A/N: Every time I read the reviews I get such a happy feeling. You are all so positive and supportive, thank you so much. I read them over and over again this week, which is probably why these chapters seemed to just pour out of me. Please enjoy and let me know more of what you think!

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Chapter 34

"If music be the food of love, play on"

The remainder of the visit dragged on. The lack of a full schedule was peculiar to John. And that the day was so oddly paced. A leisurely breakfast, milling around before luncheon, then a mad dash for the entire house and staff to ready everything for a grand dinner. It was strange to have the most trying part of the day in the evening. His evenings were the most relaxing part of his day.

They were currently listening to several people take turns on the piano, others singing along. All the performers were skilled but John didn't have enough of an appreciation for music to really enjoy it, apart from Margaret's piece.

Lord Calverton came and stood next to John, lifting another drink from a passing footman. "Your wife is a lovely performer, Mr. Thornton."

"Aye," John agreed, smiling slightly. "Far more proficient than myself."

"I as well. Never had much patience for the talent." He and John watched Margaret for a few moments more, before Lord Calverton asked, "Did the two of you meet in London?"

"No, in Milton, after she moved there with her family."

"I remember her vaguely from my own seasons there. I always remember her as being rather uncomfortable with everything, if that's not impertinent to say."

"She'd say as much herself," John acknowledged.

"She seems to have flourished away from London. The Standard implied that the two of you ran the mill together, is that correct?"

"Aye. We have different areas of supervision, along with a few that overlap."

Lord Calverton hesitated. "May I ask; did you find that caused some contention? The public must've been a little… unkind about such an arrangement."

"The public has had a mixed response to it, but they treat her soundly for the most part. Margaret is hardy enough to challenge anyone who objects too strongly," John replied.

"I'm glad to hear it. We experienced something similar when I married Charlotte. Before her, I had no inclination to marry and a rather unsavory past. People said some truly dreadful things about the two of us. But I largely ignored it, as Charlotte was far more important than anything the gossips said."

"Margaret was cut by her extended family when we married," John admitted quietly. "Her mother still doesn't like me very much."

"Hmph. For ridiculous reasons, I gather; because you were not born into a life like this." It wasn't a question; it would've been obvious to Lord Calverton that John was out of place here.

"No, I was not."

"I envy you, and those like you. I feel rather stagnant. My father always told me that great things were expected of me, but also that I wasn't to actually do anything. Made me positively livid when I was younger. I've mellowed now, largely thanks to Charlotte, and my children. But every time I open the newspaper and see the world moving forward, I'm reminded again. All I can do is invite those I admire here and try and glean from them how they've achieved what they have."

John regarded Lord Calverton with some surprise. He'd always had the impression that those of rank were able to do whatever they wanted, without consequences. But perhaps there were consequences, just not visible ones. Lord Calverton seemed content with his family, but he was also trapped in a way; by his position, his duty, the expectations placed on him.

That was what Margaret had said she'd given up. When he'd arrived and seen how magnificent a life like this was, he had despaired that Margaret might begin to think differently, especially with her friend talking with her. But Margaret had been exposed to the restrictions too, and her dislike of those far outweighed the status of having dozens of footman and garden parties every other week.

John felt upset about how he'd treated her over this visit. She had rather ignored his feelings, but that was no excuse for his insecurities. She'd told him many times how she felt. Despite his promise during their last fight, he'd let this status issue get to him again. He had tried not to show it, knowing he was being irrational, but wasn't successful. Luckily, Margaret was not the type to bring up old arguments, and had understood why he had been irritable.

"Speaking of which, you said on your first night that necessity got you into your industry. What necessity was that?" asked Lord Calverton.

"My father died when I was young and left us with nothing. I had to have employment to care for my family. I had read about the economic turn, and saw the factories that were being built as fast as they could be. People poured into the city looking for work, and they got it. I saw the way Milton was heading and decided to immerse myself in the trade in the hopes of achieving some stability for my family again."

"How is it you came to own Marlborough Mill?"

"I worked hard and was economical in my dealings. I pushed my way in when I needed. I was ruthless but I don't regret it. I'm proud of my achievements."

"So you should be," Lord Calverton said admiringly. "That is an amazing feat. Very few people can say they truly started from nothing and achieved the success you have."

John inclined his head, accepting the compliment. "Thank you, Lord Calverton."

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"Are you being well treated downstairs, Caoimhe?" Margaret asked while she was pining her hair.

