CHAPTER V

The Ball and It's Consequence

"All of us face hard choices in our lives...Life is about making such choices. Our choices and how we handle them shape the people we become. For leaders and nations, they can mean the difference between war and peace, poverty and prosperity." - Hillary Clinton, Hard Choices

Discipline, effort, and sacrifice were three words that exemplified John Thornton. Having lost his father under miserable circumstances at a tender age, he was very lucky to have a strong-willed mother of strong power and firm resolve who guided him, taught him self-denial, made his character strong and drove him to become the man he was today. A man who relied not on good luck, merit or talent but in the habits of life that taught him to despise indulgences not thoroughly earned. John Thornton was a remarkable man: respected, focused, honest, fair and feared.

As a young boy, he showed an interest in classic literature, but all that idle pursuit fell to the wayside when his father died. To carry on his father's legacy, John Thornton entered military school. As the war raged on, his mother's need for him grew greater, so he had to stop his schooling early and become a man quickly. He had to learn how to lead and train the Army to fight the shadow enemy. He had to devise defense tactics and strategies to counter and win the war. Luckily for him, the mantle of leadership fell easily on his young shoulders. He was a gifted general and strategist, much admired and valued for his plain and direct speech, excellent work ethic and warrior ethos.

He sacrificed everything to the fight, even his dragon, to have enough dragon-infused mage energy to cast the final spell that consigned the enemy into the deep. There was nothing he would not do to secure victory for his mother and Milton. After the war, he led the reconstruction and industrialization efforts to rebuild his war ravaged state and created the Sankin Kotai to codify the system of tithes, ranking, and visitations that controlled the other signatories of the North and South Accord and guaranteed a stable revenue stream for Milton.

The plan was inspired. With societal ranking tied to tithes payment, all the high lords and principal rulers became occupied in making enough income to meet the tithes level required to maintain their place in society. In addition, the primary signatories of the accord, the leading families of the other realms, had to make the journey to visit Milton every three years for a one year stay to affirm the Milton Overlordship and show their gratitude to the mages of Milton for their sacrifices during the war. The revenue these great families and their entourages brought was by no means unsubstantial. The balls and dinners in honor of the masters of Milton also helped maintain order, as the nobles were too consumed with outdoing each other to quarrel. The Sankin Kotai, indeed, preserved the peace and produced enough income to fund the recovery.

John Thornton was key to the rebuilding efforts, ensuring that every Miltonian did their part for the progress of Milton. Impressments were used to force hedges to work for the state in indentured servitude for 5 to 10-year terms and commoners were put to work as part of the factory workforce needed for the expanding industrialization. Everyone was paid as fair a wage as economic principles dictated, while still allowing industry to progress. John Thornton, an honest, fair, but demanding master, was not very happy about having to put the hedges "to the press" but it was a necessary choice. Too few of the hedges volunteered their services to the state freely, and there were too few mages remaining—the war had claimed almost all.

At least John Thornton ensured that there were term limits for hedge impressments. He also led the enactment of parliamentary rules regarding safe working conditions, and the fair pay of hedges and factory workers. He, too, made provisions for worker's housing accommodations, since most had to be removed to the cities where industries aggregated and where most help were required.

Some would say that John Thornton never slept; that he kept himself too busy in the affairs of the state. He was up each and every day well before dawn and was always the last to go to bed, long after the manor has been shut in for the evening. He was the General of the Armies, Chief Overseer of the Rebuilding Efforts, Chief Magistrate of Milton and Chief Executive Officer of Marlborough Mills Industries – the Crown-owned manufacturing conglomerate. As the right hand of his mother and one of only two advisers (the other being Lord Shaw), she trusted him implicitly and gave him ad hoc authority to make independent decisions as he saw fit. He lived a busy life, a hard life, full of toil, struggle and suffering. All the hard work, discipline, effort and sacrifice, he gave of himself willingly—pouring out all his energy to secure Milton's prosperity and maintain peace and stability. All his actions brought pride to the Thornton name, made his mother proud to call him her son and allowed his mother and sister to live in the comfort and prosperity their station required. There had never been time for love and no woman gave themselves that useless trouble, his life was too busy, nor had he ever found anyone that interested him. But that all changed the day he met Margaret Hale.

