Hello again! Now first and foremost, I have to put a warning here for what is to come in the next chapter after this one. I will be changing the rating of this story to at least a T after I publish it for reasons that you will understand. In the meantime, please enjoy this chapter, but we aware that if you are sensitive to certain subjects, it is best that you stop reading after this chapter or before if it's easier. Love to you all and enjoy!
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The months passed slowly, each more difficult than the next. Mr Thornton was tired, and he knew that despite his best efforts, they would not hold out much longer. They could not fill the orders fast enough and he was losing money every day. His only solace was in knowing that with Fanny gone, he need only worry about himself and his mother. They lived frugally, sparing as many expenses as was possible.
Late that evening he sat in his office going over the papers strewn about his desk. His eyes were growing heavy and his resolve was weakening. Finally, deciding to give up for the evening, he rose from his chair and pulled on his coat, heading back to the house for the night.
He made his way up the stairs and into the study where he spent very little time anymore. His eyes fell up a book still resting where he had last left it on the desk, and he picked it up gently. The old, but well-kept edition of Plato was a warm reminder of his dear friend and a cold reminder of the woman he could never have. He longed to know how she was and what she was doing. No word had reached his ears since her departure, but then again, he never expected it to.
'You need to rest'.
He looked up to see his mother quietly watching him from the doorway. He smiled softly and sighed, carefully placing the book back on the desk.
'I've hardly the time for rest, mother'.
'You must,' she came forward and took his face in her hands. 'I will not see you worked into the ground, John'.
'Soon there'll be no work, and my hands will be idle. I must do what I can while there is still time'.
'The mill will not stay open any longer at all if you work yourself to death,' Mrs Thornton growled. 'You need to rest'.
John looked up into the beseeching eyes of his mother. 'I will for your sake, mother. Things are going to get much worse, but as long as we stand together, we should survive I think'.
'Of course, we will,' she said with her chin raised. 'Although I fear for your spirits. You've not been the same since she left Milton'.
John sighed. 'I don't know what you want me to say, mother. I love her more than I ever have before and she is further from my reach'.
'I can't stand her,' Mrs Thornton hissed, 'but only because of what she's done to you'.
'She did not ask for me to love her,' John replied softly. 'I've done that to myself. How many young ladies have passed through town, and yet none of them were interesting?'
Mrs Thornton sighed then. 'To bed with you now, I cannot stand to discuss this further'.
Xxx
Margaret sat alone in her study, looking over the figures in front of her. In the months that had followed their leaving Milton, a great many things had occurred. Firstly, Mr Bell had proposed a journey to Helstone, which she had gratefully accepted. Whilst there they had discussed a great many things and Margaret had found herself strangely indifferent to the place. She was indeed much changed since her childhood and perhaps even more since she made that walk to the church to marry Henry.
Mr Bell had listened to her thoughts and been very helpful in his answers. She felt inclined to discuss just about anything with him and that she did. When the topic of Marlborough Mills and the Thornton's came up, Mr Bell was far too perceptive not to notice her change in manner.
'Henry was never meant to be the man beside you, was he?' he asked gently.
Margaret's confusion caused him to elaborate further and Margaret could not believe how much he already knew. He had seen every interaction, it seemed, and guessed feelings when so many others had not. Mr Bell was well aware of her feelings and he had a fair understanding of Mr Thornton's.
After some time, the conversation had shifted, and Margaret learned that Mr Bell was not well and intended to leave her his entire fortune. Naturally she objected, but he would not have it. He insisted that while he'd save enough to live out the rest of his time, she could put to much better use the fortune he had accumulated.
As it turned out, some money ended up wasted as Henry and Margaret tried and failed to use it to help Fredrick. Henry had a good reputation and powerful allies, but even his reach could not sway the hands of the powers in charge.
