The chapters in this story vary greatly in length. This one is rather short, but I will make up for it by following it up with a much longer one within the next two days (probably tomorrow, Monday at the latest).
Undesirable Encounters
It was agreed upon, that the banns would be read for the first time on the following Sunday, giving them three weeks and a half to prepare for the wedding.
No less would be needed for Mrs Thornton to organize what she deemed the bare necessities of a proper ceremony.
No matter her personal dislike of her son's betrothed, she would only see him wed once in life, and was determined to make the best of it.
On the evening of Mr Thornton's proposal, Margaret and her father had broken the news to her mother, who had been surprised, if not slightly shocked at her daughter's apparent change of heart about this man whom Margaret had – as the older woman knew – never liked much.
Setting aside the fact that Thornton was a mere merchant (such a connection being the direct consequence of their move to a place like Milton), it was a consolation to Maria Hale that her daughter would be taken care of.
She even rejoiced in the fact that the wedding was to be so soon, so she might still be lucky enough to see her daughter wed before the impending end of her own life.
"We must have a wedding gown made!", she exclaimed as cheerfully as her weak voice would allow her.
"Oh mother, I would rather not", Margaret retorted.
"I have always wanted a simple wedding. I would like to just put on my favourite dress and walk to the church. Why spend so much money on a dress which I can only wear once in my life?"
"Oh no, my dear, it will not do", her mother chided.
"We must not forget our rank in society. If you are to marry below your own circles", she sighed, "we must at least do it in a way that is appropriate for a young lady of your standing."
Margaret knew there was no point in arguing with her mother, as there was no point in arguing about anything, in this matter. She would just have to comply with whatever they would force on her.
On the first Sunday, on which the banns were being read, Mrs Thornton invited Margaret to take luncheon with her in the afternoon, to go over the wedding plans.
Upon Margaret's arrival at Marlborough Mills, her future mother-in-law greeted her in her usual cold manner.
"So, Miss Hale", she started, looking Margaret up and down in a somewhat derogatory way, which made the younger woman feel quite uneasy.
"It seems that your careless actions have placed my son in quite a dreadful situation. I cannot pretend to be happy about this connection. However, John has asked me to be civil towards you and, for his sake, I shall do my best."
Margaret felt anger rise within her. How dare that woman speak to her in such a way, as if Margaret had deliberately created a scandal to force Mr Thornton into a marriage?
"I don't know exactly your personal interpretation of civility", Margaret started in a strained voice, "but I doubt that your words to me just now would fit the general definition of the term."
Mrs Thornton made a strange noise, a mixture between a hiss and a growl, as she breathed out through her nose, raising her head high to glare at Margaret.
"Do you expect me to revel in this situation? To rejoice in the fact that you exposed yourself and my son to the cruel gossip of all of Milton?", she ranted angrily and then, taking a step towards Margaret, she looked straight at her with nothing short of distaste.
"You know nothing of the man my son is. He sacrificed his own happiness to save you from ruin. He bears it quietly. He will see you right, no matter his own cost."
Margaret was taken aback by the sudden emotion on the other woman's face. For a moment, it almost seemed like Mrs Thornton's eyes were glistening with unshed tears.
"After all those years of hardship he endured", she whispered, "I had wished him to find love and happiness. Something, that has been taken from him for good now."
Margaret had never liked Mrs Thornton, but those words, so honestly spoken in the woman's apparent grief, made her bite back any harsh response she would have liked to utter.
Over the course of the past week, she had been so caught up in her own grief that she had not had the energy to think of Mr Thornton's feelings, or those of his family, in this matter.
She gathered all her courage and, ignoring her own pride, she said: "I am sorry that my actions have placed your family in this situation. You must believe me, that this was never my intention. I am sure that Mr Thornton is a very honourable man and I am grateful for everything he has done."
She looked down at her own feet. "I did not wish to marry him", she murmured, and then quickly added:
"I did not wish to marry anyone at this time. But what is done, is done, and cannot be changed. I know we might never be friends, Mrs Thornton, but in order to keep the peace, I hope we can try to at least accept each other."
To her relief, Mrs Thornton gave a curt nod at this.
"Very well", she said then. "We shall both do our best."
With that, she motioned for Margaret to follow her to the dining room, where a light luncheon, consisting of cold ham, bread, cheese and biscuits had been placed on the table.
They sat and ate, mostly in silence, and after their plates had been cleared away, they retired to the sitting room, where Mrs Thornton presented Margaret with all her plans and ideas for the wedding ceremony.
There were many things to be discussed, from the table decorations, the guest list and the bridesmaids, to the menu of the wedding breakfast and the invitations.
None of it gave Margaret any pleasure. It was something that had to be endured, but at least thinking about all of these unnecessary trifles would keep her mind off the real problem: That she was to spend the rest of her life with a man she not only thought disagreeable but downright ruthless in the way he treated those beneath him.
She had not yet had the time to visit her friend Bessy Higgins and break the news to her and her father Nicholas, who was a union man and held nothing but contempt for Thornton and the likes of him.
What would her friends in Princeton say to all of this? Would they even still accept her friendship, now that she was to be so closely associated with a master?
Margaret somehow managed to survive her afternoon with Mrs Thornton, who, in the end, seemed rather satisfied with what they had agreed on regarding the ceremony, and would personally see to all the arrangements.
The women were just about to say their goodbyes, when the door to the sitting room opened, and in stepped none other than Mr Thornton. For a moment he did not seem to notice them, preoccupied as he was, with the business letter he was holding in his right hand, reading while he was walking.