In recent days his mind had become clouded, as if by a fog. He found himself distressingly distracted. "What is wrong with me of late?" Disgusted, John Thornton continued his torturous thought. "Have I truly become so weak with lovesickness for a girl who detests me or, at best, does not even notice or look on me with any hint of interest? She must think me a terrible rough fellow—so lacking the grace of those elegant and refined gentlemen she is accustomed to in the South," John thought with exasperation as he performed his morning ablutions.

"Any woman in Milton would give an arm or a leg for even one smile from me, but this Ms. Hale, she is not like any woman I have ever met before. Remarkably handsome, yet she has not any vanity with regards to her looks. Proud and haughty, yet she would not hesitate to offer help and compassion to those in need—even factory workers who clearly should be below her concern—a true churchwoman. Kind, gentle and loving towards her family, yet has steel in her blood and is so spirited that she does not hesitate to offer her opinion or defend her actions. She always speaks so well, and reasons through her replies, as few ladies do. Her demeanor is regal, elegant, optimistic, confident. So cultured, smart, witty and dreadfully clever. A thoroughbred, for sure," John thought as he smiled longingly, looking at his ridiculously large hands, made tough from the war and his exertions. He could imagine cradling her hands in his; his calloused, rough hands dwarfing her perfectly delicate, graceful and tapered fingers.

With this agonizing thought, he shook his head in the mirror, looked upon the battle scars that lined his chest, arms and legs, and gave a resigned sigh. "What a fool I am. She can never care for someone so rough and unrefined. I am a war-scarred man—a great big fellow, sternly made. I can tell she is afraid of me and that in her eyes, I am not, nor will ever be, a true gentleman. She can't even look at me directly. If she does glance my way, her expression is always one of polite detachment. I doubt she even thinks of me at all. Yet she enters my mind as my first and last thought of each day. My thoughts return to her for no good reason throughout the day and she haunts me even in my dreams at night. Why must I obsess about what she could be doing at this time or that?" John scowled darkly, splashing water on his arms more violently than the occasion warranted. He rubbed soap on his skin, roughly in frustration, musing. "I have become so besotted that I have even taken to visiting Uncle Shaw's residence more often of late just for a chance meeting with her. I have been visiting there so much I have become friends with Lord Hale!"

Although he was happy to have made such a friend of someone so gentle, moral and incredibly intellectual, it made him feel guilty that he was perhaps taking advantage of the kindly, gentlemanly elder Hale as he was not there to befriend the father but to get a glimpse of the daughter.

Disgusted at his foolish actions, he lashed out at himself, "I am a grown man in the prime of my life! Why does this girl make me act like a foolish boy? Am I truly falling for such a proud and spirited girl?" He stared at his image gravely by his shaving mirror, considering this question. Shaking his head again, he thought with a fair amount of anger at himself. "Why not fall for a solid Milton girl? Not an aristocratic southern lass... Margaret Hale! You are a great beauty, but haughty in your own way. Who do you think you are to make me feel so small? You are not worthy of me. I am a high mage, you're a mere commoner. Yet you act like you are my queen and I am your vassal."

He breathed in, steadying himself. The rage was gone, and all he could feel was deep sorrow, ebbing from his heart to his fingers. With deep longing in his eyes, John Thornton was lost in his musing. "If only you would care for me...I would willingly become your vassal and love you as no man has ever loved a woman." As John Thornton nicked himself shaving, reality came upon him, after a short curse under his breath. "Steady now, John Thornton, you have faced tougher challenges than this. Why should this girl rattle you so? You are not one to lose yourself so easy, are you?"

As he healed his nicked chin, he thought back to the day they had met when he had healed her scratch and muttered, "Margaret, oh Margaret, if only I wasn't such a clumsy fool about you. You might bestow me a hint of affection. Why, if I be prove worthy of your love, I know I would walk in glorious daylight all the rest of my life."

