John had no idea what he was going do nor what he would say to Margaret that evening. However, that would not stop him. Providence did, in fact, seem to have some hand in this affair and he decided to simply let the Spirit guide him.

His mother wasn't at all pleased about his sudden desire for classical Greek instruction this evening. Especially after he had already told her that morning he would go to bed early. She reminded him of this but he brushed her off. He would have his own way.

He did not think it was possible to get to Crampton any faster than he had Monday evening, without running of course, but he proved that theory wrong tonight. He did pause on the doorstep though, long enough to catch his breath and calm his racing heart before knocking.

His knock was answered before he had time to drop his hand to his side. Margaret, a vision of loveliness as always, peered anxiously around the door. The two of them just stood there staring at each other for a long moment until Margaret smiled, her cheeks flushed, and then her eyes dropped.

"Please, come in, Mr. Thornton," she implored.

Not taking his eyes off of her, John stepped across the threshold and Margaret closed the door behind him.

After some minutes of awkward silence, where he looked down at her and she looked down at the floor, she finally raised her head, not quite meeting his eyes, and asked, "May I take your coat and hat for you?"

As he handed them to her their fingers touched accidentally, or maybe it was him, and she gasped in surprise at the electric shock she always felt when they touched. She had been too nervous to even think about enacting her foiled plan from Monday night. Her eyes shot to his and he had a soft smile on his face. She smiled and relaxed, and took the coat and hat.

John watched her hang the garments. He saw her run her hand slowly down the length of his coat as if she were stroking her favorite pet. He looked away, setting his books on the table, so she wouldn't catch him staring and finally finding his voice he cleared his throat. She jumped slightly at the sound and turned toward him.

He faced her and said, "It was you, wasn't it?" More a statement than a question.

Margaret's eyes went wide and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Was he going to be that direct about her letter?

She managed to stammer out, "E-excuse me?"

"It was you who warmed my hat and coat the last time I was here, wasn't it?" He wanted an answer this time.

"Y-yes," she admitted, her eyes falling self-consciously to the floor, hands clasped in front of her.

"Thank you," John said sincerely, "It was a very pleasant and welcome surprise."

He willed her to look at him and she eventually did.

Now it was her turn to ask – or state, "It was you who sent the roses, wasn't it?"

"I did," he replied smiling, "Did you like them?"

"Yes," she replied animatedly, "they are very beautiful."

"Not nearly as beautiful as you," he stated, stepping closer to her and taking a hand in both of his. Margaret sucked in a breath and their eyes remained locked. "Margaret," he said, "I received your letter."

"And I, yours," she added in a barely audible whisper, placing her other hand on top of his. They intertwined their fingers and held onto each other.

"It seems we have been," he paused and wrinkled his brow as if searching for the right word, "misunderstanding each other."

Margaret dropped her gaze to their clasped hands. She smiled and blushed and looked back up into his eyes with her now watery ones. "Yes, it seems we have," she agreed, smiling.

"Then let me now be perfectly clear," he raised one hand and cupped her cheek wiping away a tear that had begun to fall. "Margaret Hale, I love you. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you and I have never stopped. I love your beauty, your kindness, your grace, your intelligence, and your stubbornness."

More tears began to fall but she was smiling. He lifted his other hand and held her face with both, wiping away her tears as they fell.

"And I love you John Thornton," she rejoined, "I love your strength, your integrity, your forthrightness, your kind heart, and your stubbornness, stubborn as a bulldog I'm told." They chuckled. John knew exactly who had said that.

Still holding her face, John began to lean down. He looked from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes again, seeking permission. Her eyes answered by following the same path. When their lips met it was like an explosion of sensation neither of them had experienced before.

When they finally pulled apart, John, still holding her face, closed his eyes and swallowed. He looked into her eyes again and with a concerned and anxious countenance he said, "Margaret, will you marry me?"

His whole body trembled with the words and Margaret reached up to still his shaking hands against her cheeks. Looking into his deep blue eyes she answered, "Yes, John, I will marry you."

He drew her face to his and kissed her again, long and deep. She slid her arms around his neck and plunged her hands into his thick black hair. He groaned at the sensation. He put one arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She squeaked in surprise and smiled against his lips.

They broke apart at the sound of footsteps upstairs. Margaret slid her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, trembling from the force of their passion. John wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. They stood that way for many minutes just breathing in each other's scent as their racing hearts calmed to a more moderate pace.

Finally John pulled away. "I did tell your father I was coming for a lesson," he said, "I do not wish to disappoint him. Shall I ask him for his blessing before I leave?"

"Yes, please do," she replied eagerly, "I will attend your lesson and then step out after serving the tea. You can ask him then."

"Very well," he said and then he dropped his head again to place one more lingering kiss on her lips before grabbing his books and heading upstairs.

Margaret did watch him go, admiring the handiwork of his tailor. She turned and checked herself in the hallway mirror. Her hair was still presentable but her lips were redder than normal and slightly swollen. She went down to the kitchen and grabbed a quick glass of water to cool herself off before speaking to Dixon about the tea. She then ascended the stairs to join the gentlemen in the study.

