Roses and Lace
Chapter 22
It was a small party for the wedding breakfast. Family only, as neither Margaret nor John had any close friends in London, and the Shaws and Lennoxes had no high-ranking acquaintances who would be particularly impressed by the marriage of the young heiress to a Milton manufacturer.
Henry was there, seated near his brother and Edith. If not exactly pleased by the turn of events, he seemed to have resigned himself to the situation, and he evinced no sign of inner turmoil. He was perhaps more subdued than usual. He spoke politely to those around him and refrained from sending Margaret any meaningful looks or making any sarcastic comments. He even raised a simple and well-meaning toast to the couple's health and happiness, meeting both of their eyes, to which Margaret nodded her head in quiet thanks.
Aunt Shaw even seemed relaxed, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Watson. She looked equally astounded and amused by some of their more outlandish expressions and free ways of speaking. She was not above sending Margaret the occasional weighted glance, as if to say, "This is what you've gotten yourself into, my girl! Good luck to you!" But perhaps she was also relieved that Margaret was no longer a burden, however light, that she still had to carry. She had done right by her sister's daughter. Unconventional to be sure, but Margaret had made a decent enough marriage, and Mr. Bell's money ensured that she would be well taken care of. Margaret being such a willful girl, Beatrice Shaw was simply grateful that she had married at all.
Edith spent much of the breakfast glancing over at Margaret and John and smiling wistfully. There was no denying the quiet contentment and glow of happiness in Margaret's smile or the warmth in her eyes every time she looked at her new husband. And as for the husband, when he wasn't smiling or laughing at some of the jokes going around the table, he was just gazing at his bride in utter adoration. He looked like a man who had struggled under a dark cloud only to have all the blessings of heaven suddenly pour forth upon him. He looked as if he could hardly believe his good fortune. He looked like a man totally and completely in love.
Hannah Thornton herself could not help but reflect on the sense of pure joy that was radiating from her son, as well as the more modest but nonetheless undeniable happiness on the countenance of Margaret Hale - now Margaret Thornton.
From the way she looked at him - the way that Hannah could tell that their hands were clasped underneath the table - the way they looked and spoke and moved in tune with each other - Hannah knew that, at least in this moment, they were truly in love.
Her John was happy.
It was all she had ever wanted for him.
Hannah found herself wiping tears from her eyes, like a dottering old woman, but she couldn't help it. Fanny caught her eye and raised her eyebrows in sympathy, but Hannah only shook her head and frowned away her tears. She wouldn't make a spectacle of herself. Fanny scoffed at her in fond annoyance and looked away.
For Margaret, watching the faces around the table, she could almost imagine her mother and father seated there as well. Her mother would be weeping and worried but also happy for her. She would have been nervous all the way leading up to the wedding, and then she would spend the whole day remembering her own time as a bride. Her father probably would have wept as well, tears of joy - he already loved John Thornton like a son.
Even Fred - alive and safe, thank God, but ever absent - dashing and charming as always, he would have commandeered all the conversation at the table. He would have energized their father and comforted their mother. In the evening he probably would go out carousing with the captain. And to John he would have issued some stern warnings to protect his sister.
If only they could all be here...
Margaret felt sorrow and joy and comfort and love all mingling together inside her, wrapping around her heart like ribbons around a maypole.
She squeezed John's hand. She realized that she had never let go of it since they had sat down.
John looked at her with such love and such steady devotion in his eyes. She could lose herself in his gaze. She almost forgot to breathe.
Margaret felt at that moment that she already had everything she needed. She had family who cared for her, both here on earth and in the next life, and she had John Thornton to love and protect her as long as they both should live.