“No…no, I will go,” she murmured despite the sudden humming in her ears, and a pattering heartbeat. “Thank you, Dixon.”
Dixon frowned her disapproval, but dutifully retreated and closed the door.
Margaret gripped the back of her writing chair for support. How could she face him again—so soon? She felt a rush of shame at the memory of how she had held on to him so tightly—in front of all those people, too! She had tried to brush away the trail of thoughts that led to the consequences of that public act.
She stood erect, straightening her back, drawing the courage to face him. There was nothing to be ashamed of in what she had done. She had been terribly frightened—surely everyone would comprehend that.
At any rate, she refused to let society dictate her future.
Despite her strengthening will, her legs trembled as she took the stairs down to meet him.
Mr. Thornton could not stay still. He walked from one end of the room to another as he waited for her to arrive. So absorbed was he in his visions of happiness that he didn’t hear Margaret enter the room. He stopped mid-stride to notice her.
She appeared all softness and delicate beauty in the shadowy glow of the lantern that Dixon had lit in the darkening room. He ached to reach out and take her into his arms—to comfort her from any lingering distress.
“Are you well? You were hurt,” he said, deep concern etched into his contracted brow as he crossed the room to see for himself.
“Only a little. I am recovered,” she said with a meager smile, averting her eyes. She quivered within at his approach.
He did not like how easily she dismissed her own care. “You were badly hurt. You should have stayed where you were, as you were told,” he said firmly.
“And am I a child that must do as I am told?” she returned, the spark of resistance flaring up in her, making her square her shoulders. “Is this how you would treat a wife?” she accused him, her chin jutting into the air.
“I have no wish to control my wife as a child. But it will be my duty to take any means to protect her!” he answered in rising vehemence, agog to be arguing with her once again.
He shut his eyes and bowed his head for a moment.
“I did not come to argue,” he began, his voice low and deliberate.
Margaret stilled, her heart battering in her chest.
“I came…,” he hesitated, searching for the words he had practiced on the footpaths to her home. He stepped closer, staring at her down-turned face and the folded hands lying upon her skirts.
“I came to tell you I love you. I have thought of no one but you since we first met.”
She could not look up. Her breathing quickened as his words overwhelmed her with the familiar deep-lying passion he had unleashed upon her so suddenly months before.
Her silence bade him continue. “Surely you must know my feelings have remained the same—nay, they have grown despite all our differences. I made it plain months ago that I wished you to be my wife. And now I ask you again—will you marry me? I hope—I believe you may have some measure of feeling for me—“
“And you must know that I have misgivings in attaching myself to someone who would send the police to beat poor starving people!”
“I was protecting my family and my mill!” he answered, his voice rising again.
“If you had not brought the Irish to take their jobs—“
“I was saving my business from financial ruin!”
The door to the room swung open. “Here now, what is all this?” Mr. Hale exclaimed, his face contorted in alarm. “Your mother is sleeping,” he said, chastising his daughter.
“John?” he said, looking to his favorite student for any explanation.
“Accept my apologies for my intrusion. I will take my leave,” Mr. Thornton said, ducking his head from any scrutiny as he strode hastily from the room.
“Margaret?” her father asked, bewildered by Mr. Thornton’s gruff departure.
“Please, I cannot speak about it now,” she said, turning her face away and rushing past him in a rustle of her skirts.
Behind the closed door of her room, Margaret stood in the darkness. The pain of anguish pulled at the pit of her stomach. Her eyes pricked with tears. What had she done? What was it that made her treat him so cruelly?
