Music recommendations for the chapter (for explanation of the songs: see end of the chapter but it could contain spoilers)

The Promise - Michael Nyman, The Kiss - Last of the Mohicans soundtrack, Church - Fall Out Boy.

My playlist still exists on youtube: Pride and Power by BelgianBisous

Lady Strabolgi lead them through halls and corridors. The last doors she opened were those of a gilded ballroom with mirrored walls.

'We love throwing parties. And when the weather allows it, we leave these doors open so people can dance underneath the starry sky.'

She threw open the doors in front of her. The terrace was twice the size of the ballroom and overlooked the vegetable and floral gardens. Lady Strabolgi explained that despite the practicality of the orangery on a sidewall of the castle, and the fruit and vegetable garden, they'd put in trees, flowers and bushes to make them blend in with the rest of the garden. The rows of tomatoes were closed in by rows of violets, which were edible, apparently. The walled garden as a whole had a pattern not unlike a beautiful carpet or wallpaper.

Lady Strabolgi lead them down the stairs. It had been over a year since Margaret saw a garden like this. It was a blooming delight. The sun heated her face and she felt warm all over. She didn't even mind that Sir Aldridge walked in front with Lady Strabolgi and Miss Gallagher didn't leave her fiancé's side. She was happy that Mary and Mr. Kearney were getting on since the revelation in November and that Lady Strabolgi and Sir Aldridge got on after the awkward incident earlier.

She tried listening to Lady Strabolgi's stories and the questions she answered, but she didn't really care if she missed some particulars. She was happy walking through the rows of flowers and hedges. She'd taken off her gloves to touch the leaves and blossoming fruits. Even the air she breathed felt lighter and more alive than the air in Liverpool.

'And now, the part you all have been undoubtedly waiting for, the part designed by William Kent, it's located outside of the castle walls. The inside has been in a structured French style obviously. You can't have a Kent garden with borders. He's even designed the exit to resemble something more natural.'

The exit was installed upon the old castle walls. Rose bushes climbed their way up and around the roman-style arc installed against the castle wall. From two decorated stone vases, flowers bloomed and blossomed, vines tumbling down from them. It looked like a ruin which had been there for longer than the actual castle wall.

The trapdoor was already pulled up so that they could exit. In the distance, on a slope, stood a seemingly medieval folly.

'I see sheep, how aren't they getting here?'

'Oh, it's the wall.'

'Which wall, I don't see a wall', said Miss Thornton.

'Oh, it's there. You see, a ditch has been dug and a wall has been created in a way which doesn't disturb the view. Come on.'

Lady Strabolgi walked towards the woods and halted, for Margaret, who was trailing somewhat behind, at a seemingly random spot.

'Oh!' Miss Thornton gasped.

Margaret neared, and came to the surprising conclusion that the garden stopped abruptly, and that there was a slope, leading to a depth about Margarets height, from the land the sheep walked on, to the grass they were standing on.

'Genius', Mr. Ball recognized, who'd been talking to Miss De Vere since entering the gardens.

'Now, you have yet to see the best part', said Lady Strabolgi as she continued on.

'Margaret.'

Margaret jumped at the sound of her name. Miss Gallagher looked quite remorseful.

'I apologize for startling you. I shouldn't call you by your Christian name in public. Miss Hale, I've been neglecting you. I've set out to accompany you for at least the next leg of the journey.'

'Oh no, you mustn't feel the need, I'm quite content to just gaze at the garden in peace.'

'No, you're my friend. I like walking with you. I can't be too attached to mr. Kearney, it's in poor taste. Besides, you have a better eye for beauty than he, I'm sure.'

Margaret laughed but accepted Miss Gallagher's arm, as they walked on together.

'And Mr. Thornton was just approaching you. He's been looking at you all day.'

'Miss Hale?'

Margaret didn't know what to do with the information, and it startled her as well. She hadn't noticed. She had to admit that since entering the garden, she hadn't given anyone attention, she'd been too absorbed by the lovely nature and the buzzing sound of the bees.

