Summary:

Margaret can't let "You must imagine what I must think" lie.

A Blazing Row

-OO-

Mr Thornton turned as he got to the foot of the stairs. His face was set in such hard, grim lines, his eyes cold and angry as they always seemed to be when he looked at her these days. He had one more thing to lash her with:

"I hope you realise any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over!"

He did not wait to see her face fall. She let him go up the stairs in his whirlwind of temper, thoroughly upset. She was furious with him for not believing her – for not giving her the benefit of the doubt. He really thought she – Richard Hale's daughter! - would embrace a strange young man, in public, at night?

She was absolutely determined to have it out with him. He was clearly seething with volcanic emotion. Why? That he had called Mason off and saved her from embarrassment could certainly be explained by his concern as her father's friend, but his rage with her could not. Why was he so angry with her if she mattered nothing to him, as he had just so forcefully declared?

She had had a good deal of time to work herself up into a fine temper of her own by the time he came back down the stairs after his lesson. He looked surprised to see her there and stopped dead, clutching his book like armour.

"Mr Thornton – I must speak with you – " She was so small before him, but entirely imperious, her chin lifted high, as unafraid to take him on as she had been unafraid to the first day they met. Her cold, light voice went on, "If you will wait, I shall ask my father not to disturb us for a short while."

One arched eyebrow rose. What speculations he might be making did not show on that bleak face.

She ran upstairs and asked her father to give her some little time for a matter she must discuss with Mr Thornton. Her dear, dear father did not ask any questions, though no doubt he wondered.

"Of course, my dear. I shall be half an hour tidying these books at any rate. Take as long as you want. Come up and fetch me when you are finished."

She was out of breath and slightly flushed when she entered the room again, and closed the door behind her, and faced him and wasted no time getting started on it.

"Mr Thornton, I am absolutely astonished at the aspersions you have cast on my character tonight. I tried to thank you for the kindness you did me, and you were rude, very rude! and you will not listen to my answer that it was not as you thought. How dare you not believe me? "

He had gone completely still. He knew now what sort of attack he was under. "I would have believed any answer you gave me, Miss Hale, but you refused to give me one at all."

"I don't believe I owe you one, Mr Thornton. I am not answerable to you, am I?"

He said from a frozen silence, "Indeed you are not, Miss Hale."

"Your insistence that I must have done something unworthy has made me so angry!"

"That's clear enough." Annoyingly, her temper seemed to have settled him down. He was icy-cool, she was the heated one, pacing about, wringing her hands. She supposed she could tell him the truth, she was tempted, just to make him have to apologise for being so insulting – but why should she? It should be perfectly enough that she had told him she could not tell without betraying a confidence.

"You must be wondering why... since you clearly assume me to be of loose morals – why you began at the wrong end, Mr Thornton – why you began with an offer of marriage – you are probably thinking it was hardly needed - since you know I am a dissolute woman who will give embraces and kisses away to anyone bold enough to try?"

"Now you are putting words into my mouth. Don't tempt me, Miss Hale." But now she had cracked the ice. His voice had risen and now he was glaring at her in a temper.

"I dare you to," she hissed, "Maybe then you will feel us equal in our dishonour. Maybe then we can return to speaking civilly - under my father's roof."

She saw him tempted. He took one step nearer her, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. She took two challenging steps towards him and lifted her face, bold and resolute.

She could feel his breath on her skin... the quiver of his lips, so close that her own felt a sense of their warmth ... she closed her eyes. Did their lips meet? She was not sure...

"No, thanks," came his voice, now far away. He must have leapt back several feet. "It's much less fun with permission. You know so much about us men - you must know that," he stamped every other word with bitterness.

She opened her eyes to find his intense hard gaze on her face.

"You have not done your cause of re-establishing your character with me any good at all, Miss Hale."

Outraged by that, she was more than ready to fight back. Who did he think he was?