She saw Caoimhe smile in the mirror. "Yes, ma'am. Only it's funny to be called 'Miss Thornton'," she giggled.

Margaret grinned, she too having forgotten that custom. "The meals must be very crowded affairs. I don't think I've seen the same maid twice since we've been here."

"There's about fifteen. The 'ead housemaid is a bit of a terror. She's forever grumblin' about th' footmen, which seems fair to me. They seem to only stand 'round and open doors. But one of them is Irish, and very kind."

"Ah," replied Margaret knowingly.

"Not that sort of kind!" she cried, blushing furiously.

Margaret giggled. "I don't mind if you have a beau. I know some households discourage those things, but I don't see why you can't have fun if you want."

"A few here do too. Not much secrets in a house like this. Even about all th' visitors." Caoimhe frowned slightly. "They've heard you talk to me some. They say it's odd, that you dinna call me by my last name."

"I suppose it is," replied Margaret, concerned. "Some might see it as discourteous, since a lady's maid is an upper servant. Your given name is so lovely, and I got into the habit of addressing you that way. But if you find it disrespectful, of course I will –"

"Not at all, ma'am! I dinna mind. I was surprised is all, that they cared how things are done in your house. And that everyone here always seems t' be at war with each other. There's so many people that little groups can form, which exclude others. At the manor, everyone gets along."

Margaret was beginning to wish they hadn't come to Walton Park. All three of them were thrown off balance by the imposing place. She'd been rather thoughtless over the whole affair. Lord Calverton did put John a little at ease because he was truly interested in the mill, even though he was unable to completely relate. He was not one that John could debate with or ask for new ideas.

"Only one more night, then we can be back to the familiar," said Margaret, to comfort them both.

"Where are ya going today? I saw they were pullin' out all the carriages."

"An arboretum had opened in the village and we're all off to tour it. That might be fun, actually. There's a section of trees that've been brought in from different places around the world."

The expedition was interesting, but was over in an hour, the arboretum not being very large. They had hours to spare before the next event.

"Shall we walk back?" John asked her. "We could walk around the lake as well."

"Good idea," Margaret smiled. They waved off the carriages, promising to meet the party back at the house. The day was overcast, but the sun soon appeared, making them question their decision as they were both soon sweltering hot in their layers of clothing. Thankfully, the trees along the banks of the lake provided a measure of cover.

There was a rather large drop down into the lake on its far side. Margaret peered over the edge to see the water, sunlight streaming through the trees. She looked towards John and saw he was removing his outer clothes.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, baffled.

"Going for a swim," he said, a mischievous smile on his face. "It's incredibly hot and there's no one about."

Before she could even protest, he'd kicked off his shoes and jumped off the ledge into the water. Margaret leant over the edge, gripping a tree branch tightly to steady herself. He resurfaced, grinning widely. He was treading water, propelling himself backwards.

"Come on. Your turn," he called.

"I don't know how to swim!" she exclaimed, shaking her head at him.

"Everyone knows how to swim."

"Ladies do not."

"You're not a lady; you are the wife of a tradesman," he grinned. Margaret smiled wryly, glad they could joke about the issue now.

"Jump!"

"What if there are fish in there?"

John laughed at her nervousness. "They'll eat you, of course."

Margaret made a face at him. She was hot, and John made it look fun. She took off her things, leaving only her shift on. She crept carefully to the ledge and tried to gauge the depth. John was still treading water so it must be fairly deep.

She took a deep breath and jumped. Margaret sunk like a stone in the silty water, water lilies tangling around her. She kicked her legs hard, pushing herself upwards. She broke through the surface of the water, gasping, only to be splashed by John.

She propelled herself clumsy towards him. "You knew that would happen!" she accused, spitting out water.

"No I didn't," he laughed. "How was I to know you were heavier than I?"

"I am not! Come here so I can drown you."

John laughed again and swam out of her reach. She followed him, her movements awkward. But the frigid water felt wonderful, and the two of them enjoyed themselves. John found a shallower area and pulled her towards him, kissing her soundly.

"Tell me this isn't far better than attending a tedious garden party," he said.

"It is," Margaret agreed. "And I'm glad my attire works both ways!"

"I should think they'd collapse simultaneously out of sheer indignation if they saw you now. Especially old Lady Merton."

Once it got too cold to stay in the water, they pulled themselves on to the bank and sat together in patches of sunlight, staying out of sight until they dried off a bit. Margaret had lost most of her hairpins and set about raking her fingers through her hair in an effort to find the remainder, and loosen the tangles.

