Author's note: Try not to get caught up with the chapter numbering. I've messed it up, but you are not missing any chapters. I hope you enjoy this!

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Margaret lay awake for hours that night, replaying the scene with Thornton in her mind over and over again. After the first burst of tears she lay awake and restless, with his cold words echoing in her head. The strip of moonlight that pierced between the curtains in her room moved slowly across the floor as she strove to understand what had gone wrong.

It was clear that some event had occurred to make Thornton think differently of having a real marriage with her, but what that event was, she could not imagine. The anger she had sensed under his cool facade indicated that his passions were deeply aroused. His eyes had flashed in way that made her think she had offended him in some way. But try as she might she could not recall anything she had said that would provoke such a strong response. Was he really so petty as to resent her not being at home when he came back from the mill? That would not be like the man she had come to know. And anyway he had asked how little Thomas was faring without any sign of pique.

As far as she knew the only thing that could possibly have caused such a change of temperament was the loss of the mill. But his business failure had not caused anger in him this morning, only a profound sadness.

It must be as he said: he had had time to consider his reaction to her and to think differently of it. He had accepted her affection in a moment of weakness and now regretted his actions, and they would never have a real marriage. She wept into her pillow again at the unbearable thought.

She missed her father more tonight than she ever had since he had passed away. How would he advise her if he were here?

Her father had thought highly of Thornton. Surely he would not have asked Thornton to care for her if he had believed him capable of such inconstancy. His words came back to her now. A man like John does not give his heart lightly, Margaret. If you could learn to care for him, he would be a most excellent husband for you. What would her father tell her to do?

He would tell her to talk to Thornton, she realized. He would want them to be happy in their relationship. He would advise her to go to her husband, find out what the problem was, and do everything in her power to make things right between them. And he would tell her to be brave. He would tell her not to be afraid, to have faith in her husband, and to believe that all would be well. She could almost hear his voice in her ear, urging her not to lose hope. With her father's urging in her mind and a prayer for courage in her heart, she was finally able to fall asleep.

The next day, however, did not bring any immediate improvement.

Thornton was sitting alone at the breakfast table when Margaret entered the room and greeted him. He nodded once but gave his complete attention to the newspaper in front of him, barely acknowledging her entrance. Margaret was not sure how to react to this. Normally her husband would have set aside his paper and given her his undivided attention, but clearly his mood had not changed since last night. She moved tentatively to the sideboard and filled her plate, frowning as she tried to decide how to start the conversation. But she might as well have saved herself the effort. No sooner had Margaret seated herself at the table than Thornton stood and reached for his jacket. "Do not hold dinner for me. I will not be home until late."

Margaret blinked, dismayed. "Can you not stay for just a minute?" she asked. "I would like to speak with you, if I may."

Thornton looked pointedly at the clock on the wall, then back at her. His expression was suspicious. "About what?"

He had never been so cold to her before, and Margaret felt herself shrink inside. "About- ," she faltered. "That is, I think we should talk about yesterday."

"What about it?"

"About what happened between us, and why you are so changed."

"We already had that discussion. I see no reason to revisit it." Thornton's voice brooked no argument. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Margaret could only shake her head, unable to speak for the cold that was sweeping over her. "Then I will bid you good day." In one motion he swept his hat on to his head and left the room. Margaret heard the front door close firmly behind him on his way out.

This was a blow, but Margaret was determined not to give up. By noon she had prepared a basket to take to Thornton's office, hoping that the passing of a few hours might have softened his attitude. But when she entered the mill and climbed the stairs to his office she found Huely standing expectantly, apparently waiting for her. "Good morning, ma'am," he said, inclining his head courteously as she approached. "Master Thornton is in a meeting. He asked me to extend his compliments, but he is too busy at present to stop for a noon meal."

So her husband had not relented. "Is he all right?" she asked anxiously. "May I not see him for myself?"

Huely hesitated. "He is well, but I believe he prefers not to be distracted at this time. There are difficult matters under consideration, you know."

"I take it you are referring to the mill's financial difficulties." Huely nodded. Quick tears rose in Margaret's eyes, but they had nothing to do with the mill. "Please give Mr. Thornton my regards in return. And do give him the basket, whether he wants it or not. Perhaps he can find time for it when other matters are less pressing."

"I will be sure to tell him, ma'am." Huely accepted the basket and turned away. As he opened the office door Margaret caught of quick glimpse of Thornton standing tall and straight with his back to her. He was staring out the window at the courtyard below, his hands clenched tightly behind him. He did not turn to look at her. Then the door closed firmly shut and Margaret was left outside.

Thornton heard the office door close but he remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the courtyard below. Margaret would cross the yard again on her way back to the house and he could not bring himself to turn away, even if that meant she might look up and see him in the window. With luck the bright sun would be in her eyes, blocking her view of him, and she would not know that he could not stop thinking about her.

What a fool he had been, to think that he could win his wife's affection in just a few weeks' time! Despite what they had shared together Margaret's heart was as untouched as ever. She still loved the man in Spain, the man whose name Thornton could not even bear to think of right now. But he clenched his fists as the name came in spite of himself: Frederick. Dearest Frederick, Margaret had called him in her letter. And she had called herself his own dearest Margaret!