"Do you think you have done yours any good with me? Your behaviour to me since your proposal has been nothing short of appalling! You have been cold and rude at every meeting, and I have done nothing – nothing, I tell you – to earn it. I should hold you to that offer of marriage. You deserve it. I am thinking of your mother's face when you tell her. I feel quite determined, Mr Thornton. I shall manoeuvre you into it by fair means or foul. Would you care to kiss me again? It was insubstantial. I am not quite sure it would stand up in a court of law."

"I'll mekkit easy for you," he said, with a laconic sneer, and a core of pure glittering anger. "Here you are, Miss Hale," – he extended one open hand – "No need for you to muse on tricks and traps. I offer you myself in marriage, once more. Will you marry me?"

"It would serve you right if I said Yes, Mr Thornton," she cried, aggrieved.

His eyes on hers were intense, hard, dark. "Then say yes."

She hesitated.

He gave her a smile which blazed with brilliant, cruel charm. "Now you're tempted."

She turned away from him, now unsure - not wanting him to see her sudden doubts. She should never have started this. "Tempted? Why should I want to marry you? How would it benefit me, Mr Thornton?"

"I thought you just explained. First, to 'see my mother's face.' Secondly, I presume, to make me unhappy.'"

She was incensed by that. "You really are insufferable. Why should marriage to me make you unhappy?"

"Well, it was not me who said it would," he countered with a sharkish smile. "According to you, I, insufferable, would deserve it – from the sound of it, you weren't intendin' to make my life more comfortable – your own words, Miss Hale."

He was better at this game than she was. She subsided, deflated.

"It seems we are both agreed that it would be a terrible idea – " she said.

"I've not actually said that."

"I suppose you thought, just because you have wealth and handsome looks, I should have been honoured by your proposal!"

"Many women would be."

"You see? Insufferable!"

"Just bein' honest, Miss Hale. It was you who detailed reasons I might be considered marriageable. As it happens I can hardly move most days for falling over some young piece who thinks she has a chance wi'me . I say this not to brag but –"

" – oh, I'm sure you do not!" she said derisively.

"I sincerely do not, Miss Hale. As it happens, I doubt my own value as a husband – quick to temper, driven to work, not blessed with the right conversation to make me fit company for a gentlewoman – I'm just sayin' that in general, there's no shortage of unmarried women who see a wealthy man and are prepared to overlook his general character and unpleasingness for the sake of a comfortable life."

"Well, I am not one of them!"

The light went out of his eyes, leaving them quite blank. His lashes flickered. He did not look at her as he said, "You've made that abundantly clear. On more than one occasion. Well, amusin' though this has been, enough. I bid you good day."

He tipped his hat to her, turned on his heel. He had got as far as the door before she called him back.

"Mr Thornton – "

He half turned his head slowly to her. "What do you want now?" his expression utterly closed off to her.

"Mr Thornton, I – " her head bowed. Then she bravely lifted it and met his eyes. "Please don't leave in temper. That was not my intention. This has not gone as I intended it at all. Believe it or not, I would like us to be... friends."

His brow rearranged itself in quizzical lines. "You go a strange way about it, Miss Hale."

"I was so angry," she confessed. "You made me angry, believing me capable of such wrong-doing as you do. It's true I feel very wronged by that, and I wanted you to know it, but I have not behaved well tonight. I am sorry."

He shoved his hands into his pockets, remembered where he was, removed them and took a turn about the small room.

"The thing is, Mr Thornton – "

"Yes?" he pushed a hand through his hair, glanced at her, unreadable.

"You do not really believe me capable of such behaviour. I know you do not believe it. You just once again offered your hand in marriage to me, even if it was cruelly meant. You would not have done so if you believed me a woman with so few morals she would embrace a strange man at midnight on a public platform."

She was suddenly completely, utterly certain she was right. He did not believe it of her. He almost wished he did, perhaps. But he did not.

"Oh, I knew I was safe enough. I knew you wouldn't 'ave me, Miss Hale," he said after a moment.

"How did you know that? You said you weren't sure we agreed on it being a terrible idea."

"Well, I don't pretend to be good at these things. At understanding women's feelings. Or the little games they play. I'm a simple workin' man – as you know – I deal in facts and figures. "

His eyes on her face were curious. He could not work her out at all.