"You should wear your hair out like that all the time," said John admiringly. "You look like woodland fairy."

"It would get terribly messy. It's hard enough to control as it is."

Margaret braided it quickly so that it might be tucked up out of sight beneath her bonnet. They stayed until they were both reasonably dry and it became late enough to walk back. She hoped no one would look too closely at their disheveled appearance.

A grand ball was planned for tonight, with a light supper afterwards. Margaret was not a skilled dancer and John had only a few lessons at school; so neither were particularly excited about the evening. Although, she was very pleased about her new gown and judging by John hungry gaze when he saw her, he was too.

"You must promise not to let go of my hand. I'm sure to make myself look ridiculous," he muttered.

"Of course. If the dance is too complicated, I'll pretend to feel faint and you can carry me off," she grinned, pulling him down to kiss her.

"Oh, how lovely you look, Margaret!" exclaimed Charlotte when she and John came into the great hall. "You've such an eye for fashion. Why, you must put your own designs into the print factory. People would love them!"

"I had not thought of it," replied Margaret in surprise. "But it's a good idea, and I'd enjoy doing that. I'll have to see if it's possible."

Charlotte had thoughtfully taken into account the diversity of her many guests. None of the dances were more complicated than a waltz, so the evening passed more smoothly than Margaret thought it would. John was a graceful dancer despite not liking the activity, and the party was large enough to cover any missteps they made.

"I'm thankful I never had to try and court a woman this way," John mused. "I'm terrible at dancing."

"You're better than you say you are. And you think you wouldn't have wanted to hold me this way when we courting?" she asked amusedly. "That's why people like it; it's the only intimate thing that is allowed before marriage."

John gave her an amused look. "We were far more intimate than this."

"Shh, don't say it like that!" she giggled.

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The morning they left, Margaret gave Caoimhe a purse of funds to distribute among the servants who had attended to her and John, Caoimhe more likely to remember who it was who had done so. The trunks were packed in good time and a footman came up to carry them down to the carriage.

The staff, Lord Calverton and Charlotte assembled on the stairs to see them off.

"Please write, if you have the time," said Charlotte, kissing Margaret's cheek. "I'd love to hear from you."

"Of course," smiled Margaret, pleased to be reunited with a friend.

"Be sure to tell us of your next great scheme," said Lord Calverton warmly. He and John shook hands, then John helped her into the carriage.

"It was not what I imagined. But nor was it a terrible experience," John stated.

"Some of that was my fault," Margaret sighed. "The next trip we make will go far smoother, I promise."

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Unable to put Fanny off any longer and her wedding fast approaching, Margaret and John took her for the long-promised visit to Mr. Harris's estate shortly after they returned from Northumberland. They stayed overnight in London so that Fanny could be measured for her wedding attire, then continued on to Horsham.

Mr. Harris greeted them eagerly when they arrived. He was in his element and talked enthusiastically about his plans for the estate. The house was a lovely one, done in a warm Tudor style, and had a surprising number of greenhouses; Mr. Harris having a passion for orchids and sunflowers, in addition to his many tenant farms.

John and Margaret were rather abandoned for the next few days, but neither minded. Fanny was pleased to be able to view her new home and was full of suggestions for it already. Mr. Harris took her out to ride often on an ancient palfrey that followed his own mount sleepily, giving Fanny an easy way to learn to ride.

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They arrived back in Milton in time to celebrate their first wedding anniversary. Margaret was excited by the gift she'd done for John. It was a paper anniversary so Margaret decided give him a watercolor painting she'd done of the mill. She'd spent weeks working on it in secret, wanting to get every detail perfect, and had it framed in an ornate silver frame.

John woke her on the morning of the seventh by pressing gentle kisses along her spine, rolling her over so he could kiss her lips. She smiled lovingly at him.

"Are we going to stay in bed all day?"

"If I have my way," said John, kissing her again.

They did stay in bed for most of the morning, lovemaking and talking.

"I think we done a good job at being married so far," observed Margaret.

"There was a lot more ups and downs than I thought there would be; of a different kind than I was expecting. But we've achieved at great deal," John agreed, smoothing his palm across her shoulders.

She shifted closer to him and pressed her lips to his sweetly. "I love you."

"And I you."

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They went down for a leisurely lunch then John took her into the library so he could give her the gifts from him. He'd gotten her first editions of Sense and Sensibility and The Lady of the Lake, to her delight. She watched him tear off the paper of his gift eagerly.

