxed, a welcome break from the tension of being in London.

"The train has stopped for fifteen minutes." Margaret told him, her hand finding his. "She has gone to stretch her legs."

John opened his eyes, looking down at Margaret's soft, smiling face. He kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for so long."

"You looked tired, it is good you rested. Do not work yourself to the bone, John. I can see you are weary. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"It does not matter. I've so much to do." He shrugged. "

"For now, you may rest." Margaret instructed him. "In fact, I insist on it."

"Is this what marriage will be like, you telling me what to do?" He asked teasingly, tangling his fingers in the whisps of hair that had come loose from her bun on the journey. He tucked them behind her ears.

"I expect so."

"Then I can't wait."

She curled into him, her arm winding around his waist. If Dixon should find them like this, John was sure there would be cross words. He did not care; he merely pulled her to him. They sat together, curled up like kittens, oblivious to the rest of the world passing by them.

"That was the last time I'll go to London unmarried." Margaret told him with a soft smile. "I shall be Mrs Thornton whenever I next go."

"I cannot wait for that day. I cannot wait for the day we may travel unaccompanied, and I can spend hours in your embrace without Dixon glaring at me."

"This has been a rather different train journey to our first." She whispered, her fingers tracing his arm. "I long to be alone with you."

"I don't suppose we could get married this afternoon.." John asked, closing his eyes again. Margaret kissed his neck boldly in reply, and John found it almost impossible to restrain himself. His hands gripped the seat tightly, and he made a strange noise he'd never heard before.

"I think we'd better stop before Dixon comes back." He said in a strangled tone.

Margaret sighed, getting up and taking her place opposite him. He reached over and held her hand, smiling at her.

"I love you." She told him. "I am glad London went well, for both of us."

"I wish you were coming back to my house." John told her. "Not shutting yourself away where I cannot see you."

"I am hardly going to a nunnery." Margaret laughed. "I will miss you, of course. It is not for long, anyway. Time will move quickly once the mill has reopened. I think we have perhaps been in our own little world these past few days."

"Three days until the workers come back to the mill. It will be a struggle to be ready, I haven't allowed enough time to get everything done."

"You will be." Margaret told him. "Do not panic, love. It will take time to resume full operation but you have time now. You have orders, you have materials, you will have workers. Do not be too hard on yourself my love."

"I suppose. We'll need to go to church on Sunday, to speak to the vicar." John said, mentally adding that to the seemingly endless list of things he had to do. "Best set a proper date, get it all sorted out."

"I can go alone, if you wish."

"No, I want to be there. I suppose then we will need to organise the wedding breakfast and all that."

"Leave it to the women." Margaret smiled. "I am sure Fanny has it all planned."

They arrived back in Milton early in the afternoon. Margaret, followed by a cab full of suitcases, went straight to her new lodgings. John was sorry to see her go, walking back alone to the Mills. He had promised to call on her with his mother that evening for dinner, knowing he had much to prepare.

He dropped his bags at home, trying to make a quick exit to get to work in his office. However, his mother's ears were as sharp as ever and no amount of creeping would escape her.

"John?" She called out. "John, come to the sitting room."

"Mother, I must get on. I've contracts to look over."

"Fanny is waiting in the sitting room, she wishes to talk to you and I without Margaret being here."

John rolled his eyes. Fanny rarely had anything important to say, but he did as he was bid. He walked in and sat down, waiting for his sister to begin. She dithered a little, and he wondered what she was about to say. She did not usually lack the confidence to say whatever was on her mind.

"I wanted to tell you when it was just us here, just family." Fanny said, and John thought she seemed unusually nervous. "I wanted to tell you both that I am expecting a baby."

"You've managed to keep that quiet." Mrs Thornton said with a smile. "I had no idea. I think that's the first thing in your life that you've kept to yourself."

"I can keep a secret!" Fanny said in outrage. "Aren't you pleased?"

"Of course I'm pleased." His mother told her with a smile, standing up to kiss her on both cheeks. "My first grandchild."

"Congratulations, Fanny." John kissed his sister's cheek, giving her a tight hug as he used to when they were children. "I'm happy for you. Really. It's just a surprise."

"I've known for a few months now." Fanny said, clearly pleased that she had managed to keep such a big thing secret for so long. "Doctor Donaldson said the baby will come in October. I didn't like to say anything before but I am glad you've moved your wedding forwards. Otherwise I would have been terribly fat."

"I am glad it suits you, Fanny." John said with a smile.

Fanny ran off to tell Jane her good news, and his mother began to laugh. Well, John knew it was her way of laughing - to anyone else, she was hardly making a sound or moving her face at all.

"Did you honestly not notice? She's as subtle as a bull in a china shop. I've known for months."

"Then why did you not tell her that?" John asked.

"Look how happy she was to have managed to keep such a secret for so long. We always did indulge her a little, didn't we?" She said with a fond smile.

