Author's Notes: My apologies to anyone who read the previous chapter when I initially posted it. I had uploaded the unrevised version by mistake. The correct version is there now.

Chapter Eleven: John and Henry: Margaret's Letters

Margaret waited a few days to respond to Mr. Thornton's letter. She felt his love for her as she read his letters, but it troubled Margaret that until he learned of her brother, he had treated her coldly. Also, he had been seen around Milton with Miss Latimer. He had not trusted her character, and even though he had told her that he had not stopped loving her, it still hurt. She had told him all was forgiven in Oxford, but clearly she had not let it go since it bothered her still.

She decided to read more of his journal entries to try and make sense of it all. John had written that it confused him and vexed him that the woman he loved was not the woman he thought she was. He could not make sense of it, but the evidence was clear. He had seen her in the arms of another man, and she had lied to Inspector Watson. He protected her from the inquest because he loved her, but his respect for her was damaged.

Margaret could see that he was distressed as he wrote because his handwriting was a bit messy, and it was as if he wrote without thinking. Sometimes, his thoughts were disjointed. He was hurt and he could not bear the thought that she loved another man. One entry broke her heart:

"Margaret deserves a gentleman, not a coarse tradesman like me. She looked at her lover with such tenderness. I would give anything for such a look. Oh Margaret! If only you could have loved me!"

Margaret realized in that moment, Mr. Thornton, magistrate and manufacturer, was insecure. He lacked self-esteem, and she wondered how could a man so respected not know his self-worth?

Another entry also caught her attention:

"Mother and Fanny have pushed me to form an attachment to Miss Latimer. What Mother does not seem to understand is that I will choose the woman I will marry without any help from her or Fanny. Miss Latimer may have a large dowry, and she may be pleasant enough to look at, but she has no substance, no passion. I would rather be a bachelor than married to her. I will never marry anyone else. Although my heart is sore, it still belongs to Miss Hale."

Margaret read a few more entries, but his anger was painful to read. His handwriting was dark and heavy, and there were ink splatters on the page.

She put the journal aside and replied to his last letter.

Dear Mr. Thornton,

I hope my letter finds you well. I am sorry to hear of the troubles at the mill. I have confidence in you that things will improve. I worry that you may be working very long hours, so please take care of yourself.

I appreciate the books you sent. I can promise you that Frederick and I will treasure them. I wish you could have heard Papa deliver his sermons. He could draw the congregation in and hold their attention. He spoke to their hearts from his own.

I know what you mean about wishing you could have discussed so many things with him. I feel the same. Mr. Bell is always willing to listen to me, and I appreciate that. We have had many discussions and I feel better afterwards.

Mr. Thornton, I have been reading your journal, and I am moved by so much of what you wrote. We have wasted so much time in misunderstanding, and we should have learned to speak from our hearts long ago. One thing I hope you will never do again, John Thornton, is to doubt my character. For me, that was the deepest wound of all. You professed to love me but doubted I was a virtuous woman. You ignored my attempt to explain, and I lost all hope that day that you would ever think well of me again. It caused me much angst. I know I said in Oxford that I forgave you for it, but it was not until I read your journal entries tonight that I feel have closure.

The more I read in your journal, the more I admire your courage to share your thoughts with me. It is has helped me to put our past understandings behind me because I know that you struggled with your feelings, just as I did. I cannot ever make amends for how I spoke to you the day you offered for me, but please know I am sorry. When I read your journal entries about that day, I felt quite ashamed of my behavior.

I am glad Mr. Bell told you about Fred. I had asked Papa to tell you after you saved me from the inquest, but he felt it would put you in a difficult position as a magistrate. I never told him about what happened that night at Outwood because he was so lost without Mama. I was wrong to do that, Mr. Thornton. It was his right to protect me as his daughter, and in my desire to protect him, I did wrong. I have learned my lesson that it is a dishonesty of sorts to withhold information to protect someone, and it is arrogant to think that we have the right to make choices for another person.

I think of you often, and wish you well,

Yours sincerely,

Margaret

Margaret read over her letter. She thought maybe it was too direct, but if she and Mr. Thornton were to ever truly understand each other, their past had to be addressed and put to rest. They had spoken about some of their past misunderstandings in Oxford, but there had been only a few days before she left Milton to forge a path forward in their friendship and new understanding of one another. He had held her in his arms when she had wept for her father, and he had offered her his strength the day of the funeral. She had trusted him to take care of her during the first few days of her grief, and he had.


The trip to Scotland had exhausted Mr. Bell. He had been at Lennox house for a week now ,and still, he had not recovered his usual energy. He was suffering from an ailment of which his doctor in London had told him there was no cure. Adam knew he had only months to live, and he was determined to see Margaret's future settled before he left this Earth.

This morning found him out on the terrace having breakfast with Mrs. Lennox and Margaret. The view was from the terrace was stunning. The sky was clear, and the air smelled of roses. The food was delicious, and the company was quite pleasing. Mr. Bell found he was quite glad to be in Scotland.

A servant handed the morning mail to Mrs. Lennox, and she sorted through it quickly. "Margaret, there is a letter for you."

"Thank you, Mother, it is from Henry. I shall read it later."

"Of course, my dear, you would want to read it in privacy." Mrs. Lennox turned to Adam Bell and asked him to allow her to show him her rose garden.

Margaret remained at the table alone. She opened Henry's letter and read it. He had declared his love for her and had written words she had never expected to read from him. He wanted her in every way a man wanted a woman he wished to be his wife.

She went upstairs and put Henry's letter on top of Mr. Thornton's.

What Henry wrote in his letter surprised her. She knew he cared for her, but certainly, she did not know the depth of his feelings. Their relationship was so comfortable, and they had moved passed his failed proposal without all the angst she had experienced with Mr. Thornton after he had asked for her hand. Henry's friendship had been a constant in her life for so long. He knew her well, and she knew she could trust him. Friendship and trust were important in a marriage. Her father had often talked about how friendship and trust were the bedrocks of a marriage because without them, lasting love could not be nurtured throughout a lifetime.

His letter had given her much to think about. Henry would be a loving husband, of that she had not doubt. A marriage between them would please both of their families. Margaret did not care much for London society, but she had no doubt Henry would allow her to be involve in charity work.

He had offered her this opportunity to spend time in Scotland with his mother as she came to terms with her grief. He had been attentive and had not pressured her. Truly, he was a good man.

She knew Henry would be anxious for her reply and she hoped she could find the right words.

Dear Henry,

I hope you are well. I have missed your presence at Lennox House.

Mr. Bell is here now, and it has been wonderful to spend this time with him. He and father were the best of friends, and sometimes when I speak with him, it is like I am speaking with Papa.

We have explored the countryside, taken long walks, and spent time with Mother Lennox. She could not be a more gracious hostess. I feel very loved in this house, and I am sure I will remember my time here fondly for the rest of my life, despite the circumstances that brought me here.

When I read your letter, I was overwhelmed with the depth of your feelings for me. You have kept your feelings well-guarded, and rightly so. I was not ready to hear such things. Your friendship has always meant a great deal to me, and I appreciate that you have put my needs before yours because of your love for me. Thank you, Henry.

You deserve every happiness because you are such a wonderful man.

I have enclosed a watercolor of the chapel that I painted today. It is my favorite place on the estate and where I go to seek peace in my heart.

You are dear to me, Henry.

Your friend always, Margaret

It was much later before Margaret was able to settle her mind enough to rest. Had it only been weeks ago that she had no suitor at all? Now, two equally wonderful men had offered her their hearts, and she wished the choice was clear to her. Deciding she would not find her answers tonight, she climbed into bed and let sleep claim her.