He laughed happily when he saw the painting. "Thank you, my love. It's absolutely perfect. I think I'll hang it in the office rather than the house, it's a far more fitting place for it."

Margaret grinned at him. "I already had fixtures put in above the fireplace in there."

They received gifts from their family too, Mama and Papa giving them a set of books, Mother gave them some lovely paper boxes, Fanny some handmade paper flowers. Fred had sent them a vintage map of Spain done in coloured inks. Even Mr. Bell sent them a gift, sticking his nose into someone else's affairs, as was his prerogative. But the gift was actually a very thoughtful one; a sheaf of exquisite stationary paper that had the initials of Marlborough Mill embossed on the pages in a watermark.

She and John went to the theatre in the evening, where a travelling production was putting on A Midsummer's Night Dream. It was not one of Margaret's favourite plays to read, but seeing it on stage was great fun.

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Fanny monopolized Margaret's time for the next few weeks, claiming to want her help with the wedding but largely rejecting Margaret's suggestions. She changed her mind about the colours she wanted, and caused such a fuss over the invitations that they were almost late. When her wedding gown was delivered, she declared it was nothing like she wanted; Margaret spent hours embroidering the bodice to suit her, for which she received no thank you. Mother resolutely told Fanny to stop wasting time and money, which rather caused a row in the household. John didn't really care about the expense but did see Mother's point of being nonsensical over the purchases – Mother made him pick her side when she told Fanny off. Margaret was annoyed by Fanny's behavior but didn't want her to leave the house in a cloud of arguments.

Margaret kept having to reschedule her appointment at the milliners several times due to Fanny changing her mind about the colours she wanted her wedding party to wear, causing Margaret to resolve not to buy anything new, but simply work one of her current gowns around the colour scheme when Fanny finally settled on it.

"I can't bring myself to say anything disagreeable to her," Margaret told John. "These are the last weeks she'll spend here; I want her to be happy."

"She's being rather spoilt over it. But I agree. This is the last expense for her, I might as well let her have what she wants."

"If she continues this petulance with Mr. Harris I hope they have the fortitude to work through it. I'm sure he's seen this side of her already but it might still be rather draining," worried Margaret.

"I think she'll be more mindful towards Mr. Harris. She's not bothering to reign herself in because she knows I'll let her spend whatever she wants," John observed.

"There might be truth to that. Why did you let Fanny spend wildly when you're usually so meticulous over finances?" asked Margaret curiously.

"I'm not sure really. When she got old enough to choose her own things and I had money for her to do so, I went a bit overboard, to make up for her poor childhood. And then whenever she asked again, I couldn't bring myself to say no, and then it spiraled, due my never having drawn the line," he mused. "And the reason I made money in the first place was to take care of her."

"I'm sure I would've done the same thing if it had been me. Even if the result was my be screeched at all the time," Margaret sighed.

John chuckled lightly. "Aye. I've been comforting and distressing myself by saying, 'it's only for a little while longer'."

Fanny ultimately settled on pink and burgundy for her wedding colours, so new flowers had to ordered again. She marched the maids resolutely to the church to explain how she wanted the bouquets and sashes arranged, the poor girls run off their feet. Mr. Harris and his best man came down two days before, as did Edith and Charles. Edith was glad to see her friend marry (even more so as it was largely her doing) and pleased to see Margaret again.

The morning of her wedding, Fanny rapped smartly on John and Margaret's bedroom door at a ridiculous hour, demanding to borrow Margaret's dressing room, as well as Caoimhe.

"Catharine's a nice girl but Caoimhe is much better at doing hair. I'm going to advertise for my own lady's maid as soon as I get to Horsham, none of this housemaid business…"

"Oh, my god. She's not hiding in here, Fanny," Margaret groaned. She didn't think inviting Fanny to her rooms on occasion would make her think she could come and go as she pleased. "Go and ask her to come to your room, you've a dressing table in there."

"But yours has such better light! And it's my wedding day."

"Christ. If I never hear the word 'wedding' again, it'll be too soon," grumbled John, flipping the pillow over his face.

"I heard that –"

"Fanny, go away."

"No, we have to get to the church at nine, John, and it'll take me hours to get ready!"

Margaret sighed. "Alright, fine. Give me a minute." She slid inelegantly out of bed and pulled on her robe. "If this is what having a child is like, I'd sooner not bother," Margaret said to John in undertone.

"Hear, hear," he muttered, burying himself under the covers to try and catch a few more minutes of sleep.