Her father and Mr. Thornton were seated in the two armchairs flanking the fireplace.

As soon as he saw her, her father said, "Ah, Margaret, there you are, my dear. What lovely flowers," he indicated the vase on the tea table, "Where did they come from?"

"Oh," replied Margaret, quickly glancing at John, "A-a secret admirer."

"What?" her father queried slightly perturbed, "They came without a note?"

"No name was attached," she honestly replied but avoided the actual question.

"Well, John," Mr. Hale said jokingly, "what do you propose I do if I have some rogue secretly sending my daughter flowers? I suppose I could challenge the man to a duel if I only knew his name…"

Even though the suggestion was in jest, John still colored in embarrassment. He did, however, manage a reply, "Ah, Mr. Hale, you must go easy on the poor chap. He must be a completely besotted fool indeed to go to such lengths." John flashed a wink at Margaret when her father wasn't looking and she blushed.

The discussion of Plato was lively and thoroughly enjoyed by both of the gentlemen, as well as Margaret. She even challenged John's opinions on a few occasions. This resulted in some very, er, passionate discussions. John loved every minute of it. Margaret loved seeing her father animatedly involved in a pursuit he enjoyed so much. It was also pleasing to see John so engaged in the subject as well. She was certain he would have been quite the scholar if he had ever had the chance.

The lesson had been rather engaging but John couldn't wait for it to end. He breathed a sigh of relief, thankfully inaudible, when Margaret rose to serve the tea.

This time she was wearing the troublesome bracelet and John sat back to watch the show. It fascinated him to see her push it up impatiently, until it tightened her soft flesh; and then to mark the loosening-the fall. He could almost have exclaimed-'There it goes, again!' Once they were married, he joked to himself, he would have to require her to wear the bracelet every time she served tea. He was also looking forward to using her fingers as sugar-tongs as was sometimes done by her father.

After the tea was served, Margaret curtsied and excused herself. That was his cue.

Once the door was closed behind her he began, "Mr. Hale, I have a confession to make."

"Oh?" said his tutor, somewhat concerned.

"It was I who sent your daughter the roses," he stated plainly.

Mr. Hale thought for a second and said, "Well, John, I'm sure you know I was only joking about the duel," he paused thoughtfully then asked, "Does Margaret know?"

"Yes," John replied, "I arrived early and we spoke – of many things. Mr. Hale?" he said with some gravity, "I would like to request permission to marry your daughter."

"John!" her father exclaimed, "That would be wonderful! Margaret has agreed?"

Closing his eyes for a second and smiling at the memory, he replied, "Yes, she has."

"Well," said Mr. Hale, "I am not certain how all of this has come about. I'm sure one or the other of you can tell me all about it later. In the meantime, you have my blessing. I can think of no other man I would be more pleased to give my daughter to than you, John."

"Thank you, sir," replied his pupil.

Margaret returned before long and her father rose and came to her. Taking her hands in his he said, "I believe congratulations are in order, Margaret, dear. John tells me you have agreed to marry him."

"Yes, father," she said blushing and beaming at her betrothed.

"You two have my hearty blessing," he declared.

She reached up and kissed his cheek in gratitude.

"Well," her father said, "why don't I head off to bed now and leave you two alone. I'm sure you have things to discuss." He cleared his throat and turned to go.

"Goodnight Papa," and "Goodnight Mr. Hale," sounded simultaneously as he walked out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

John rose and went to Margaret, gathering her into his arms and kissing her. He then led her over to the settee where they could sit side by side. He took Margaret's hand in his and began to play with her bracelet, gently sliding it up and down her arm, giving Margaret the most exquisite tingling sensation.

"You know," said he, "I love it when you wear this to serve tea."

She giggled, "Really?"

"Yes," he affirmed, "I love to watch you push it up and then I wait for it to slide down again." He illustrated his words with the hand that was playing with the bracelet. "You get this adorable little frustrated look on your face and impatiently push it up once more and the delicious process starts all over again." He smiled mischievously at her.

She laughed. It was like the tinkling of little bells to John. His heart soared at the sound of her laughter as did his pride as he was the cause of it.

She said, still giggling, "I always regret it when I wear this bracelet to serve tea, for that very reason." Then looking lovingly into his eyes she said, "I will never regret it again."

"No, on the contrary," he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, "you will always wear this bracelet when serving me tea." He kissed the top of her head. "I will have it written into the marriage contract."

Margaret looked up at him in mock indignance and only had time for a small chuckle before his lips descended upon hers again.

When the job had been thoroughly accomplished he leaned back soaking in the dreamy look in her eyes. He took her left hand in his, and said, "I have another little bauble to add to your collection." He pulled a simple diamond engagement ring out of his pocket and slid it onto her finger.

Margaret gasped and said, "Little bauble, indeed!" Admiring it more closely, she gushed, "It's marvelous, John. Thank you!"

Looking into her eyes he said, "Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

She snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.

THE END