"John!"
He stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at his mother's call. When his eyes fell on Margaret, a look of recognition crossed his face. His mother had mentioned that she would come by today, and John had gone off to the Club in an attempt to stay out of their way, not wishing for his presence to make Margaret uncomfortable. He had thought she would have left by now.
"I am sorry", he quickly apologized. "I did not mean to disturb."
"You did not, John, we were just about finished here", his mother told him matter-of-factly, as both women rose from their seats. Margaret watched him, as he dropped the letter onto a nearby side table and made his way over, until he came to stand right in front of her, bowing his head and holding out his hand to her.
Unsure of how to act, she took it and felt her breath hitch, as he unexpectedly lifted it to his face and lowered his mouth for a suggested kiss.
His lips barely grazed her skin, and it only lasted a second, before he quickly straightened himself up to look at her. She swallowed hard.
"Are you well?", he inquired in a soft voice. Margaret could only nod. "T-thank you."
Mrs Thornton watched her son carefully, her lips drawn into a tight line. Even from across the room she could tell that, despite all that had happened, he was completely enamoured with the girl.
'Oh dear' she thought to herself. 'Of all women, why did it have to be her?'
"Did you come here on foot?", John asked, to which Margaret nodded again. "Would you do me the honour of allowing me to escort you home?"
She bit the inside of her cheek. She would rather he did not, but knew that she could not refuse. She was to marry this man, she could not avoid him forever.
"Certainly", she forced out politely, and tentatively took the arm he held out to her.
Soon, they had crossed the courtyard and walked through the mill gates onto the street.
Margaret felt strangely exposed. Everyone who saw them would now be very aware of the fact that she was betrothed to him. That she was his. Her stomach tightened at the thought. It almost felt as though he was showing her around like some object he had newly acquired.
"I trust, you and my mother managed to settle some things, concerning the wedding?" he asked after a long while, during which no words had been spoken.
"Yes", she told him in a quiet voice, while staring straight ahead with a bleak look. "She has been very particular about all the arrangements. I am sure it will be a festive ceremony."
He stopped walking and turned toward her.
"You do not approve." It was a statement, not a question.
"It is of no consequence to me", she replied. "I am willing to accept any arrangements your mother deems necessary."
He frowned at her. "It is your wedding, Margaret. Would you not like to have your say in the matter?"
She disliked his calling her by her Christian name. It seemed far too intimate from a man she barely knew, and liked even less. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.
"I don't wish to be rude, Mr Thornton-"
"John"
She ignored this remark.
"- but if I had any say in the matter, there would be no wedding. As this is not an option, anything else may as well happen according to the wishes of the people who do care about it."
His face hardened slightly. Her words hurt more than he dared to admit. She seemed to have resigned herself to complete indifference. How were they ever to build any sort of connection, if she truly felt this way?
She was right there, beside him, yet he felt as though they were separated by an unbreachable divide. How could he ever reach her? Make her even look at him? He tried to keep his breathing even and his voice calm.
"Is there anything I can do, to make this more bearable to you?", he asked eventually.
She gazed up into his face for a moment, before turning from him, shaking her head. "It's kind of you to ask. But I do not think you can." Her hand dropped from his arm, as she started walking on without him.
He caught up to her, but dared not take her arm again, so he just fell into step beside her.
Desperately trying to swallow his pride and control his frustration, he grasped for any topic of conversation. "I'm afraid we will have to postpone our honeymoon to a later point in time," he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Things are very busy at the mill, with the aftermath of the strike, I won't be able to get away at this time."
She nodded indifferently. She had not given any thought to a honeymoon. The idea of going away with him – only the two of them – of spending such a lengthy amount of time together, was nothing short of terrifying to her. She did not want a honeymoon – not now, not later, not ever.
They reached her home and she knew she had to ask him to come inside. He followed her up the stairs to the sitting room, where they found both of her parents. Margaret was pleasantly surprised that her mother was up and strong enough to be doing some needlework.
"Mr Thornton", Mrs Hale smiled weakly as they entered, and reached out her hand to his, which he took with a bow of his head. "I suppose, I may consider you something close to a son now", she mused, to which he gave a tiny smile, as he settled himself onto a chair near her.
Margaret poured them some tea that Dixon had brought in, just as she had done a few times before, when Mr Thornton had visited her father.
While the three others entered into a polite conversation about the aftermath of the strike and wedding preparations, Margaret sat mostly in silence, only saying a few words here and there when she was addressed directly.
She quietly observed her husband-to-be, as he easily conversed with her parents in a light tone, and listened intently to her mother's words.
Margaret had to admit that he was very well-versed and that his manners were flawless. He was handsome too, in his impeccably clean and starched frock coat.
His eyes were of a deep shade of blue, he had a strong jawline, a prominent nose which suited his features quite well, and the pitch-black hair that lightly fell into his forehead was perfectly groomed and gave him a slightly dark and mysterious air, which some might have found enticing.
It was a little while later, that he said his goodbyes, once more reaching for Margaret's hand to kiss it briefly. After the front door had closed behind him, she stood by the window and watched his elegant form, as he walked down the street, until he turned a corner and disappeared from her view.
When it came to his looks, she could have done worse, she mused.
If only he had had a more pleasant character to match his features.
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
Yes, Margaret is a bit of a pain ;) Let's cut her some slack, though, the girl has been through a lot. I would not want to be in her shoes (or his for that matter). The wedding is up next, so stay tuned for that!