'He has? Are you sure? Maybe he was looking at the garden?'

'Then you must always be standing next to the most interesting pieces present in the garden. I haven't really spent a lot of attention to him, but once we started heading for the wall, I saw. And just now, as I wondered where you were, I saw you standing there, gazing at the sheep, and him walking in your direction. Are you certain that the prospect of you two being together is impossible? You didn't want to talk to him right? Just so that I'm on the same page?'

'Yes. I mean no. I'm not looking for protection in a way that I'm shielded at all times. I simply don't want things to be awkward, which they'll probably be if we bump into each other. But I doubt he'll approach me. I've wounded him far too much I fear.'

Miss Gallagher seemed doubtful, but remained silent as they walked through a pathway carved in the woods. Layers of holy, laurel, fern and other greenery created a tunnel to another world, littered with remnants of old civilisations. A partially broken statue of an Olympic hero looked down on them from a slight elevation to their right, and on their left, lay a roman statue, seemingly sunken away in the earth. And then, a cement archway, turned green with age, signified the end of the path. They came out in a green oases. Birds were chirping, the glowing English country greeted them, and a river passed by. A blue dragonfly passed by their faces and they just back with a sound between a laugh and a cry.

'Everything all right, dear?'

'Oh yes, just a bug. Don't mind us', Miss Gallagher laughed.

Margaret shook her head in embarrassment, just as something caught their eye, above them, stood an arcade.

'What's that?'

'Beautiful isn't it, it's an arcade. My sisters and I always played in it when we were young.'

'Can we go to it?' asked Mr. Ball.

'Of course we can. There's a stairs somewhere, but you can also climb to it via various routes.'

'The stairs will be fine.'

'Search for them. That's part of the fun', Lady Strabolgi laughed.

Sir Aldridge sauntered towards Margaret and Miss Gallagher as Lady Strabolgi followed Mr. Ball, Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Thornton as they looked for the stairs.

'And, beautiful, right?'

'A stunning view.'

'It looks so… Natural.'

'Oh, the garden! Of course, yes, it's most enjoyable.'

'Sir Aldridge! You were talking about her?'

He laughed and turned his head away upon hearing Miss Gallagher's accusations. 'I admit it. But then she is stunning. Truly stunning.'

'She seems to like you too.'

'Not in the same way. She wouldn't.'

'Says who?'

'I'm too far beneath her.'

'Since when has a logical reason kept someone from falling in love?' Miss Gallagher asked with a laugh.

'You're already friends. That is the only reason I recognize as a problem, since telling her of your feelings could ruin your friendship. But Sir Aldridge, try observing her behaviour. Conclude how she feels from how she acts, not based on what you think is possible.'

He took off his hat and raked his hand through his hair.

'Perhaps I should. We've been friends for ages, and I've been in love with her from the start of it.'

He sighed and waved with the lapels of his coat.

'It's very hot today, isn't it?'

'Yes, I'm glad we're wearing dresses. You all have your full suits on', Margaret said, now that the conversation had again gone to a topic she was more familiar with.

'Yes, I might take an item off though', he sighed as he eyed his hat.

'Now come on ladies, we mustn't stray behind.'

They followed the sound of Miss Thornton and Mr. Watson's talking and found a worn and decorative staircase, neatly interwove with the nature of the hillside.

The arcade started at the top of the staircase. The floor was a mosaic, mimicking one from the home of a roman emperor and there were busts of the previous Lords and Ladies of the estate. The outlook from between the columns was breath taking.

'I could stay here forever', Miss Gallagher sighed.

'Me too', admitted Margaret. It was too easy to envision herself in a white dress roaming the woods for the rest of eternity. She was a sensible creature, but even she couldn't be reasonable in the face of such beauty.

Sublime.

That was the word. Sublime.

Mr. Thornton considered the exact same wording when looking at Margaret from a distance.

A gust of wind blew into the galleries.

Her green skirts ruffled around her, and her dark hair twirled around her, escaping their restraints.

His mind imagined a scenario in which he was the lord of this castle, looking for his wife and finding her here as she stared at the sunset. He could easily imagine himself walking up towards her, and taking her in his arms to watch it together.