"I got it so very wrong last time, didn't I?" he added. "I thought there was a chance, a small one mebbe but a chance nonetheless. But you didn't even take a moment to think about it. You knew already you'd never take me, even before I began to speak. Pity I didn't see it. Would've saved us some grief."

She swallowed at that. "We are different people now. I am different."

He was still and silent, trying to make sense of it. "What are you saying, Miss Hale? Mek it simple for me. I'm a simple fellow," with a little caustic smile.

"Well... I..." she looked away from him. She had spent hours considering him lately, alone in her room at night. Thinking about how she had got his character so wrong on a first impression. How others spoke of him more warmly than she had ever thought possible. How he, which she had not realised at first, was considered the kindest and most reasonable of the Masters. How he had tried to bring comfort to her mother when she was so ill. More than anything, how her dear father revered and liked him.

And how she hated him to look in the direction of another woman. Why?

She lifted brave clear eyes to his. "I don't know what I want! That is the truth, Mr Thornton."

He was wearing such a careful look, not to betray even a hint of feelings, but that jolted him and his eyes flew wide.

"But in any case," she added, "you just told me... in no uncertain terms... that you no longer had feelings for me. So that is that, is it not?"

He still did not reply, frowning eyes darting quickly over some inner confusion.

"Is that true, Mr Thornton? Do you have no feelings for me?" she pressed.

He came abruptly out of himself, and sent her way a dark, unreadable look. "Is this still some game you're playing wi'me, Miss Hale? If you force a confession out of me that I spoke only in anger, you would take a delight in telling me once again that you wouldn't have me anyway?"

"No!" she cried, aggrieved. "You can not think I am so cruel as that."

He sighed. He sounded weary. "I don't know what I think now, Miss Hale, still less what you do. I really do not presume to know you any more." His puzzled eyes came up to meet hers.

"Is it because of Frederick?" Her hand flew up to her mouth, realising what she had done.

He said slowly, "Frederick is the name of the young man at Outwood Station?"

She nodded, fast, up and down. "But please, please don't say anything, Mr Thornton. Please never say his name. It is so important – a matter of life and death, quite literally, that you do not," now her eyes were pleading with him, big and soulful in her sweet face.

Her looks softened him, he could not help it. He was a fool where she was concerned, he knew it. Yet he had to know...

"May I be told at least what connection he has with you?" He added, "You must see the difference that would make to everything..."

"He is my brother," she said, defeated. "I will ask Father to tell you Frederick's story sometime, it is a sad and difficult one, and you will understand why I could not, did not want to tell you...but at least you know, no matter what... that I did not behave improperly, as you thought."

That did indeed change everything. He was looking at her pensively now, swiftly correcting memories, straightening thoughts into their proper patterns, sorting tangled wefts on a loom.

"When I said... I was not one of those women who would overlook a man's general character, and his unpleasingness – that was true. I certainly would not. But I know your character in a way I did not before, and I know you to be a decent, principled, kind man. Yes, kind. Also, Mr Thornton, I do not find you unpleasing. So you can see, I did not mean you at all, though I know you took it that way."

He glanced upwards without moving his head, navy pupils set momentarily in a white half-moon, then rolling back down to to her. "Your father will be wonderin' what this is about, Miss Hale."

"I'll explain to him afterwards." She added, "That I have told you a little about Frederick. Nothing more."

"Well, there is nothing more to tell."

"But there is more to say. Please don't leave now, Mr Thornton. You will only go off and brood, and I will have another sleepless night."

"A sleepless night."

She blushed abruptly. "For trying to puzzle out - my confusion."

Now he was alert – prickling all over with a sudden attention.

"Mr Thornton, I will be the brave one this time. I will tell you of my feelings, without knowing of yours. Just as you did ... And you can reply this way, or that way, but at this moment I have no idea which way you will turn. Just as you had no idea, when you made your proposal months ago, which way I would. That will balance our books, will it not?"