Again, disgusted at himself for being made insecure by a mere girl, he dressed quickly, took his breakfast alone as he was accustomed and went to his study check his correspondence and audit the ledgers and business reports for Marlborough Mills Industries. By late-morning, as he was walking on the rear balcony of the manor on his way to the combatives room for his daily drills, he heard the sound of his sister's girlish laughter coming from the back garden. He stopped, turning round to see what was the source of her mirth. It was then he noticed that Fanny and Margaret Hale were in deep and animated conversation. They were so engrossed discussing their topics in hushed, giggling, almost scheming tones that they did not even notice his approach. After he cleared his throat, he said formally, "Good morning, Fanny. Good morning, Miss Hale. How good of you to visit us today. Lord Bell is with Mother I presume?" John Thornton knew that Margaret Hale rarely ventured out without any escort, and usually Lord Bell accompanied her. Well, sometimes it was that handsome and refined Fred Barbour. This thought filled him with unpleasant and unwelcome feelings, he could feel his heart and his demeanor grow cold.

Margaret and Fanny quickly closed the magazine they were discussing, stood up to bow and curtsy looking like repentant school girls caught doing something they should not; and gave John their how do you dos.

"How are you enjoying our late summer blooms, Miss Hale?" John inquired, gathering himself and pointing at the large planters of hydrangeas and azaleas. "Blooms, John? Seriously? How daft can you be? Is that the best you can do. Think man. Regale her with your wit. Stop scowling at her and looking so menacing. Soften up, man." John thought hard, trying to summon a smile, no matter how stiff, but nothing would come. As in their previous conversations, he only gave short and curt answers and never asked her another question. But still he could not bring himself to leave, though he had a very full day ahead of him.

Fanny impatient for her brother to leave, asked directly, "Shouldn't you be going, John? You must have so many things to do."

"No, not that much."

Fanny looked at him in disbelief and irritation at first. She studied her brother for a little while and looked at Margaret, an idea for mischief came to her. With a teasing smile, she said encouragingly, "Oh, that is good. Margaret was just telling me earlier how disappointed she was you would not be joining us for lunch. She must be ever so glad that you can come now. She so longs to talk to you." Margaret, currently in the middle of drinking her tea, nearly choked on her cup at Fanny's remarks, and could not stop from coughing.

John was instantly by Ms. Hale's side, putting her cup down, patting her back and squeezing her ungloved hand for comfort. Fanny's teasing look was replaced by a look of speculation, "Could it be that my brother has finally been caught? No, not the dull, boring and self-righteous John Thornton," as she thought of this, she quickly dismissed it as nothing but fancy on her part. "Why is not an engagement to Lady Anne Lattimer imminent as Minister Lattimer keep pressing? Mother is very much in support of that match between the two mage families. Surely, John will not throw away a good alliance. Unless, of course, he is in love... No, my brother has sovereign rule over his heart. But, still could he love Margaret Hale?"

The thought persisted with Fanny as she saw her brother's great look of concern for Margaret—who clearly looked mortified at the attention she was receiving from John. Feeling sorry for her friend, she came to her rescue, "Out of the way, John, you big oaf! You are making her coughing fit worse, she needs a woman's touch." Fanny cooed as she shooed her brother away and began to pat Margaret's hand and back gently. "There, there now. All is well. I think you might get your wish. I think John can be persuaded to have lunch with us, can you, John?" Fanny said with a glint of naughtiness in her eyes as Margaret looked back at her in great discomfiture.

John, uncertain what Fanny was scheming at, refused. "Pardon me, Fanny, Miss Hale, I have delayed long enough. I have many obligations today and cannot join you for lunch." Margaret's visible relief at his refusal irked him a little; he would have liked to stay a while longer enjoying her company, if she had just shown any interest. Nevertheless, he excused himself quickly with a curt nod to Ms. Hale, he said matter-of-factually, "I will see you this afternoon, when I visit Lord Shaw to discuss the soil project?"

