An already tipsy George Leonards slipped in the servant's entrance and looked around for his fiancé. Unfortunately for him, however, Jane was quite busy running back and forth with trays of food for the wedding breakfast. He stumbled slightly as he walked through the kitchen nearly knocking over some of the maids as they carried more trays to the dining room. He fell into a chair at a small table in the corner, out of the way. Jane noticed him on one of her passes through the kitchen. She gave him a quick kiss and pointed out to him where he might find some victuals and promised she would be less busy in about a quarter of an hour when all the food had been brought upstairs.
When the activity in the kitchen finally calmed down Jane went and sat next to George.
"I think I can take a break for a few minutes," she said, "Did you get something to eat, love?"
"Yes, it was all very good. Is there anything to drink?" he asked, looking around.
Jane immediately jumped up to get her fiancé a glass of punch.
He thanked her and gave her a pat on the bottom. Jane was then called away for another job but came back shortly.
She complained, "We are a little shorthanded. Thomas, the second footmen fell ill yesterday and is still abed today."
He thought about this for a minute. Yes, this might help him with his plan. He asked her, "Do you have livery that might fit me? I could fill in."
Leonards had quite a few more helpings of the generously spiked punch by the time Jane came back with the livery. He dressed quickly, downed another glass, and went to take up duties in the dining room.
….oOo….
John and Margaret wore plastered smiles while they suffered through the tedious task of socializing with all of their guests. Their smiles sparkled into genuine enjoyment whenever they caught each other's eye across the crowded room. John decided that he had had enough of this supercilious chin wagging and made his way toward his bride.
He sidled up next to her and whispered in her ear, "There is nothing to detain me longer at this insipid party. And could I carry my selfish point with you, we should leave it without a single regret. Can you, in short, be prevailed on to quit this scene of public triumph and oblige me with your company in my study?"
Margaret laughed, let out a sigh and gave him a loving smile, "Definitely," she said.
"Find a reason to excuse yourself and meet me there," he instructed her, "I'll be along shortly after you."
Margaret made her way slowly through the guests and finally escaped down the hallway to the study.
John appeared within a few minutes. He took her by the hand and went to the couch. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. She squealed in surprise. With one hand securely around her waist, he cupped her cheek with his other hand and drew her to him placing light kisses all over her face. She sighed and melted in his arms. Running her own arms around his neck she sank her fingers into his hair. When John's ministrations reached her lips he kissed her deeply.
After some time she gently pushed him away and said, "John, we need to get back to our guests."
He ignored her and continued kissing and nipping down her neck. All these sensations were beginning to drive Margaret mad and she said, "Okay, forget that. When can we leave?"
John lifted his head up and looked in her eyes. Breathing heavy himself, he asked, "You want to leave now?"
She took the opportunity to start kissing his face and whispered breathily in his ear, "Yes."
Then she pulled back and looked at him questioningly, "Where are you taking me?"
"Ah," he said, "That is a secret."
She resumed peppering his face with kisses as he said, "I'll go change my clothes and meet you back in the drawing room shortly."
They shared a few more minutes of delicious silence before leaving the room. John went first to go upstairs and Margaret came out a few minutes later after making herself presentable once again.
….oOo….
As Margaret walked back down the hall toward the drawing room, a footman staggered toward her. He looked strangely familiar but she figured she must have seen him here on some previous occasion. She feared, by the way he was walking, that he had been dipping too much into the servant's punch bowl. However, instead of stepping aside to let her pass he moved to intercept her.
Stopping right in her path, he addressed her sarcastically and with the slurred speech of someone in his cups, "Miss Hale! who would ha' thought of seeing you here?"
Margaret gasped and her eyes widened. At first she was simply shocked at the impertinence of this servant. However, his familiarity and the sound of his voice recalled her to a young scamp from her childhood – George Leonards, the draper's son, who had plagued his father and eventually gone to sea on the same ship as Frederick!
He went on, "But I mistake, you're Miss Hale no longer. You're Mrs. Thornton now, the magistrate's wife, aren't you." He placed emphasis on the word 'magistrate' as if to remind Margaret of her husband's position and where his loyalties lay.
Collecting herself and assuming her decorous and noble manner of bearing, she replied, "How dare you address me in that way."
But Leonards, ignoring her, held his ground and kept smiling in her face. He sneered, "Where's that renegade brother of yours? That was quite a scrape he'd got into. What a disgrace he's been to his family. Did he show up for the wedding? Thought I spied him here t' other day – little darker skinned and with a funny accent, though."
Margaret's shock betrayed her. Again she tried to move past him but he wouldn't allow it. With the straight, fearless, dignified presence habitual to her, she insisted, "Step out of my way and get back downstairs before you embarrass yourself and your employer with your drunken state."
Leonards grabbed her arm with a firm grip and, stepping closer to her, said, "Where you been hidin', young Mr. Hale? Huh?"
Margaret's lips were pressed tight and her eyes flashed with anger. She tried to break from his grasp.
He squeezed tighter and went on in an indignant whisper, "I'll find him, mark my words, and I'll collect that reward."
"Unhand me!" Margaret yelled, tears now coming to her eyes.
Just then John was descending the stairs and heard his wife's distress. He stormed down the hall, spun Leonards around with one hand and punched him in the face with the other. The combined momentum of the man's rotation and the master's iron fist was enough to lay Leonards out cold on the floor. John enfolded Margaret in his arms and kissed the top of her head comforting her as she burst into tears.
Having heard the commotion, Ernulphus Watson stepped out of the drawing room and came towards them.
"What's all this?" he asked, eyeing the man on the floor, "A servant of yours?"
"No," John replied, "I know him not. He is an imposter and he assaulted my wife. Watson, can you keep an eye on him? Inform my mother and have her send for a constable. And try to keep it quiet. We don't want to disturb the party."
"Sure, Thornton," his fellow mill master replied, anything to help the man he hoped one day to call his brother-in-law.
"Thank you," John replied, "I need to tend to my wife. Let me know when the inspector gets here."
Then John took Margaret back into his study.
….oOo….
A/N: There my muse goes again. This time I borrowed a line from Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey. Can you identify it?