It suited her, being between history and nature. And she seemed to feel at home too. Despite her upturned chin and habitually proud air, she'd sported a soft smile ever since setting foot in the garden. Her smile widened whenever she touched a flower petal, or let her hands hover over a bush. And she even laughed openly, showing off her beautiful teeth, when she'd jumped away from that bug.

At ease.

Those were the words. She seemed at ease here, while she'd always been guarded and solemn in Liverpool. It had gotten better in time, but she'd never been as relaxed as she was here.

The Lady walked towards her and Miss Gallagher, and started talking to them. The ladies entered a conversation and walked away towards the end of the arcade.

'Not missing your ships, old chap?'

'Starting too. So much green and not a drop of blue water near.'

'However shall we get through the next day?'

'I wonder', Mr. Thornton laughed.

'Maybe I'll build a paper boat and attempt an escape.'

'Ha! I'd watch that. Now come on, we can't leave our women to fend for themselves, especially with what's next on our path.'

Mr. Thornton watched as the figures in lavender, green and white grow smaller, though their voices resounded in the gallery.

'What is next?'

'Ah, the ultimate entertainment for us. I've come here so many times, at night, during daytime, it's always been a treat for the guests. It's something they love to decorate as well, depending on the occasion.'

'Come now, we'll be there in five minutes. Just tell me what it is.'

'A maze. I think we'll have the ordinary experience today, but they've sometimes put up acts in certain corners, and musicians.'

The men exited the arcade and followed the company towards an ten foot high maze. Parts of the maze were carved out to fit statues and bushes and flower bushes, but the most amazing thing was the piece of architecture within the maze. An Italian lookout tower was visible, peeking out over the rows of hedges. It gleamed a soft white in the afternoon sun.

'Can everyone gather?' asked Lady Strabolgi as she distanced herself from the group.

'It doesn't really blend in with our current garden but as it is hidden between the trees, and it took decades to grow to the height it is now, we keep it around. After all, it's still a lovely thing to have and make use of during parties. Our guests simply adore it. So, this is our maze, and within it, I've hidden a personal object of mine and your quest shall be to find it. Now, you see three entryways on this side, underneath the flower arches. There are five more on the left and the right, and even an additional four at the back. Everyone can enter through a separate entryway. It is possible that, after entering, you might encounter other players depending on the turns you take. If you've found my object, don't tell them. Once you've retrieved it, you need to find your way out and return to me as quickly as possible, then I shall give a signal with my pistol so everyone can know and get out.'

'Have you brought a pistol?'

Lady Strabolgi smiled and lifted her hand. Around her wrist hung a moderately sized purse. Sir Aldridge's eyebrows lifted in surprise. 'You've been carrying that around the entire time?'

'Oh yes, of course. I would be an irresponsible host to not think ahead. Besides, what if a wild fox came for us in the woods?'

Sir Aldridge laughed and shook his head.

'Oh, I forget to ask, but Sir Aldridge, would you mind keeping me company? You know the maze too well. So the game wouldn't be as much fun for you, and should anyone get stuck or panic, you might retrieve them. But otherwise, I'll be on my own, waiting until someone gets out.

'Milady, I am entirely at your service.'

'Lovely.'

'So, my new friends, find your entrance. Your quest begins now.'

The group split apart amid jokes and laughter. The couples and siblings bidding each other a dramatic goodbye and a half-hearted wish for good luck.

Margaret bid Miss Gallagher goodbye, and entered the maze. The maze absorbed all the sounds and she was suddenly engulfed in a muted environment. She could distantly hear laughter and voices, but she could no longer clearly hear them or distinguish where they came from.

The hedges were impossibly thick, there was no way to look through them.

Luckily, there were still some bees and butterflies, otherwise the contrast between the lively environment on the outside of the maze and the inside would've been too jarring.

The game didn't really matter to her, so she just set about walking, giving no real thought to which turn she took.

She discovered vases with stone flowers, vases with actual flowers, rose bushes, berry bushes and lovely sculptures along the way. It was enough for her.