"Of course, Sir, there has been great progress."

"Very good. Until later then. Good day, Fanny, Miss Hale," and with another curt nod, he was off to the combatives room where he proceeded to take the energy of his self-discontent out on the obstacle course and the dueling ring. There was thunder in his eyes as he cursed under his breath, "Blast that woman, for what she does to me. Oh, how she frustrates me! Margaret, my Margaret when will you see me?"

After the combatives room, John made a visit to one of the Army Brigades on the outskirts of the city. He then was on his way to Harley Street to consult with Lord Shaw, Milton's Minister of Science and Medicine, about the soil problem that had erupted in the ten cities. The soil had been tampered with magically, preventing the soil's hydration. The matter was discovered over a week ago and was being investigated by the magisterium, the mage governing body and high court, for possible abuse of mage powers. So far, the investigation had revealed no leads as to the identity of the mage who casted the dark spell, but they were all very lucky that a cure regiment was quickly discovered and implemented, due mostly to Margaret's diligence.

It still brought a smile to his face when he recalled that Monday morning, almost a week ago, when he discovered Margaret, in a white lab coat and safety goggles, busily distilling some kind of elixir from a series of test tubes, Bunsen burners and funiculars upon the workbench on the far end of Lord Shaw's private workroom. She was recording her findings in a small notebook and she was humming a very happy tune as she went about her work, clearly at home in the workroom.

He noticed her right away upon entry, but she did not notice him as her back was partially turned away from the door. He was about to walk over and announce himself to her when Lord Shaw entered and greeted John. John gave the reports regarding the soil findings to Lord Shaw who quickly glanced at the data and frowned, puzzled by the report, "this is very disturbing indeed. Why would a mage tamper with the planter soils?"

Margaret, hearing the conversation behind her, turned around, curtsied and bowed her head. As she made her excuses to leave them to their conversation, John Thornton was surprised when Lord Shaw invited Margaret to join them at his workroom office. Margaret took off her safety goggles and followed her Uncle. After exchanging some pleasantries with Lord Thornton, who remained taciturn, cold and aloof, they started discussing the soil problem.

"Margaret, look at this. It appears the Princeton District problem is not isolated but one that is affecting all of Milton."

"Are you certain, Lord Shaw?"

"Yes, look at these data of the soil samplings from the public parks throughout Milton."

"Hmm. How strange." Margaret then opened the small notebook she tucked into her lab pocket and started flipping through the pages. It was a sort of a sketchbook, or perhaps a science journal, where she drew and wrote her observations. John noticed from her sketches that she was a talented artist. Her drawings of various plants were colorful, so realistic that they seemed to leap out of the pages. "Why it could even rival any of the picture almanacs we have at the manor. Is there no end to your accomplishments, Miss Hale?" John thought in amazement of this rare and remarkable woman.

When Margaret flipped to the proper page in her journal book and compared the soil data she has written there and the soil data from the report, she furrowed her brows and in a contemplative tone, she said, "This is very strange, indeed."

John Thornton grew more silent as all his focus was given to observing Margaret as she talked about the issue confidently with Lord Shaw. His demeanor softened a little as he noticed her eyes shining in curiosity, her brow furrowing in contemplation, her full, very red lips pursing in concentration. Her smile gleamed with excitement at the puzzle before her. He was so lost in thought he did not hear Lord Shaw's question to him. What did his uncle say? He did not know, but from both their demeanors, they were awaiting a response from his. "That would be well, I believe," he replied.

At Margaret's, cry of triumph and joyful expression, he figured he answered correctly. So, that was how the cure regiment came to be, from Margaret's formulation of the elixir which Milton implemented almost a week ago. Margaret demonstrated some of her grandfather's negotiating skills—in addition to her parents' gentleness—as she used her feminine softness and keen mind to extract further concessions from him. She coerced him to let her lead the treatment regiment in the Princeton district and even negotiated for the state to pay travel expenses and wages for two working girls at the Princeton district helping her administer the cure in the central city. This would all be done under the supervision of Lord Shaw, Minister of Science and Medicine.