Thornton knew he was being a coward. For the first time in his life he was shrinking from doing what must be done. Margaret did not love him; she had never loved him. Steadfast though she was, committed to doing as her father wished, her heart would always belong to this other man. Sooner or later he, Thornton, would have to confront her with this truth. He would have to tell her that he knew her secret and then he would have to do the impossible: he would have to let her go.

It was well after the usual time for dinner when Thornton finally returned to the house that night. Margaret had almost decided that he was not coming at all when she heard him open the door. He removed his hat and coat and hung them in their places, letting out a heavy sigh as he did so. For a moment he stayed motionless as he rested his hand against the wall, his whole demeanor speaking of deep dejection. Then he turned and saw her standing in the parlor doorway. Immediately he straightened. "Margaret. I told you not to wait up for me."

"I wanted to."

"Have you been holding dinner this whole time?"

"It was no trouble."

Thornton frowned and Margaret wondered what he was thinking. "Come and eat before you go to bed," she urged him. "The food will go to waste if you do not."

He wavered and for a moment Margaret thought he was going to make another excuse. But then he gave another sigh and followed her into the dining room. While Thornton seated himself she retrieved the dishes from the kitchen. Thornton looked at her warily when she came back into the room.

"Where is Dixon?"

"She asked for the night off in order to visit a friend. I did not think you would object."

"It was your decision to make, not mine. I do not manage the household."

The meal was swift and silent, as Margaret did not think it wise to begin a serious conversation on an empty stomach. She would rather wait until there were no distractions, so she tried her best to behave normally and wait patiently for the meal to be over. Thornton ate deliberately, with little to say besides thanking her for passing him a dish.

When Thornton finally set down his fork Margaret decided the moment had come to speak. "John, I would like to talk about what happened yesterday morning at the mill."

"There is nothing to talk about."

"I think that there is."

"Very well." Thornton crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. He regarded her coolly. "What is it you wish to say?"

There might as well have been a wall of ice between them. "John, I cannot speak to you when you are like this."

"Like what? Am I not being a dutiful husband?"

"You are so cold!"

"There is no reason to be otherwise. We have a marriage of convenience, you and I. There is no reason to expect it to be more."

"Do you not want it to be more? Do you not wish we had a real marriage?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "We each made our choices, and now we must live with them."

The conversation was not going as she had hoped it would. "What if I choose to live differently?"

"Different in what way?"

His implacability was beginning to arouse her. "You know what I mean. I should not have to explain it to you!"

"Suppose you assume that I do not know what you mean. Tell me what you wish me to know. That is, if it is anything different than what we have said so far."

Suddenly she could not stand the conversation any more. "I thought you were different from other men. I never thought you could be cruel in the way you are right now!"

"Perhaps you never knew me at all."

Margaret stood abruptly, nearly upsetting her chair in the process. "I can no longer be as indifferent to you as you are to me. If you are determined to continue on this path, then there is nothing here for me anymore!" She fled the room in tears, her feet racing up the stairs.

Thornton remained at the table for a minute, cursing himself for his ineptitude. Margaret was right; she had done nothing to deserve his cruelty. She had lived up to her side of the bargain in this strange arrangement they had conjured. And he was not indifferent to her; the current painful ache in his heart proved that. She might be in love with another man, but he could never allow her to suffer, not while she was under his care. He stood and resolutely followed her up the stairs. It was time that they had this out, once and for all.

Margaret had a valise opened on the bed and was hastily throwing a variety of clothing items into it. She moved swiftly about the room, collecting her hand mirror, brush, and other items. She did not stop when she heard Thornton come to the doorway. He stood watching her with a look of disbelief on his face. "What are you doing?"

"I am packing my things."

"For what purpose?"

"I need to leave this house!" She opened a drawer and withdrew several pairs of stockings, then opened the next drawer and pulled out a dressing gown.

"Are you leaving me?" When Margaret did not answer he came further into the room, blocking her way. "Margaret, you cannot go like this."

"I cannot stay and be nothing to you!"

"Margaret, please." He caught her hands in his as she tried to move past him, keeping her in place. "You are not nothing to me. Far from it. It is just- I will not stand in the way of your happiness."

"And if my happiness lies elsewhere?" she retorted. He recoiled as if she had struck him.

"I will not stop you. But please, we must part honestly. Tell me where you are going and why."

"Anywhere away from here!"

"That is not good enough. I promised your father I would care for you."

"Consider your promise fulfilled!" Margaret tried to move around Thornton but he moved with her and blocked her way. She refused to look up at him and let him see the tears pooling in her eyes. She wanted only to take her valise and walk out the door. But Thornton still stood in her way with his arms folded over his chest, and she realized that he would not let her go.

"Margaret . . . " Thornton's voice was suddenly more gentle. He took her hands in his, holding her in place as he looked down at her. "Margaret, have I misjudged you?"

She took a deep breath. It was now or never. She had no idea how he would react to her news, but she had to tell him now or forever hold her peace.

"I have a brother." The words blurted out before she could think about them. "He lives in Spain and he wants me to live with him. If you no longer want me I will go to him instead."

That's quite a place to leave you, isn't it? Since everyone could use a little diversion at a time like this, I will post the next chapter in one week instead of two! Thank you for all your comments and feedback—I appreciate you more than you know! See you back her in one week!-Elaine