She was happy to just roam and lose herself to nature and thought. She pondered over everything, her brother and mother at home, Sir Aldridge and Lady Strabolgi who were now alone together, and finally, Mr. Thornton and his alleged staring.

It wouldn't have surprised her had Mr. Thornton decided to move on. She had fully expected it, despite his claim to "love, and will love."

After all, she'd made it clear that she wouldn't marry. And since discovering her feelings, she hadn't even been able to be friendly, despite parting on friendly terms before he left.

Eying the split in her path, giving her the option to continue or turn left, she decided to gaze into the path to her left before deciding.

It was a small path, which didn't continue for long. But around the bend, she could discern a large column and the top of a building over that hedge. Was it the tall structure she'd seen from the outside?

She felt compelled to turn left and follow that path. With almost childlike excitement she ran through the corridor and followed the twist. To her shock and amazement, it wasn't the structure she'd seen from outside. It was a small temple on an elevation, with three columns on each side and three steps of stairs leading up to it. In each column a statue was put, holding up the Corinthian capitals. Vines of rose bushes were climbing up the columns. She was starting to think the maze, despite not being Kent's style, had suffered through Kent's decorative attempts. But by now, she knew the roses didn't accidentally grew on the statues and buildings, but had been intentionally planted for an "ancient" effect.

She neared the temple. Muses, Margaret discovered upon looking at the objects the statues held in their hands.

The back of the temple didn't have any muses, but had Aphrodite and Hephaestus, between them was a column of flames, with doves, roses, swans and myrtle rising out of the flames, as if Hephaestus had crafted them for his wife.

The sound of pebbles jumping away from under a pair of shoes with hard soles, pulled Margaret's attention away from the temple.

It was Mr. Thornton, who seemed just as surprised to find another person.

'Miss Hale.'

He wasn't wearing his overcoat or his coat. It was the first time she'd seen him without so much dark clothing. He'd always been an imposing figure, and Margaret had partially put it down to his preference for boxy silhouettes and the sturdy shoulders of his suits. But his shoulders were just as broad now that he only had his white shirt and dark blue vest on.

'They're attractive to you. And sometimes you're ashamed to admit it. You look for them in crowds, you think of them in ways you shouldn't. You still know there are handsomer men on a technical level, and you want to admit that they aren't on the same level. But in your heart of hearts, you can't help but feel a certain way about their looks… Even when the looks of handsome men leave you cold.'

'Mr. Thornton.'
She bowed her head, in a polite gesture, which also gave her the possibility to hide the emotions seeing him in such a state brought forth. She knew that for him, nothing between them had changed, so she would greet him the way she was supposed to. She wouldn't be impolite.

'Any luck finding the item?' he asked.

'I'm not really looking, but I haven't seen it yet, no.'

'Me neither.'

'You aren't looking, or you haven't found it?'

Mr. Thornton huffed a laugh as he neared the structure as well.

'I've done my bit of looking, but I've been unsuccessful so far.'

Margaret nodded and turned towards the temple again, as she felt her cheeks grew hot as he kept talking to her.

It was probably just the spring heat finally getting to her instead of Mr. Thornton.

He seemed to suffer underneath the ministrations of the sun as well, since he'd already taken off his hat and two pieces of clothing.

The silence was too heavy, and, feeling self-conscious and awkward, Margaret felt the need to break it.

'It's beautiful, isn't it?' she asked as she touched a pillar.

'It is.'

'Have you encountered other structures so far?'

'A couple of statues and vases, and one very elaborate birth bath. Have you?'

'Statues and vases… If we find it here, who will take it?'

'I have no need for glory, personally.'

'Neither do I', Margaret smiled as she brought her face close to a white rose.

'How about the following proposition. A deal, if you will, if we find it here, we shall bring it to Lady Strabolgi together.'

'I think I can be perfectly comfortable with that arrangement.' The silence was back again. And this time, Mr. Thornton feared that it was his fault. He finally had Margaret all to himself, and he'd be damned if he wouldn't use the opportunity to the fullest.

