They would tell her aunt that morning. Mr Thornton would visit them in a few hours, and they would announce it together. It had been just two days since what they now regarded as their becoming each other's, and Margaret had only seen Mr Thornton in company of other people, at a dinner the previous night. It was torture, for two souls already so intimate, to not be able to express their love and admiration for the whole world to see. She had managed to catch him for a few delightful minutes in the library, before the party took their leave, at a moment when the others were occupied elsewhere. He was leaning on the windowsill, looking out to the street, his mind racing about how to get Margaret alone for a few minutes. Taken out of his stupor, he felt two graceful arms embracing him from behind, and smiled one of his widest smiles as Margaret proved him right. She would be a tender wife, on top of a passionate, lively one. One that would not let her attitudes be dictated by society's idea of what is proper.
At the breakfast table, Margaret blushed thinking back to her recent boldness. She had missed his company terribly, and was not ashamed to admit that now that they were engaged, she could not see any reason to not spend all of her time near him. As she had wrapped herself around his back, he had grabbed both of her hands into his, and placed them flat on his stomach. She could not remember having ever felt so peaceful. "Dear, sweet Margaret!" he whispered. She relinquished him, and stepped in front of him. She looked up to his compelling eyes, so soft that day. "Tomorrow?" she asked, "I have missed you so, and cannot bear to wait too long. We could announce it to my aunt before luncheon." He raised his hand to slowly graze her cheek, moving down to her neck and touching a curl of hair there. "Most certainly. I only wish we did not have to wait so long, and be separated until the wedding." They had then talked swiftly about when they could reasonably expect to be married, at the earliest. It seemed a month would have to pass, after which she would arrive in Milton. Her staying at his house, even under the chaperonage of his mother, could not be proper for more than a few days.
They had merely sat down in the morning room that a servant announced a visitor. Mr Thornton entered, and Margaret's aunt turned to her in surprise. What could possibly explain his early visit? Margaret merely smiled, greeted him, and gestured for him to take a chair. "Aunt, said Margaret, Mr Thornton is visiting us, for we have an announcement to make. There is no one for him to ask my hand to, but myself, and I gave it to him whole-heartedly." The shock in her aunt's face was most visible for a few second, but her many decades in London society had taught her well, and she politely retreated to an expression of moderate-enough delight. She congratulated them both, and declared, as Margaret's only living family, that she would host a dinner the next day to properly announce it to their relations. The rest of the morning was spent discussing wedding plans. Mr. Thornton took his leave then, allowing himself, now that theirs was a public attachment, to press her hands upon his departure. His eyes told her he would rather have kissed her lips. His eyes assured her – a shiver went down Margaret's spine – that he would make up for it at their earliest convenience.
"Margaret, I can hardly hide my shock. You and this man! When did this come about?"
"Dear aunt, I know you disapprove of him and of his ways, but my decision is taken, and I wish to be married as soon as possible."
"You will go back to Milton, and make it your home forever? Oh, Margaret, when you could easily find a dozen suitors here in London…In fact, I cannot remain silent. You do realize Mr Thornton is presently penniless, and your marriage would make him rich again. How can you be so blind? He obviously means to start his mill again with your money."
"He most certainly does, since that was my offer to him."
"Your offer? Do you mean to tell me that you proposed to him? Made him obliged to you so that he would marry you? What could possibly motivate your actions?"
"Far from it, aunt. You see, I will be the first to admit to not always have cared for Mr Thornton. He was as cold and rough as I could ever imagine, and we disagreed on every single matter. He proposed to me, months ago, when mama and papa were still with us, and I refused him. Quite vehemently, if I may add."
"And you changed your mind? Did he propose to you again?"
"He did not, and I cannot quite explain my change of heart. All I can say is, I did not know him as well as I do now. I misjudged him, and had all kind of prejudices. He has proven to me repeatedly that he is more of a gentleman than any man I have known before. To be quite honest, I do not know when I realized it, but there were moments of jealousy, and then there was the fact that I missed him when I left Milton. I do not know if he would ever summon the courage to profess his attachment again, given how bitterly I had refused him. So when I learned of his troubles, I made plans to offer my financial support. I hoped he would understand my motives, and I am so terribly happy that he did."
It was quite a long conversation to be having with her aunt, and yet Margaret owed it to her, as her last remaining close relative, as the woman who had raised her. She knew her to be conceited, she also knew her to be a good judge of character. The prejudice for her dislike of Mr Thornton, she could hardly do anything against. On the personal level, she hoped to appeal to her attachment to her, and that her aunt would see the reasons for her decision. "Well, Margaret, that is quite a story. I dare say someone who could persist so long in loving my dear niece, after having been rejected thus, can only be honored and respected for it. I will gladly welcome him in the family. But let us not waste any more time: we have your trousseau to take care of!"
The dinner was to be the last time they saw each other in what would surely feel like too long, so they were intent on enjoying it. That morning, she had received a letter from him.
"Dearest Margaret,
I so look forward to seeing you tonight, even though it is now official that I will have to leave for Milton the next morning. I shall miss you terribly, in case I do not get the chance to properly express that to you tonight. How long this month will be! Although it could never be as long as the previous months that I did not see you, during which I thought I would never have the chance to see you again, nevermind hold you, kiss you, and claim you as my own. I, on the other hand, am already yours. Love,
John"
When he appeared in their sitting room that night, he was a different Mr Thornton to everybody else. He was carefree and warm, and smiled quite often. Aunt Shaw could not quite believe such a transformation. Since they were now publicly engaged, they were freer to talk to one another, and he had to do himself violence to leave her side enough times to be respectable. As a guest started playing the piano, and the whole room paid attention, he sat down next to her again, as she was isolated on a chaise longue in the back of the room, and took her hand in his own. He leaned down and whispered "Margaret, it seems we won't get a single minute alone this evening." His voice, and the special intonation it took when he was speaking to her only, reached deep into her stomach, and made everything warm. A blush came to her neck, which he swiftly touched, after checking that their fellow guests were still occupied by the music. "I brought you something." With his other hand, he dipped into his chest pocket, and, softly, dropped it into her hand. She looked down, and saw a ring, simple, and warm, from having been held so close to his body for this time. "Thank you, John." "I am John, now, then?", he chuckled lightly. She still held the ring in her hand. He picked it up, looked around to check that they were not observed, and he placed it slowly on her finger. He leaned closer once more, one last time, his lips less than an inch from her throat, "Never forget how I love you, Margaret." He closed the gap for a single second, and kissed her there. "This, my love, is only the beginning."
