If you must wait,
Wait for them here in my arms as I shake
If you must weep,
Do it right here in my bed as I sleep
If you must mourn, my love
Mourn with the moon and the stars up above
If you must mourn,
Don't do it alone

Keaton Henson - You

It was a small funeral.

Mr. Thornton had slipped in at the last second, taking place at the last row. Margaret was absent from the funeral, which was an odd custom of women of the upper classes and gentry, leading to the already small number of mourners to be reduced even more. Mrs. Hale had few acquaintances in Liverpool, though some of Mr. Hale's pupils and friends had come to show their respects.

Time had run out sooner rather than later for the ailing woman.

It was a sober ceremony in an almost completely empty church. The flowers placed on top of the coffin were the flowers Margaret had brought home just two days earlier: bright pinks and reds she had been sure her mother would love, but she had arrived home too late.

Margaret had blossomed during his absence, he had realized during their time spent together during the short trip. Her bangs had been growing out, her skin was clearer, her nails were longer and less brittle, and she had even acquired some freckles from days spent in the sun.

But it appeared their carriage had left spring and hope behind, and driven them straight back into the dark cold winter.

It wasn't how it was meant to be. She had been one of the first people to have been dropped off at her home, and he one of the first people to be dropped off at his. A ring he had bought but had never gotten to present to her during their first proposal still lay waiting in his desk. She had haunted his dreams during his entire trip overseas. He had been hopeful at sea because, even knowing she wouldn't marry because of her parents, he thought there was a small possibility of finding a solution. This belief had only grown during the trip. She'd still been his Margaret, beautiful and subdued yet a match for his temper. Her smile and warmth had encouraged not only his affections but his belief that all might not be lost after all. He had grabbed the box and left, before doubt could master his bravery. He had been determined to talk it over with her, hoping that if they found a solution to her situation, she might consider marriage.

He had tried to keep supress his hope, yet he had walked to the Hale House smiling. The odds were not by any means favourable but he was determined.

However, all determination and hope crumbled when he was refused entrance to the house by their faithful servant.

"The family are not receiving guests, as they are in mourning."

"In mourning? May I enquire who has died?"

In the distance he could hear a male voice saying 'But You must see it would be a most welcome change! You could both use some sun and good company. All together.' It was not Mr. Hale's voice. And he wondered why an exception was to be made for the man who was apparently present, and why he would talk about moving. However Dixon continued, pretending she didn't hear the voice.

"Mrs. Hale. She died the day before yesterday to an ailment from which she had been suffering for a while. The family will not be receiving guests until further notice, they need time."

The service ended, and the casket was brought outside. John greeted Mr. Bell, who had come down from Oxford.

'Mr. Bell, you have come down for the funeral?'

'Ah, Mr. Thornton, it saddens me that I have to meet you under such dreary circumstances. Most horrible! I had come to spend some time with my friend for old time's sake, but I could not have planned my visited at a worse time if I tried. Poor Hale, poor Margaret, poor… all of them! My dear friend has suffered a lot, this past year has not been kind to him.'

John did not know what to answer. He did not doubt that the Hales had left Helstone with regret since they still talked of it with a lot of fondness, nor did he doubt that the adjustment to Liverpool had been difficult, and especially the blow of Mrs. Hale's illness and subsequent death was not an easy one. But he could not agree, the past year had brought him the woman he loved most, and a new friend.

'I have promised Mr. Hale to stay a while, and I hope in a couple of weeks, I can tempt him to travel back to Oxford with me. A reunion with his old friends shall do him good, I dare say.'

Had it been Mr. Bell's voice he'd heard while Dixon had refused him entrance? It was possible that Mr. Bell would have been allowed to remain if he'd arrived before Mrs. Hale's death.

'And Miss Hale is to join this trip as well?'

'Miss Hale? No, no Margaret shall stay of course. Her friends are here. She's a strong one, and resilient. Perhaps it could even do her some good to focus on herself instead of her papa. You are close to the Hale's as well. You know, without a doubt, how the dear girl always puts her parents first. So dutiful. The poor girl feels so awful about having been absent.'

Then who had been talking when he arrived at the Hale residence? And about what?

'I know', John simply agreed.

His Margaret, all alone in her house, not having been there for her mother in her hour of need and now unable to say goodbye for the final time. She would have seen her mother already prepared for burial when she entered her home, and had probably been forced to sit vigil for two days straight. She probably didn't even have any energy left to attend the funeral. He refused to imagine leaving his mother with a kiss to her warm cheek, and returning to her cold lifeless body without being able to tell her he loved her a last time.

He could still remember the last time he'd seen Margaret before entering the carriage to ride home, smiling as she plucked a last cornflower before being pushed inside the carriage by Miss Gallagher. Had he proposed on the trip he could have been there for her, to be her confidant and caretaker in this time of despair!

But now she was all alone in her mourning, and it would take at least half a year before he could even dare to consider proposing again.

Once again, fate had intervened in the most awful way possible.

He focussed on his work. He was in no mood for parties or amusement. He occasionally visited Mr. Hale but that was it, and during those occasions, he did not see Margaret, she had become a ghost in her own home.

His mother worried for him, since he had not been the same since he'd come back from the trip. He had always been serious and collected, but now he had become cold and aggressive, lashing out at her when she asked questions about the company.

The first half of last year had been successful, causing him to have invested in his company a lot. But as May was approaching, he was still trying to recover from the losses the winter season had caused. He needed to do well, and do well fast. When the company was still lagging at the beginning of the year, he hadn't worried too much, certain that they would have recovered their losses by summer. But summer was only weeks removed now.

He didn't have a lot of money left for a new expedition. But to make money without a new expedition would be very hard. He would have to sell almost everything in his warehouse if he wanted to gather enough money to pay his employees without a new expedition.

It worried him, and as the weeks progressed, Mrs. Hale worried for her son. Fanny's wedding was fast approaching, which would set them back even more. There was nothing to be done about the current proceedings though, the wedding would be elaborate, and Thornton could only watch with sorrowful eyes as their savings dwindled.

It was on such a day, when he had signed another two checks for Fanny's wedding, Mr. Bell knocked on the door of his office with the question to regularly check in with Margaret as Mr. Bell and Mr. Hale left on their trip for Oxford.

It was a small comfort he would get to see Margaret again, even now his life was such a mess.

And so he visited her, an hour every three days since he did not wish to push his luck. Most of the progress she'd made during his absence, had disappeared again. The freckles on her face had faded as she had locked herself away in her house, and her eyes had lost all the sparkle they had gained. But she was Margaret and he loved seeing her, even though his heart broke at the sight of her. He tried his best to make her smile, or make her forget the past if only for a little while, and every time he visited, he seemed to come closer to this goal.

With each visit, he drew her out of her shell more and more, as she grew accustomed to company again.

It was on his fourth and last visit he managed to achieve his goal for the first time, by announcing himself as her stalker and guard coming in to check on her. However, as she got up to shake his hand, her eye fell on a figure visible throughout the window.

It was Mr. Bell, and he was alone.

Thank you leilalolalee, mariantoinette1 and anon for your kind comments!

It's a short chapter since it's exam season again, but I found a shorter more to-the-point approach the better way to represent the grief. We're not meant to look too much into Margaret's and John's heads. From the next chapter on the story will start diverting a lot! I'm excited but nervous to introduce my twist but I hope all my dear readers will like it.

Happy 2020 by the way! (she says as she just orphaned Margaret)