'Are they… meaning something? I recognise the one in the back… It's clearly Venus… But the others…'

His voice was muted, gentle almost.

Mr. Thornton felt uncomfortable in his lack of knowledge on intellectual topics, it was why he went to her father for classes.

He was trying to be open, despite everything.

'It is Venus, or well, not really… Not really. It's a Grecian temple, you see. So it would be – '

'Aphrodite.'

'Yes.'

Now she had to look at him to encourage him. It would be cruel to do otherwise.

She turned around, and was startled by how close he'd come.

His eyes were so blue. They'd never been done justice in the candlelit rooms of Liverpool, now, underneath the bright light of the spring sun, she could notice they were as clear and bright as fresh water from the clearest waterfall, and as blue as the sky right before sunset on a lovely summer day.

'And then, next to it, when applying deduction, is…'

'Hephaestus', he breathed as he stepped past her towards the two statues.

She left him to his own thoughts as she examined the muses. There was clio, the muse of history, Calliope with her tablet with poetry on it, Terpsichore with a harp in her left arm and her right arm in a ballet pose, and then there was Erato with…

'Oh… It's…'

'Miss Hale? What is… Oh.'

There, around the white neck of the muse of love, hung a white scarf. Only a gust of wind betrayed that it wasn't a part of the realistically sculpted drapery on the statue itself.

She moved towards it, but couldn't touch it.

She hadn't lied when she'd said that she didn't care for the price, but being so close to it, she felt the childish urge to retrieve it.

Forgetting herself and her surroundings, she reached out, finding herself too short. However, the pillar the muse was hewn out of, had plenty of room to place her feet, and it was low enough for her to step onto, but high enough for her to be able to reach for the neck of the muse.

'Miss Hale?'

'Well, we need to retrieve it, right? I believe even you can't reach for it.'

'No indeed, I can't.'

She gently grasped the waist of the muse, and carefully placed her foot on the pedestal to test the sturdity of the structure.

Deciding it was safe, she pushed herself off the floor with her remaining foot. Now on the structure, she slowly reached upwards, until both her hands were around the neck of Erato.

'Miss Hale, please be careful.'

She could hear he was close, but she focussed on her task. She wouldn't let herself get distracted while standing on such a narrow surface.

She felt for the knot at the back of the sculpture's neck and, after finding out how it was knotted, gave it a tug.

But, miscalculating how tight the knot was, she found herself stumbling backwards when the knot gave immediately.

'Margaret!'

As her feet slipped away, she experienced a brief moment of weightlessness. Her eyes shut as she anticipated the hard marble floor, but instead she collided way sooner with something not nearly hard enough. Her back and the back of her legs hit two strong objects. As she opened her eyes in shock, she found herself in Mr. Thornton's arms. She found herself growing restless and uneasy under his intense gaze, yet, this time, she was unable to break eye contact.

'One needn't be handsome to be attractive, Margaret love. But you don't understand that yet, I can see the confusion in your eyes. You talk of love as if it is a chore one has to do, dear girl, but the thing is… Loving isn't a thing you can do, it just happens. Your mind and body will know before you are even aware of it, despite their character and despite their looks. You might even find yourself disagreeing with who you have decided to fall in love with.'

Her heartbeat was going at an unknown pace, and as it picked up in speed, it became so loud she could hear it resonating in her ears.

She didn't understand the two forces fighting within her, one wanting to revel in the light of his attention, and the other wanting to shy away from it.

It was the attraction her mother had tried telling her about.

Neither of them knew what caused it; a blink, a gust of wind, a sound, but the moment passed, and both grew conscious of the impropriety of their situation and the amount of time which had passed.

Mr. Thornton gently put her down, and Margaret gave an awkward cough to break the silence.

'We should… Find the exit.'

'Yes! Yes indeed. Do you remember the path you've taken? I think I can remember mine.'

'I can, I always turned right, I've once read that that's the guaranteed way to get out of a maze.'

'Oh, is it?'

'Apparently. It lead me to the place of the object, at least.'