Henry had apologised to her over and over, claiming that he needed to give her something. His determination led only to more hours of loneliness for Margaret. Whilst she appreciated his passion, she already knew that they could not do more. She would visit Fredrick in Spain whenever she could and that would be the extent of their connection.
While this was not the ideal situation, she felt some joy in knowing that she would get to see him and Dolores often enough, and they would show her the beauties of a foreign land. Such diversions from London life were certainly not unwelcome.
As Margaret looked down at the papers detailing her newfound wealth and properties, her eyes fell on a familiar name. She hurriedly picked up the paper and skimmed over the writing. It was the contractual agreement for tenancy of Marlborough mills and scrawled at the bottom was the signature of who she could only guess was Mr Thornton. The document detailed the movement of the property ownership from Mr Bell to herself and had been dated only the past month. It sent Margaret's stomach into butterflies to imagine Mr Thornton hearing of her inheritance. It also gave her hope that their parting may not be quite so final as she'd thought.
She had not heard much from Milton in the months since her departure, but she had not expected to receive letters or anything of the like. Nicholas was not a writing man and she knew that Mary was still learning to read herself. Aside from them, she hardly expected to receive correspondence from Fanny, and it would inappropriate to exchange letters with Mr Thornton. She was sure that he would be much too busy for such a thing anyway.
Xxx
There was something strange in Henry's manner that evening when they sat down to their evening meal. He seemed to be constantly thinking on something and Margaret was a little confused at his sudden step back. They had been making such great progress with their relationship and she truly was beginning to see him as a dear friend. Of course, they still showed no indication of being in love with one another, but neither seemed to desire it.
'Henry,' she spoke after some time of silence, 'are you going to tell me what that matter is? You've not been so quiet for some weeks'.
'I'm sorry, Margaret,' he replied with a forced smile. 'I have been thinking on some things of late and I must beg your forgiveness'.
Margaret frowned. 'Whatever for?'
Henry sighed and leant back in his chair. 'You never wanted this, any of it, and I'm a selfish man for marrying you'.
'What do you mean?'
'I mean that I know I'm not a good husband. I never dreamed of being one. I've been dealing with my own selfish struggle for much of my life and I just thought if I were to marry, then perhaps it would solve things'.
'Henry, I am completely lost'.
'I want to set you free, Margaret. This marriage came about for the wrong reasons, and I've been doing everything in my power to change it'.
'Is that what you've been doing these days? I thought you were still trying to help Fredrick?'
Henry sighed again. 'No Margaret, I'm a good lawyer, but I know my limits. I know that there's nothing more I can do on that front'.
'You would really have this marriage dissolved?' she asked curiously.
'In a heartbeat,' he replied seriously. 'I've done you wrong. No gentle woman deserves a lonely life like this, but I cannot be your husband. And so, I will try everything I can to change this'.
'Henry, you forget that I made the decision to accept you. We are married and that cannot be changed'.
'I don't know why. I never expected you to agree and now I'm certain you regret it. I understand your heart does not belong to me, and mine does not belong to you'.
'Henry'—
'I heard you speak to Mr Thornton. Such tenderness was in your voice that I have never heard before. I knew in that moment what I had done'.
'I do not understand you,' she cried.
Henry fixed her with an incredulous look. 'If we had not married and you had gone with your parents to Milton, you would have been free to love as you aren't now'.
'We are man and wife,' Margaret replied softly. 'I would never do anything to disgrace that'.
'Then you are better than I,' Henry sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. 'We are not man and wife, Margaret, not truly. A marriage never consummated is not truly a marriage. My only hope is to convince the courts of this'.
'Do you really think that it is possible?'
'It must be,' he murmured more to himself than to her. 'And when this is all over, I will stay here, and you can go back to Milton'.
'I'm sorry,' she whispered.
'What for?'
Margaret hung her head. 'I never thought I would find that love that mother and father had. I am ashamed to feel it now for someone else'.
