“Marry me,” he rasped in dead earnest, his hand still clasping hers.
Their eyes locked for a moment of sacred searching.
Then she tore herself away, turning to hide her confusion. Her face was aflame, and her heart pounded, for some part of her wanted to answer ‘yes’!
“You do not even know my name!” she exclaimed, reasoning away the impulse that alarmed her. The dream she had of him—had it been a sign from heaven?
“Will you not tell me?” he uttered with gentle persuasiveness. “I have longed to know it.”
His soft tone eased the tension in her stance, and she turned slowly, keeping her gaze lowered. “Margaret… Margaret Hale,” she answered, glancing up briefly to meet his gaze at this introduction.
“Margaret,” he repeated—almost whispered—in reverent wonder.
A shiver ran through her body at the caressing warmth of his voice. No one had ever spoken her name in that way.
She knew not what to say. A thousand different emotions chased through her mind and heart. The tone of his voice set her sensibilities in disarray—by the shock of seeing him once again—by the words he had spoken!
Mr. Thornton studied the down-turned blushing face. The wave of passionate impulse now passed, his trembling hope gave way to self-condemnation. How could he have done this?
“Forgive me. I…spoke too hastily. I will not ask for a reply. I only hope you will consider me…”
She blushed furiously as he stepped closer. “I know nothing about you!” she protested.
“Then we should become better acquainted,” came the calm entreaty.
His gentle, persuasive tone gave her the courage to look up into his face.
She could not explain the magnetic power that held them in silence for an infinite moment. His face drew nearer hers, and she offered no resistance.
A shuffling sound broke the trance. Margaret sprang back as the door swung open.
“Father!” she exclaimed shakily, a new blush spreading over her face.
“Mr. Hale,” Mr. Thornton began, trying to recover himself from the thrumming intensity of possibility of the moment before.
Mr. Hale glanced in bewilderment at the pair before him, endeavoring to decipher the meaning of the awkward tension between them.
Mr. Thornton stepped forward with a wry smile at the vicar’s confusion, and explained, “I believe your daughter and I have already met.”
Chapter nine
Margaret stared vacantly at the white table linen in front of her as her father read the menu card in the high-ceilinged dining room of the hotel. The room smelled of bread and some kind of savory broth. A twitter of laughter reached her ears from the far end of the room, where a trio of young travelers sat. It was incomprehensible to Margaret that there were people going on as if it were an ordinary day.
She could not speak. All she had known of life seemed overturned and discarded. Nothing could ever be the same again. The shock of what had just happened crashed over her anew, sending all her thoughts into disarray.
Her father had talked to Mr. Thornton for above a quarter hour while she had awkwardly stood apart by the window, pretending to take great interest in the view outside. All the while, her heart had pounded in trepidation that she might be called to speak, and that in doing so their eyes would meet.
Even now, her muscles were taut with the tension of strong surprise and the reverberation of a thousand conflicting emotions. Every word he had spoken echoed in her mind. Andthe manner in which he had spoken them—with such vehemence of feeling! The memory of it caused a trembling throughout.
“Mr. Thornton seems a very respectable fellow,” she heard her father say through the haze of her confusion.
“I believe I shall enjoy taking up the classics with him,” he continued. “Imagine you having met him before in London! He very probably travels there often enough. Mr. Bell says he’s very much admired here in Milton, and that members of Parliament dine at the Thornton’s house.”
She muttered a weak acknowledgment, grateful that her father’s mind was too zealous of his meeting with Mr. Thornton to take any account of her own reaction.
Mr. Thornton had been kind to her father. In fact, she had been surprised at how easily and naturally they had conversed. Papa had even invited him to dine with them here at the hotel! But, of course, papa had no inkling of what had transpired before he had entered the room. She was relieved when Mr. Thornton stated he had to return to his work.
What had happened in those few moments before her father had come, Margaret could scarcely believe. It was not possible. They had met only once before. And had not even known each other’s names!