'It did.'

But so did Margaret's random choosing of the paths.

They stood there, looking anywhere but the other.

'Perhaps, you could lead the way then?'

'Y-yes of course', Mr. Thornton decided and walked towards the way he came from.

Margaret followed, trailing a bit behind, but just as she walked into the lane he came from, she noticed something dark on the floor of the temple.

'Mr. Thornton, your coat.'

He turned to look over his shoulders, only now realizing he was neither wearing nor carrying his hat or clothing pieces.

He'd forgotten about them once Margaret fell, and had been so absorbed by his feelings since, that he hadn't thought of them again. They both made way for the temple, and then both stopped once they noticed the other moving.

'Um-'

'They're mine, I'll get them.'

Margaret turned her face away from him, hiding her burning cheeks once more.

What was the matter with her?

She couldn't even control her face or feelings around him anymore. She'd never been so self-conscious before, nor had she ever struggled so much to find the words to say. Everything she said or did around him felt wrong and weird.

Mr. Thornton arrived at the temple and bent down.

There, with his loose billowing sleeves and his tight pants he looked like something of a hero from a romantic novel. Out of his trusty dark rooms, cloudy seaside town and out of his business clothes, he seemed more human and yet more than human all the same.

His hips sure were narrow compared to his amazingly broad shoulders. She'd never noticed before, since his coat always covered most of him. He was no classical Greek sculpture, and if his usual clothes had hidden so much of his physique, he could still look quite different when divested of all – no, no Margaret Hale, don't think of that!

But a sculpture from the Hellenistic period, yes, that could fit his physique. Like Lysippos' Hercules. She blushed at the recollection of the statue from an art book. Thinking of that particular piece of art wasn't helping her at all.

'Miss Hale?'

She blinked and found Mr. Thornton had gotten closer to her again, and seemed to be waiting for a response.

'Yes?'

'I asked how your mother was?'

'Oh.'

She started walking again.

'She's… Well. I believe.'

Mr. Thornton took the lead again.

'She's been very well the last few days. My… Father hopes she's getting better. But the doctor told me that was quite impossible, and I tend to believe the doctor. I'm happy that she's had a few good days, but I'm not as optimistic.'

She'd almost betrayed her secret. She should be more on guard. Stop being so fanciful, Margaret, your silence is a matter of life and death.

'I hope your mother will stay with us for a long while yet.'

'So do I… Your mother is well, I hope?'

'She is. Very. She's got a sturdy disposition.' His lips lifted upwards, until he became aware of how they could be misinterpreted.

'Not that yours is –'

'Mr. Thornton, it is quite alright really. No offense taken, my mother never was a beacon of health, whenever someone got ill, she was the first to pick it up as well. She's always been prone to ailments… But up until now, they were just that… Things which could be fixed with time and medicine.'

She glanced at Mr. Thornton from the corner of her eye, and he wore the most sombre look. What was he thinking about?

'Margaret, you said she might not get better. If you have the possibility to marry with both of them present, I suggest you take it.'

Perhaps, she should reconsider. Would it be that bad?

Perhaps it wouldn't.

And perhaps it would be nice, to be together with someone who could support her and who she could support in turn through the trials and tribulations life had in store.

But, she was only in love. It took more than being in love to be man and wife.

Could she work together with him?

Could they agree?

Were their tempers matched?

Could she approve of his position, and live with herself as his wife?

These were the big questions she didn't know the answer to.

But did Mary know the answer to those questions before she became engaged? Did Edward?

But their love had always been so different from hers. Hers felt more like an awful agony. She was never excited to see him, the thought to interact with him made her so nervous she felt physically unwell. Their conversation was civil and awkward at best. They were so incredibly different.

Yet there had been those times, where she felt she understood him, and admired him, and felt listened to by him, and were these not essential things to a marriage?

Thoughts and doubts made her a poor conversationalist for the remainder of their walk, and if Mr. Thornton was aware of her distractedness, he made no mention of it.

They broke out of the maze on the front side.

