Author's notes: This story begins several months after Margaret left Milton to live in London with her Aunt Shaw and her Cousin Edith. It is a multi-chapter story and I will update regularly.

Chapter One: Circumstances and Opportunities

John had done all he could to save his mill, but no amount of hard work could save it. He needed an influx of orders and capital to keep it running, and he had neither, so he made the difficult decision to close his mill. In ten days, the mill would be no more. Circumstances had created the financial crisis that had doomed the mill. The price of cotton continued to rise, and the strike several months ago dealt a hard blow to the mill finances. He had imported Irish workers to take the place of the strikers, and although that decision had brought the strike to an end, it had been a costly decision in more ways than one.

The day of the riot at Marlborough Mills changed John's life. Margaret had thrown her arms around him to protect him from wrath of the rioters, and her actions, naive and well-meaning as they were, prompted him to propose and be resoundingly rejected. He had known the timing was all wrong, but he proposed anyway. Honor demanded of him to save her reputation, and his mother had convinced him that Margaret's actions had been borne of love. If he could go back and change how he had behaved on that day, he would.

He stood up and thought about the last eight years that he had been master of Marlborough Mills. His success as a mill master had raised the Thornton's standing as one of the first families in Milton, and it had lifted them from poverty after his father's suicide seventeen years ago.

If John were to be perfectly honest, he was tired of the endless days of toil and stress. His life had been one of monotony and loneliness. He worked 12 hours a day, six days a week, and rarely socialized. The mill was his livelihood, but it brought little, if any pleasure.

His mother told him he was the most eligible bachelor in Milton, but he cared little about what any woman thought of him but Margaret. None of the women his mother thought were suitable for him held his attention. Besides, there were some decisions a man had to make on his own, and choosing a wife was one of them.

He loved his mother and his sister, but he wanted a family of his own. He wanted Margaret Hale to be his wife and for them to create the life he dreamed of having with her. Even though she had rejected him when he asked for her hand, he still loved her and hoped they might yet come to understand each other. Before her father had died, he had felt her regard for him had changed, but then he had ruined it all when he lashed out at her in his anger and hurt. Still, even when failure seemed inevitable, he worked hard to save the mill so he would be worthy of her.

Circumstances had conspired against them over and over, and they had constantly misunderstood each other. John wondered why that was so because more than anything, he wanted to understand his beloved. He wished to be able to walk the two miles to the little house in Crampton to spend time with her, but she had removed to London to live with family. He missed her. He needed her, and now, he had nothing to offer her.

John sighed and sat back down at this desk. There was a letter from Mr. Martin who owned cotton mills in America. The two men met at the Great Exhibition last year and had kept in correspondence. Mr. Martin wanted John to come to America for at least a year to help him improve his mills. Martin wanted to talk it over with him in person and had requested for John to meet him in London at his hotel on August 11th. John looked at his calendar. The date for the proposed meeting was in two weeks.

John was interested in the opportunity. America could be a fresh start for him, so he decided he would take the position that was offered to him. His sister Fanny was expecting her first child, so his mother would have a purpose in the Watson home. He knew in his sister's home; his mother would be well-cared for.

John put out the lamp on his desk and walked across the yard to the house. They only had three weeks left on the lease, and the normally spotless and well-ordered home was less so with the sorting of belongings to be kept or sold.

John greeted his mother and bent down to kiss her cheek. "Mother, I have made a decision for my future, and I need to talk it over with you.

"Yes, Son, what is it?" Mrs. Thornton could sense that John was reluctant to tell her.

"Mr. Martin, a gentleman from America that I met at the Great Exhibition, has asked me to come to America to help him improve his mills. I am going to accept the job. He will be in London in two weeks, and I will meet with him there to go over the details."

Hannah was stunned. She could not imagine going to America. "But John, I cannot leave right now since Fanny is having the baby in three months. Can you not find other work and stay here in Milton, or at least in England?"

"Mother, I am going to America alone, and you will live with the Watsons. Fanny is going to need you to help her with the baby. I will manage just fine on my own, so you do not need to worry about me."

Hannah sniffed, "You have not been the same since that girl left. You want to get away from the heartbreak she dealt you."

John sighed, "Mother, I am glad she did not accept me at that time. She did not love me. However, I love her, and I will always love her, but this move is not just about her. I am ready for a change in my life. I have been lonely for many years, Mother. I love you and Fanny, but surely you can understand that a man needs more than his mother and his sister for companionship?"

It hurt to hear her son say those words, but Hannah knew it to be true.

Mother and son discussed the changes that were to come in both of their lives late into the night. When they parted to retire for the evening, John felt his mother understood why he needed to take this opportunity.

He washed and changed for bed. He laid down but could not rest. How he wished Margaret was going to America with him. He ran his hand over her side of the bed, (in his mind, she was the only one who would ever sleep there beside him) and he felt the familiar waves of longing wash over him. He imagined her lying next to him, wrapped in his arms, and her hair fanned out across his chest.

He closed his eyes and allowed his fantasy to take over. She welcomed his touch and his kisses, and she returned them. They communicated in the language of lovers, and they understood each other well. She was his Margaret in his dream, and he was her John.

When sleep finally claimed him, he dreamed of her and the beautiful life he wished they could have together.