That was almost a week ago. This afternoon, he met with Lord Shaw and Margaret at Lord Shaw's workroom office, to receive a progress report. He could hear the triumph in Margaret's voice as she talked about the success of the treatment. "Oh, how melodious and even toned her voice always sounds. How regal her lips look, they barely move as she speaks, how brilliant her smile. How I would love to kiss those rosy, dimpled cheeks, the long alabaster neck, the red luscious lips, run my fingers through the tresses of your thick raven hair..."

Margaret's waving her hand in front of him, broke his reverie. "Will it please you, Sir?" she asked, as she bit her lower lip awaiting his approval.

"Oh, yes, immensely." He didn't know what she asked him but he was very pleased by her response.

"I knew it would! I know you are not the overbearing master people make you out to be. It would be good for the Princeton district to have something to celebrate. Thank you so very much." she flashed him a dazzling smile before excusing herself as she was to take tea with her mother and aunt.

When she left, Lord Shaw looked pensively at John Thornton, concern clearly in his eyes, "I see that you have found the chosen one, she agreed to help Milton I presume as the ring changed color, and still glows softly in her presence." Lord Shaw's pointed look, clearly referred to Margaret. "She gave her blood willingly to complete her pledge for Milton?"

"Well, not exactly..."

"Not exactly? Whatever do you mean, I distinctly instructed that the one the ring chooses must give of themselves voluntarily for the good of Milton?"

"What does it matter, I have found her, though I don't know how she would save Milton."

"So, you bound her to the ring without her consent? Or knowledge?"

"I bind her to nothing. She is not my possession. I would never wish to possess her."

"Because you love her?"

"Because I love...what did you say? Don't be ridiculous, Uncle Shaw, she can never care for me," John said with such an earnest look in his eyes, that it made Lord Shaw laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous, John. You care for the girl. It is clearly evident in your face to any keen observer. You have as good a chance any other. You better move quickly. She is a reckoned prize and about to be a more valuable bride."

"A reckoned prize? The first daughter, of a middle income agricultural state? For a normal mage maybe not a high mage, not a prince of Milton."

"John, well, I never... Your mother did not tell you? I suppose you will find out soon enough when the magisterium certify Adam's will." At John's look of confusion, Lord Shaw took pity on his nephew, "Why do you think Adam has been visiting Hannah so frequently lately, and in private?"

"I thought they had state matters to discuss."

"State matters? When has Adam visited Hannah for state matters when a perfectly written letter would do? No, his visits are very personal in nature."

"Well, then out with it, uncle. Why has Lord Bell been visiting Mother?"

"You will keep this in strict confidence then?...The matter has not yet been finalized."

"Of course."

"Margaret is about to be a great heiress. As the sole heir of Adam Bell, she will be mistress of the Crampton Crescent Keep and the entailed Bell Estate, along with sole ownership of several lucrative properties throughout Milton and Oxford."

"Mother approved this?" John sputtered.

"When has Adam Bell ever failed to close a deal? It is as sure as done. If you care for the girl, I advise you to press your claim quickly, before the fortune hunting hordes come a calling."

"And how am I exactly, to "press" my claim as you say, Uncle?"

"Well, the direct and honest route is always good. Don't be too aggressive or you will frighten the girl. Take your cue from her and let her behavior guide you." Lord Shaw walked up to John and casted a protective spell on the ring to prevent it from glowing, "The ring should help. With the Thornton Ball coming soon, let me cast a spell to hide this glow, we don't want the ring to call attention do we?"

"I thought the ring was just to help find the savior of Milton? Is it doing something to Margaret? I don't even know why I still wear this ring. It has done its job; it has found her. You can have it back."

John began to remove the ring as Lord Shaw grasped John's hand violently. "No! You must keep wearing the ring, until the one it chose fully empties herself for the sake of Milton," Lord Shaw said firmly, preventing John from removing the ring.