Lady Strabolgi and Sir Aldridge were sitting on a bench nearby, immersed in conversation.

Margaret felt sorry to interrupt them, and was hesitant to call out to them. But Lady Strabolgi noticed them, and jumped upright.

'Have you retrieved it, or given up?'

Sir Aldridge jumped up, his brow clouded with worry, when seeing who accompanied his dear new friend.

'We've retrieved it I believe. Is this yours?' Margaret asked as she presented the scarf.

'It is! Great job, which one of you found it?'

'It was a combined effort', Margaret admitted, smiling at Mr. Thornton. He nodded back.

'Well, congratulations to you both, finding another person and the scarf in that maze. It's a pretty temple, is it not?'

'It is', they admitted simultaneously.

'I shall inform the others', Lady Strabolgi said as she retrieved her gun and stepped away from them.

They looked at each other one last time, before a shot chased away all the natural sounds, and elicited a number of cries from the maze. Sir Aldridge approached them, and they were absorbed in a conversation. Gone was their moment.

And no other occasion would present itself for the remainder of the day, for Margaret never came near him again in a way that they could have a private conversation.

Sir Aldridge excused himself as everyone, after tea, prepared to return to the inn. There was 'some business' he had to arrange before he could return.

A business which, Margaret discovered that night upon his return, was an engagement between him and Lady Strabolgi.

He was overjoyed, and could talk of nothing else. He wished to celebrate, but didn't dare tell anyone but Margaret and Mary.

'I'm too happy, and way too lucky. Tomorrow she'll wake up and realize what a mistake she's made. I won't take offence, nothing can change the happiness she's brought me. Oh, if today were my last day on earth, I'd die in peace. I didn't know I could be this happy, and I've had a perfectly great life up until now. Oh, to love and be loved in turn, there's no greater joy on this earth. She's too good. Too perfect, too divine.'

The next day, when they explored the surrounding countryside, Lady Strabolgi had still not changed her mind.

Mr. Thornton, who had supressed his hopes and dreams after the events of the previous day because of the bond between Margaret and Sir Aldridge, was shocked to hear of the news of the engagement, as was Mr. Ball, though he had been most occupied with Miss De Vere.

But – if there was nothing between them, that meant Margaret was still as available as she had been months ago.

So the only thing still standing between them was not another man, but her mother's health, and Margaret's feelings.

He didn't dare guess Margaret's feelings, as Margaret she was to him, dear and precious, and he knew that she could not feel so right in his arms if God hadn't intended it that way. Yet, he had to admit that there had been something in the air the previous day, and something in her behaviour, which had been warmer than before, right before she became distracted as they exited the maze. But perhaps, he should try again, and better himself.

Her mother's health couldn't be helped. But if she worried for her family, he was certain they could find a solution together.

She wanted to be with them and there was plenty of room for them in his house.

There wasn't a thing he wasn't willing to do, if it could bring her to her natural home in his arms.

Yes.

He would better his ways, and become a man worthy of her love, and she would see, yes, she would see, that they were meant to be.

.

.

.

.

.

Notes:

Songs for this chapter:

*The Promise - Michael Nyman: Mr. Thornton looking at Margaret in the arcade.

*The Kiss - Last of the Mohicans soundtrack: the maze game and the retrieval of the scarf.

*Church - Fall Out Boy: Mr. Thornton's feelings for Margaret at the end.

And now the short history lesson of the day: The title of Lord/Earl/Baron of Strabolgi was officially called out of abeyance in 1916 but it has always had a disputed reputation since both the name was spelled differently (Strathbogie) and the title preceding the name varied. It seemed an ideal candidate for a noble family in a Jane Austen work since it could have existed at the time, but it isn't an important name so there are no politics tied to it. Up until now I've simply used the characters from North& South and used a select couple of historical characters and I once referenced a character from another piece of fiction. I dislike making up "big names" Miss De Vere and Mary Gallagher are fine because they're just minor people with not too much money or influence. But creating a fictional lordship isn't a cool thing to do imo because there are actual lords in the time living in the exact same region. The historian in me is a bit annoyed then.