AN: More I say!
"Open them," John held Margaret's hand in the landing of a beautiful foyer, the chandelier glittering in the afternoon light.
Margaret gasped and stared with wonder at the beautiful, already furnished home. Without pausing, she threw her arms around her fiance and kissed him from his mouth to his nose.
"Oh John, it is perfect!" She announced, breaking away to dash up the stairs into the hallway where she found four rooms, all closed with lacquered wooden doors. Opening the first one, she saw that it was a library, already partially stocked, and a writing room connected through a clever false-wall, leading to the next room. Eager to explore, she dragged John through the portal, and came up into fresh journals and a well stocked stationary, set out neatly on the desk by the high vaulted window. She squeezed John's hand when she saw the pot of yellow roses by the window box and continued on her journey like a child, feeling so strange but happy now that her fiance was once again with her.
She exited the room by one door, and came upon one of the last in the hall. Opening it she saw that is was a beautiful, elegant bedroom with a massive four poster bed against the corner by yet another window. The room was furnished in light blue paper and wooden panelling, and the decor matched the concept. The sheets were patterned in the dutch style, and upon the bedside tables the oil lamps were made of delft blue pottery.
Margaret knew that she had essentially paid for the house, but was sure by some objects in the bedroom she was not the sole beneficiary. Items from their wedding packet, arrived early, stood against their surroundings like welcome visitors, comfortable, but not completely fitting in with the general mood of the room. Margaret decided she liked the oddball style, and resolved to keep their room that way. Their room. The words sounded terrifying and really, but she would not allow herself to think of her conversation with Fanny. Her husband was a different matter. John loved her, and so would not hurt her. Or...?
To stifle the onslaught of doubt, she turned to John and kissed him with as much happiness she could muster. She felt him smile against her lips, and broke away to rest her head on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of him; his aftershave, the smell of the mills, and most of all, the familiar mint scent she had come to associate with him.
"I love you," she murmured into his lapels.
"I love you too," he hugged her tighter to his body and ran his hands through her hair.
She could not believe her luck, and recalled a long-gone conversation with Bessy, years before when they spoke about the mysterious Mr Thornton.
"Well," John said, breaking the companionable silence, "I think we should be going back. They'll wonder where we are."
Margaret blushed, not sure why, and they left their new home, full of the dreams that it had inspired.
They walked through the street, arm-in-arm, and when they arrived back at the old Thornton place, they went their separate ways, and did not meet again until supper when they were informed they were to be having visitors.
Margaret had to restrain her delight when she heard who they would be, and narrowly avoided missing her dinner again once her emotions took the place of food in her belly. They were sitting at the table at the beginning of the meal when Mrs Thornton made her declaration.
Her cousin, Edith, would be coming with her husband for the wedding, though the baby would stay at home with a governess for the time. News of their coming had only just reached Milton, and Mrs Thornton, being home whilst her son's fiancee was not, took it upon herself to read the letter and relay its contents to Margaret, an offence that was overlooked for the sole purpose that the letter contained nothing personal inside, and that the letter was addressed to the Thornton Hale family.
"I want this all done properly," Mrs Thornton declared at the end, "no nonsense. I trust you will have a public ceremony," she glanced sidelong at her son, "and that all affairs shall be settled before the honeymoon."
John nodded, still somewhat under his mothers impressive thrall, and looked to Margaret, the woman who had gained the power to trump even his lady-mother's strong opinions.
"Not to worry," Margaret replied companionably, "Fanny has been a great comfort to me, and is helping to ensure all is well. As for Mr Thornton," she said 'Mr Thornton' as a formality to please the older lady, "I am sure the mill shall survive whilst we are gone. We have good men in our employ, I have seen to that."
"Have you?" Mrs Thornton replied in her ironic norther drawl, "well. Once you are married you will not have to worry about such things. I am sure my son will do the rest."
"Yes," Margaret replied in a measured voice, "but you forget, Mrs Thornton, that the mill is as much mine as it is Mr Thornton's. I have equal weight, so am of equal guilt should something happen to the workers or the buildings. I believe husband and wife should be able to ally themselves in something additional to marriage to strengthen their relationship."
"Well, you always did have a mind of yer own," Mrs Thornton's accent slipped a little, "but is suppose it is just as well. John couldn't listen to me, so perhaps he will you."
"Mother," John looked over calmly, "I listened to you."
"Oh posh," the Lady gave him a sarcastic smile, "you never did and you know it." John gave a defeated chuckle and leaned back into his chair, hands laced on his lap.
"At any rate, Nicholas Higgins will take care of the mill while we are away," John said, eyes half-closed.
"You mean he will manage the production?" Mrs Thornton looked horrified, "but John dear, he was one of the rioters! He started that mess we had in the winter last!"
"He is a fine man," her son replied doggedly, "and with the position I have increased his wages. It is good for the workers to know that there is a possibility for advancement in their current places. It makes them respectful and hard-working. Besides, Nicholas is a kind man, at heart, and he will use his mind for good this time, I am sure of it."
Margaret, who did not know about Nicholas's sudden promotion looked at her fiance with a bubble of pride. He had given the responsibility to a man who truly needed the money, and who was loyal to the family, not only from John's late sign of kindness but also Margaret's friendship with Bessy.
"I think that is a fine idea," Margaret gave her husband an approving smile.
The older Mrs Thornton, seeing that she was outnumbered, huffed and placed her napkin on the table with a soft thump.
"You two, I swear you will be the death of me." But there was a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips when she said it, and once their meal had arrived, was thoroughly pleased with herself, and only a little sorry John would be away for the month after his wedding. She even felt a pang for Margaret, who had become her grudging equal, and who had also succeeded in taking a little piece of her son's heart.
After dinner Margaret went to the parlor, where she began reading again, the sky turned purple out the high windows. She did not yet wish to retire, and as her obligations had been fulfilled, she was content to curl up like a cat and lose herself in her book.
She noticed John come in, but barely lifted her eyes from the pages. She was moved slightly when he sat down beside her, her father's old Plato novel in his hand, but neither spoke as they sat in silence, absorbed by their own worlds spinning restlessly in their heads.
"I hadn't thought about our honeymoon," Margaret said at last, losing interest in her story.
"Hm? Oh," John glanced up, "yes."
"Where are we going?" She pressed, sure that, like the house, he knew, but wished to keep it from her.
"I thought about Italy," John looked at her with a level expression, "but then I decided we should go to Spain."
Margaret dropped her book in shock and for the second time that day threw her arms unceremoniously around her betrothed.
"Truly?" she asked breathlessly, sure he had been speaking to Nicholas.
"Yes, my love, truly," he replied with a kiss on her nose. "Yes."
AN: so I'm having fun with this. If you are too, drop me a line or just keep on reading!