"More cryptic instructions? Whatever can you mean? When will I know when she has chosen to fully empty herself for the sake of Milton? Whatever that means.." John asked, his voiced tainted with exasperation.

"Trust me, John. On that day, the ring will turn red. You know then that, that is the day she is ready and willing to redeem—nay, more than redeem—all that Milton lost."

"But, how? How will she redeem Milton?"

With a laugh, Lord Shaw replied, "John, I am not a seer. I am a scientist and a doctor. The ways of destiny will unfold as they may. I am glad she has you to protect her and keep her safe."

"Miss Hale can fend for herself quite well enough. She is no shrinking violet."

"That maybe, John. But she is just a girl, still. She will need your strength to lean on."
"She will never choose me." John's voice was hard and bitter. He had closed his eyes, trying to hide the pain from his uncle. This truth cut him deeper than any could ever know.

"You might be surprised. Margaret is warming up to Milton ways. She has made friends with the working classes and even with your sister. I know she thinks you are a remarkable man, albeit cold and lacking in humanity." Lord Shaw replied with a laugh, as he rubbed the perfectly circular emerald ring.

"What can Uncle Shaw mean?" John thought as he too looked at the ring. It had been almost a week since he spoke to his Uncle. But, now in the silence of his room, as he was getting ready for the Thornton Ball that night, he thought about his last conversation with his uncle. "He is getting more and more cryptic as he ages. But, he is no fool." John acknowledged as he tried to tie his cravat for the fifth time and failed again. "Bloody things, why can't I tie it straight?" He wanted to look his best; he knew Margaret would be there.

At the firm knock on his door and his curt reply of entry, his mother walked into his apartment. "Having a problem with your cravat again, John?" Hannah asked as she walked towards him, "let me help you."

"Thank you, Mother." His Mother looked at her son with love. He was strongly made, of the noblest and stoutest of heart, the finest man she had ever known. She might be his mother, but she was not blind. "I know what John is, Milton is truly blessed to have such a native son to care for her and her people," Hannah thought to herself with great pride. As she looked around his apartment, she noticed several evening suits laying about, in a teasing voice, she asked her son, "Having a problem deciding what to wear, John? Perhaps you have heard that Minister Lattimer's daughter is going to be here and you would like to look extra special?"

"Who?"

"Anne Lattimer, you know, one of Fanny's friends. She is coming out this year."

"Oh, yes, Anne Lattimer. I'll be sure to ask her for a dance, Mother."

"See that you do. We do not want to slight the Lattimers. They are an important family in Milton."

"Of course, Mother."

"There," she smoothed the cravat, dusting specks of lint from his collar, "perfectly straight and even. I'll see you below, then." John nodded at his Mother and kissed her on the cheek. With a pat on her son's chin, Hannah left his apartment.

The reception room was already half-full with guests when John walked downstairs. His expression was stern as always. He commanded the attention of everyone there and, in return, all the guests received from him a cordial and cheerful greeting. When he neared the Hales and Lord Bell, he inquired how Lady Hale was feeling, for he heard of her low spirits of late from Lord Hale. While Lady Hale thanked him for his interest and gave him an optimistic, hopeful account of her health, he looked over to Margaret, to understand how far she agreed with her mother. 'He saw no dissenting shadow crossed her face. And as he looked with this intention, he was struck anew with her great beauty. He had never seen her in such a dress before, and yet now it appeared as if such elegance of attire was so befitting her noble figure and lofty serenity of countenance, that she ought to go always thus appareled. She was talking to Fanny, about what, he could not hear, but he saw his sister's restless way of constantly arranging some part of her gown, her wandering eyes, now glancing here, now there, but without any purpose in her observation; and he contrasted them uneasily with the large soft eyes that looked forth steadily at one object, as if from out of their light beamed some gentle influence of repose: the curving lines of the red lips, just parted in the interest of listening to what her companion said – head a little bent forwards, so as to make a long sweeping line from the summit, where the light caught on the glossy raven hair, to the smooth ivory tip of the shoulder; the round white arms, and taper hands, laid lightly across each other, but perfectly motionless in their pretty attitude. John Thornton, sighed as he took in all this with one of his sudden comprehensive glances. And, then he turned his back to the young ladies, and threw himself; with a great effort, into conversation with' the Hales and Lord Bell.