He seemed about to speak, but held himself back.

She took a moment to choose her words: "For some time now, Mr Thornton, I have realised I misunderstood you, that I was hasty to reject your proposal, and cruel in the way I did. Moreover, I realised I... like you as a person, and I - " she looked down, then up at him again, unblinkingly sincere – "- and I do find you pleasing. At least when you are not out of temper." And even then.

And still he did not speak, tho one long-fingered hand came up to pluck at the careful formation of his black cravat, a habit he had when he was unsure, or nervous.

"Well," she said, decisively, "I could not rest easy till I had told you of my change of feelings, and I am not sorry I have. I feel so much better that I have been honest with you, and about Frederick too, though I should not have spoken on that matter, but I trust you to speak of it to no-one."

She had lost, but she was going to do it gracefully. He had not agreed to be her friend, but they were no worse off. Maybe a little better.

"You may leave now, Mr Thornton, I will not call you back this time," and she gave him such a smile, so dazzling in sweetness his breath caught in his throat.

"Miss Hale... "

"Yes?" she moved a little step forward in her hope. He noticed.

"This has been a great deal to take in," he said slowly.

"I am so weary now," she confessed. "And I know that we spoke so harshly was my fault... but... I could not let you leave under the impression you had wrongly formed about me. I went the wrong way about it, I know."

" As I said, I am a simple working man. I don't play games, Miss Hale."

"I know you do not, and neither do I. I did not intend any such thing, however it may have looked. Our anger... and our misunderstanding... have much to answer for tonight."

"And you want us to be... friends." He looked at her, very imperious, his head high. Not giving much away.

"I would like that very much, yes," she said, and her smile was open, and warmly responsive.

"Well," he said slowly, and stopped, and began again, "You will forgive me, in the light of all that has.. passed between us, asking for some very positive assurance that your intentions are good. Regardless of what my feelings might be about you, I am not your plaything, Miss Hale." His gaze dwelt frowningly on her face.

Margaret's brave spirits sank a little. He did not trust her. She had hurt him before and he would not risk that again.

"It is not a game, Sir," she said quietly, head bowed over her folded hands. "Your opinion of me is low at present, I know."

Abruptly, he gave her a small, twisted smile. "You'd likely be surprised at my opinions of you, I suspect. May I visit you tomorrow? "

"Yes," she nodded eagerly, pleased and relieved. "I would like that, Mr Thornton."

Her father, making more noise than usual down the stairs, made a little tap at the door, and then the kindly, enquiring face of Richard Hale popped around it.

"I was just wondering if you were still here, John. Is everything all right?" he asked mildly

"Mr Thornton is just leaving, Papa."

Mr Hale could not help but notice that Margaret looked over-excited – perhaps even a little flushed around the cheeks? A certain suspicion started up.

His clever, sharp pupil, the John Thornton whose mind Richard Hale found complex and intriguing, did not look much different than usual, and it was with reserved composure he spoke,

"Mr Hale, would you allow me to call upon Margaret tomorrow?"

"If Margaret wishes it," he returned gently. "Do you wish it, my dear?"

Margaret looked down at her hands. She felt she was blushing. "Yes, I do wish it, Papa," and she smiled at her darling father, who had known just what to say.

"Come for tea, John!" Mr Hale said heartily. "If you can spare the time, that is. We know what a busy man you are."

"It would be a very good use of my time, Sir," said Mr Thornton shortly. He bowed a little bow to his teacher, then turned to make a deeper one to Miss Margaret Hale, who had astonished him tonight in every possible way.

-OO-

Author's notes:

This is a slow-burn story of romantic courtship. It is completed and has already been posted on AO3.

I thank in advance anyone who reads this and especially anyone who leaves a review or has done on my previous stories, you know who you are, lovely people. I wish I could reply but often there's no way to. So just know I treasure every one. Thank you.

It wouldn't be me :) without my usual plea to join our lovely N&S discussion forum, The Mill at Milton - link in my profile. Along with our AO3 writers, we do actually have some FF members now, hurrah! but we would love some more!