Margaret opened the door groggily. Fanny pushed her way inside looking irritated. "We need all the time we can get; it'll take ages for us to be presentable. Especially you, did you not sleep well last night? You look ghastly, you'll have to put some powder on…"

Margaret took a deep breath to calm herself and followed Fanny into the dressing room, ringing for Caoimhe as she went. This was Fanny's last day in this house, and she was excited and nervous about her wedding day. Fanny, like John, sometimes said rude things unintentionally when nervous; Margaret decided to let her be.

Caoimhe arrived, a little miffed at having her breakfast interrupted, and further annoyed by Fanny's shrill demands. She took her cue from Margaret and didn't say anything, simply listening patiently as Fanny described the hairstyle she wanted. John soon gave up on trying to sleep; he called out that he was going to go down to the drawing room to wait for them. Fanny's bridesmaids arrived shortly after, the gaggle of them fussing over Fanny and increasing the noise tenfold.

Margaret decided to leave them to it and fled down to the drawing room to hide with Mother and John.

"You look a little worse for wear," John observed, grinning at her cross expression.

"I had to leave before I got a headache. I don't want to sit through the wedding with one."

"What a noise they're making," Mother grumbled.

They seemed to be able to talk and work at the same time, as they were all down on time. The ushers arrived on time as well, and Fanny handed out the favors she'd made for them. Due to Fanny's rather large wedding party, two carriages were needed for everyone to travel to the church, leaving the servants to walk along.

The carriage was a tight fit with all the ladies' wide skirts. John looked particularly uncomfortable in the dark grey suit and high starched collar Fanny demanded he wear. Margaret tapped him with her foot and they shared an amused smile.

Margaret had to admit that Fanny's bossing had been for a good cause – the church looked beautiful, and the colour scheme was memorable and striking. The users and groomsmen hurried inside while Fanny and her ladies when off to the side rooms to wait for their cue. John kissed Margaret's cheek, then followed Fanny through. Margaret walked quickly to the front pew, waving at her parents as she went.

Mother was escorted up the aisle by Mr. Harris, both smiling proudly. A buzz of conversation ran through the room, unchecked for quite a while as Fanny seemed to believe in making everyone wait for the bride.

Finally, the music swelled and Fanny appeared with John, the two of them walking together slowly. Fanny only had eyes for Mr. Harris. John looked proud and a little sad; his father ought to have been the one performing the ritual.

The service was a simple one, the words having been spoken by thousands of couples before them. But the pair at the alter were clearly not thinking of that; the two of them staring happily at each other, their fingers linked together. Margaret had never seen Fanny look more elegant than she did now.

At the conclusion of the service, while the new Mr. and Mrs. Harris signed the register, John leaned closer to Margaret and said; "How well they look. Fanny seemed to shed her petulance as we walked down the aisle. It was rather odd to see, but I'm very pleased that she'll be so happy."

"Me too. I don't think we could've wished for a better match for her."

The wedding breakfast was held at the manor, and full of fun and laugher, as benefiting Fanny and Mr. Harris. The gifts reflected their personalities too, many of them being amusing things, and only a few practical household items. John and Margaret stole the new couple away for a few moments to give them their gift. It had been John's idea, and Margaret executed it, having more knowledge in this area. John took Fanny's hand and let her to the stables, where a lovely chestnut palfrey was waiting for her.

Fanny gave a happy squeal and flung her arms around John's neck. "Oh, thank you! She's beautiful!"

"I thought you ought to start your life in the South in style," John grinned.

"I certainly will! How handsome she is," said Fanny admiringly, patting the horse's neck.

"Indeed. A perfect ladies mount," acknowledged Mr. Harris, also reaching out to pat her.

"She's a little older than one normally buys, but I thought that would be good while you're still learning," supplied Margaret.

Fanny smiled at her. "Thank you."

"We'll arrange for everything to be packed up in a few days and ferried to Horsham, including the piano. And Urquhart will ride the horse down for you," said John warmly.

Fanny and Mr. Harris had decided to spend their honeymoon at the estate, so that their home might be full of the happy memories, a romantic and noble idea that Margaret was proud of her sister-in-law for.

Fanny released the horse and came over to them. "Thank you for all this. I know I've been difficult these past weeks, and before. But you've given me such a wonderful experience and it meant I'm to have the life I do now. I know I don't show it, and I probably won't again, but I'm very grateful."

"You're very welcome, Fanny," said Margaret, embracing her. John did too.

"Enjoy your new life. You deserve this happiness," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.