He never looked at her or went near, but he knew what she was doing or not doing better than he knew the movements of anyone else in the room. Margaret was as always so unconscious of herself, and so much amused by watching other people and listening to the animated and frank conversations going on around her, 'that she never thought whether she was left unnoticed or not.'

After a delicious meal, Margaret was escorted by her brother, Fred, to the ballroom. It was there that Lord Thornton saw Margaret standing in a corner of the room, behind her grandfather and the Hales. Lord Thornton did notice that she only danced—quite gracefully—with her father, grandfather, brother and Lord Shaw thus far. All others that even approached her would get such a scowl from Lord Bell that they walked away without asking her for a dance. John Thornton was walking towards the Hales to talk to them. When he glanced over, he saw his Uncle, mouth the words, "Love favors the brave. Ask her to dance. Time for the charge." John gave a silent laugh, as he thought, "well, I think, I would. What harm can one dance cause?"

How very wrong he was. As he danced with Ms. Hale, every second that passed he felt himself drowning in her soft luminous eyes. He was standing so close to her that he was engulfed by her sweet scent of lavender and rose water, his heart beating so loudly that he feared it might jump out of his chest. And her lips, parted just so as if giving him an open invitation to taste their sweetness, and before he knew it, as the last notes of the dance played, he found himself leaning down to accept the invitation. "Love favors the brave!" with this thought, he kissed her softly. But then, after her tentative response, more deeply as he felt her continue to respond to his kiss. "She is kissing me back!" John thought in amazement.

So lost were they in each other that they did not notice that the whole ballroom had gone completely silent. John reluctantly stopped kissing Margaret, looked deeply into her eyes and lovingly implored her, "Walk with me." Margaret, her look unfocused and abstracted, seemed at a loss for words and could not look away from the intense pull of his earnestness. As she could not speak, Margaret only nodded her consent and left the ballroom, her hand firmly placed in John Thornton's arm. John very gently covered her hand with his other hand and never took his eyes off her, nor she him, unwilling to break the magical moment, as they passed through the ballroom balcony doors to the back garden.

Lord Bell would have followed his granddaughter, but was detained by his daughter Mariah, who aghast at Margaret's indiscreet behavior, fell into a dead faint.

The next day, the tittle-tattle of Milton was abuzz with what had happened at the ball that previous evening and the rumored engagement.

The women, jealous of Ms. Hale, called her disreputable names and accused her of hunting for a mage husband, claiming that she must have from the beginning been calculatingly, setting her sights on Lord John Thornton, fully aware of the advantages such an attachment would bring. The men congratulated John Thornton for securing such a beautiful and delightful young lady so quickly. She was a commoner, and beneath his station, but she carried herself like a queen and she was as elegant and as tall as any lady mage, and she was a great heiress to boot. My, the two of them now owned over half of Milton. Both men and women of Milton thought that the bold, brave and honorable John Thornton was a lucky man indeed to have secured in his possession such a reckoned prize. They would have preferred he chose a Milton girl, but they figured, the granddaughter of a very respectable Milton High Mage was close enough. All toasted John Thornton, but most women hated Margaret Hale. Most especially, one Miss Anne Lattimer, who truly felt slighted by what happened at the Thornton Ball, John Thornton was supposed to marry her. She was supposed to be his first wife, his legal wife. How dare this Margaret Hale steal John Thornton. Anne Lattimer laughed bitterly as she thought cruelly, "you'll pay for this, Margaret Hale. Mark my words, you will regret the day you even laid eyes on John Thornton. You will pay!"

A/N: All the words I copied straight from the book are marked with '..'. There are just some words that could only be best expressed by Mrs. Gaskell herself, brilliant writer that she was. Thanks to onceandfuturefangirl for polishing this chapter, so that it might shine brighter. :)