Hannah and Fanny Thornton were as different as mother and daughter could be. John knew his mother loved Fanny just as much as she loved him - but Fanny had always felt left out. John and his mother were much more similar to one another, and he would be the first to admit that he trusted his mother with every aspect of his life. Fanny and Mother had fought like cats and dogs, especially when Fanny was thirteen.

"You always told me off if I pandered to her."

"She had you wrapped around her little finger when she was a girl. I didn't want her growing up spoiled, not when we had so little to spare. Too little too late, I fear."

"She's Watson's problem now." John said wryly. "I'm happy for them both. A baby will be a good thing for Fanny; she might grow up a little."

"Aye, it will be - but I dread to think of the bill she'll land Watson with for the nursery."

John chuckled; Fanny did indeed have expensive tastes. The thought of having a baby around pleased him; he would like to be an uncle. Babies were easy; they did not argue back, they did not want anything other than attention and food. If only everything in life were so simple.

"I need to go, I've still got at least twenty machines to maintain and paperwork to finish." John stood up. His mother frowned at him, and he sank back down into the chair ready to be admonished.

"I don't like you fixing those machines with no one around to assist you." His mother told him. "Get someone in a few days early to maintain them, or at least help you. You'd work far quicker with another man, it isn't practical to do all of it yourself."

John shook his head.

"And employ one man before the rest? The union would be down on me like a tonne of bricks. I know what I'm doing Mother, I've fixed every one of those machines a dozen times. The men will look them all over again on Monday before work begins, but this saves time."

"There's no use arguing with you when you've set your mind to something. Be careful. How did the meetings go?"

"Surprisingly well. A new supply chain is being established, so I will be a part of that as well as the existing one I had an arrangement with. Hopefully any delays will be lesser now. It all feels too good to be true, like it's about to crumble around me."

"Have the financial details been ironed out?"

"Margaret and I have signed a contract. I'll go and see Latimer this afternoon, to talk it through with him. Mr Bell used him for his financial affairs, but Margaret has her own man who seems to be overseeing the inheritance. I'd been trying to avoid Latimer in all honesty."

"I've heard that there is gossip." His mother admitted. "It would appear Ann is most upset."

"It is just gossip, Mother. Ann and I never had any kind of arrangement."

"You spent an awful lot of time with her for someone you did not have feelings for." His mother pointed out. "At best, it appears you simply lost interest. At worst, it looks as though you used Ann to get to Margaret. I am loathe to repeat the gossip but you must see it from a woman's perspective."

"We were never courting, Ann and I stopped seeing each other socially months ago. She seemed to lose interest in me at the first sign of my financial trouble, which I don't doubt her father warned her about."

"You think that he would?"

"Aye, I am certain of it. She is his only child, he'll carefully orchestrate any match that benefits their family. I will go and see him, and I will try and straighten things out with her. Margaret has already scolded me about the whole thing, don't join in."

He had not considered Ann Latimer in months until Margaret had mentioned her a few days ago, yet he had no wish to cause her pain. The time they had spent together, though little of it had been alone, had been pleasant enough. She was a fine woman. If he had never met Margaret - perhaps things would have been different.

"How were Margaret's family? Were they civil to you?"

"I barely saw them, truth be told. Her aunt was certainly frosty on the journey down there. Margaret says she will be at the wedding, I am not so sure. Her daughter, Edith, she was a funny kind of person. She seemed very pleased about the whole thing, and was generous to me. She has a young son, he seemed to take to me in that easy way that children do. She's expecting her second in the autumn."

"Must be something in the water." His mother said with a small smile.

"Other than that, I didn't have much to do with them. I was busy, but knowing at least one of Margaret's relatives doesn't despise me will do me just fine."

"They don't know you, John. That Aunt Shaw of hers has a very high opinion of herself, yet she is just a private woman who travels a lot. She has no achievements that I could tell, no real character. What right has she to judge you? What right have any of them?"

John knew his mother hated anyone thinking ill of him; it was kind of her, but not necessary. He did not care what others thought; being a master gave you a thick skin. People spoke ill of him daily, he was sure many of his workers had cursed his name often enough. It did not bother him.

His only concern was Margaret; she had so few family members left, he did not wish for her to be alienated from any of them - certainly not on his account. He was too short with them, he did not try hard enough. But really - Aunt Shaw had been so determined to dislike him that he could have got down on his knees and sang to her and she would still loathe him.

"Mother, it is fine. I did not expect that they would take to me. I think - I think now that they had hoped Margaret would marry Edith's brother in law. I am sure it is all just a shock that she has moved away and become engaged to a stranger so suddenly."

His mother tutted and folded her arms.

"Well they could be a bit more polite about it. It was a shock to us all but you won't catch me airing my grievances in such a loud voice."

"What grievances?" John asked, surprised at her tone. "I thought you were happy for me."

"I am, I am. It is an adjustment, that is all. Margaret is a strong minded girl, I am sure she will change things - even if she does not intend to."