'Margaret, have you not heard me bare myself to you? I have been living a lie before you and everyone we know. You are blameless and your transgressions are naught. He is an honourable man and worthy of your trust and love, it seems. No, I will fix this for both our sakes'.
Margaret could hardly believe her ears. What he was insinuating was so much more than what she had theorised. She knew that their marriage was one of convenience, but never had she considered that his reasoning might be thus. She resolved then to wait for him. She held little hope of the marriage being dissolved, and even if it was, the shame would be unbearable, she thought. If she arrived in Milton no longer a married woman, she imagined Mrs Thornton turning her away before she could even catch a glimpse of Mr Thornton. No, it was not possible.
Xxx
As the days turned to weeks, she began to see even less of Henry. Messages would be sent to excuse him from their evening meal for some reason or another. As Margaret had predicted, the quest to remove their marriage was not having much success and she spent more time than ever alone.
Some nights she would sit in silence reading. She would read sections of the volumes that she recalled her father and Mr Thornton reading and she would remember their conversations. This strange little practice led to much diversion for her as she could hear their voices in her head and imagined them there with her. She could picture Mr Thornton's intense gaze as he looked at her, and her father's unknowing smile as he continued to speak passionately about one subject or another.
Remembering back to those times, she didn't know how she had never placed Mr Thornton's expression before. The evident passion in his eyes when they had looked at one another was still enough to make her blush at the memory and she could not help the longing that filled her heart.
Her desk lay strewn with pieces of discarded paper where she'd started letters and then thought better of it. She wanted to know how he faired and how business was progressing. She wanted to know whether he still thought of her as she did him. Oh, it was a torment she could hardly bear.
She had considered writing to Fanny in an effort to glean some information, but she knew that the girl was self-absorbed and would likely send back no reply of any consequence. So, there she sat, with no news to quell her curiosity and no company to speak of.
It seemed that Edith had noticed her cousin's low spirits, as she made it her business to invite her to diner with them as often as possible. As much as Margaret valued her solitude, she was grateful to have the distraction of company on those nights when Henry did not return until well after she had gone to bed. In fact, some nights, she wondered whether he returned home at all.
One such night, her Aunt Shaw brought up the subject whilst they were dining. Captain Lennox, while always quick to defend his brother, was even surprised at his actions and vowed to Margaret that he would have words to him.
'Indeed,' Mrs Shaw huffed, 'For he is lucky to have her. It is not very gentlemanly to leave your wife alone every night. Tis dangerous'.
Margaret smiled softly. 'He has his business, aunt. I cannot stop him from attending to his duties'.
'No, of course not, but a man's duty is also to his wife,' she sniffed.
Captain Lennox gave Margaret a small smile. 'I will speak with him tomorrow. Do not fear, Margaret, I will not berate him too harshly'.
Margaret smiled at her brother-in-law. He was a kind man and very well suited to her sweet cousin. They were both of them too good for the world in general and Margaret feared that Edith would wilt as her mother had if they were ever to move somewhere such as Milton. Edith was delicate and angelic and built of a different stock to Margaret. She could never weather the harsh reality of Milton.
As they were moving to sit in the parlour for the rest of the evening, a servant came to the door and announced the arrival of a most unexpected visitor.
'Excuse me, but a policeman is at the door. He is very adamant that he speaks to Mrs Margaret Lennox and Captain Lennox immediately'.
Everyone froze for a few moments before Margaret leapt to her feet, followed closely by the Captain.
'Did he say what he wanted with us?' asked Margaret.
'No ma'am, only that it was most important I fetch the two of you straight away,' the servant girl replied.
'Well then,' Margaret turned to Captain Lennox. 'I suppose we must go and see what he wants'.
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Right, so as I said at the beginning of this chapter, please tread forward with caution when the next update comes. If you are in a fragile position with your mental health, please be careful. For those would asked, these events were planned from the beginning. Love to you all and thank you so very much for all of your kind words.