"Mother, I've already told you - nothing will change."

His mother shook her head with a knowing smile. She moved to stand beside him, running her hand over his hair.

"You do not know what it is like to be married, to have a wife. It is natural that things should change and I will not hold back the natural order of things. Margaret has every right to run a household, and I hope to teach her. If she'll listen to me, that is. I've things to be getting on with myself. Off you go, be back for dinner. You're getting thinner by the day."

John kissed her on the cheek and left the sitting room. He heard his mother call after him as he left.

"Tell Margaret when you see her the carpenter's been round. I didn't have the key to the school room so there's all sorts sitting in the spinning room."

"That'll be her benches and tables then. I'll move them later. Thank you, Mother."

John left the house and walked into the smokey afternoon air. He did not go straight to the mill. He put his hat atop his head and left to go and visit Margaret in her new home.

The streets were quiet; it was the middle of the working day, and those who were out of work did not frequent this area of the city. Margaret's house was indeed close to his. It was not a large building, sitting on the end a great row of houses that all looked the same. It was nice enough, and he was glad to know that she was not too far from the mill.

He raced up the steps, so eager to see her though they had parted only half an hour or so ago. He knocked on the door and waited several minutes for it to be answered. Dixon opened it, red faced and frowning.

"Oh, it is you Mr Thornton. Come in, we're in need of a man's strength." Dixon hurried him in, peering behind him as she closed the door. It was the middle of the day and nobody cared what they did, John was sure, so he did not understand why Dixon was so concerned with others seeing him.

"Oh?"

"Dixon, who was it?" Margaret called out, though John could not see her.

"It is Mr Thornton."

"Oh John! Come upstairs, we've got ourselves in a bit of a bind."

John followed Dixon up the stairs, curious what this bind could be. Margaret did not need much assistance in anything.

"Ah."

"Do not take this to mean anything, Mr Thornton." Margaret told him as she tried to hold up what surely must have been a great weight to her. "I will be perfectly fine on my own."

John tried not to laugh as he observed the scene. Margaret was grappling with a large, heavy looking curtain pole that dangled from its place on the wall. John rushed to her and took the weight of it. It was indeed solid, and he was amazed she'd managed to keep it up for so long.

"I tried to pull the curtain back and it came off the wall. Dixon tried to take it but we didn't want to rip it down completely, and she is so much shorter than me that it didn't work. If we do not hold it, we fear it will rip the plaster from the wall even more than it has done already."

"I'm sure it can be fixed. From the looks of that hole, the whole wall is rotten."

Margaret looked deflated as she looked at John with a frown.

"Oh. Perhaps this house is not so fine after all. Still, it will do for now." Margaret said, looking up at the wall with a worried face. "What are we going to do about that?"

"The whole thing'll need to come down before it hits someone on the head."

"The wall?!" Margaret asked in alarm.

"No, the curtain pole." John reassured her. "Could you get me a chair? I'll take it down for you now, then I'll get someone to come and take a look at the entire place for you. I'll not have you living in somewhere unsafe, I do not care how much you protest. They shouldn't

have given you the keys without a proper inspection."

"I'm sure you're overthinking this." Margaret said as she dragged a rickety looking dining chair over to him.

He hopped onto it and began working the metal away from the wall. It did not take long, and he managed it with little further damage to the wall. Margaret watched him the whole time, he could feel her eyes on him. Dixon went away, saying that the kitchen was in such a state she could hardly stand it.

"There." John got down from the chair and rested the curtain pole on the floor. "Done. Try not to touch anything else, love. I have to go, I just wanted to check on you."

"We will be quite alright. I think I can go a few hours without seeing you."

"Mother said your furniture for the school room has arrived from the carpenter. It's been left in the mill, we need to get a copy made of that key I gave you."

"Yes, a good idea. How quick the carpenter was! I suppose they might have had most of it all ready, it wasn't the most unusual of orders. I'll go and move-"

"No, you'll wait for me. You can't manage a curtain, I'm not having you dragging bits of wood around. Come to the mill about five, we'll sort things out together if you insist on doing it yourself. Right, I must be off. Business to see to and all that. I love you."

"I love you. Thank you for your help."

"Any time. Though, hopefully this will not be a regular occurrence."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, surprised when Margaret lifted her head to catch his lips with her own. They kissed for a few minutes, not caring if Dixon should see them. John did not want to be ashamed of kissing the woman he loved in private, he did not care that they were standing by an open window.

Let all the nosey buggers of Milton see. Then there would be something real to gossip about.

A/N: Hello! Here's a little chapter for you all. I'm not sure how much I'll be around these next couple of weeks as I'm in a play that's opening in two weeks and the rehearsal schedule is ramping up. Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. I can't tell you how much your words cheered me on. I wrote this chapter but have also written 10,000 words of future stuff (all out of order which is why the wait for the next chapter might take a while). Thank you! Please review if you would like to.