A Heart for Milton

A Heart for Milton - Epilogue

At long last, we reach the end. 

Thanks to everyone who has read this to its conclusion, and a special thanks to all my fans.

It was my intention to write a story that warmed the heart and touched the soul. I hope you enjoyed it.

Best wishes,

Trudy

Author's note:  A Heart for Milton is now available in paperback and as a Kindle ebook at Amazon.

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A Heart for Milton - Epilogue

Milton - 1858

Sophie Thornton watched eagerly out the window for any sign of a carriage at the gates. Leaning on tiptoes, she pressed her face against the glass to gain a wider view. “He’s here, Mama!” she called out excitedly, her dark ringlets bobbing as she bounded with glee toward her mother.

The sight of her daughter’s sparkling blue eyes warmed Margaret’s heart. How much those bright eyes reminded her of John! She beamed back at her daughter as the smaller girl in her lap sprang forward to run to the window.

“I don’t see him!” the little one pouted as she peered out the window, her henna curls glinting with a golden hue in the sunlight.

“Come, Lydia, he will be here soon enough,” Margaret called her youngest daughter, who would be three years old come summer’s end. Lydia and Sophie each took an outstretched hand and stood next to their mother in the drawing room as they waited for their father to appear at the doorway.

“Papa!” the littlest one exclaimed as Mr. Thornton’s dark-clad form entered the room. She bolted to him, hands outstretched, as he quickly fell to one knee to catch her. Sophie darted to her father’s side in rapid order with an excited greeting of her own and he duly swept her into his embrace with a wide swing of his arm. He hugged them both tight against him and told them that he’d missed them.

Grinning at his warm reception, Mr. Thornton looked up at his wife who stood watching the unfolding scene with a glowing face. He gathered Lydia up in one arm and guided Sophie forward as he approached Margaret.  “And how is my biggest girl?” he asked, the silken tones of his voice meant only for her. Their eyes spoke of the loneliness they had suffered apart and sparkled with glad relief to be in one another’s presence once more.

“I’m tolerably well, but you have been sorely missed,” she confided with a playful smile that could not refrain from drawing up at the corners as he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him with little Lydia still in his grasp.

“Have I?” he answered in a whisper before soundly kissing her lips, savoring the taste of her after five days’ absence. His days in London had been busy enough, but at night, when the quietness had been amplified by her absence, his bed had seemed empty and he had ached to feel her arms around him.

She did not answer him, but her lingering kiss and the loving look she gave him told him all he needed to know.

“Where is mother?” he asked.

“I am here, with your son,” his mother answered as she approached the gathered family. A dark-haired lad lay his head lazily on his grandmother’s shoulder, his plump arms wrapped loosely around her neck. Having just awoken from his nap, the little one appeared uninterested in his surroundings, his eyes half closed in a sleepy stupor.

His father leaned down to meet his tired gaze, a warming smile growing on his lips at the sight of the boy who had grown so much in just one year. “Hello, Johnny. Papa’s home,” he said gently, encouraging the boy to wake up fully and notice him.

“Papa,” Johnny responded, his blue eyes alert now in recognition. He lifted his head and extended his arms toward his father.

Mr. Thornton received him in one arm, Lydia still secured to his side with the other.

“How were you received in Parliament?” Hannah Thornton inquired with great interest.

“Very well, I suppose,”he answered forthrightly, as if considering for the first time the success of his trip. “I was introduced to a great number of Members and was asked to several subsequent meetings to answer all their questions.” He had gone to speak to Parliament on behalf of the cotton industry as a guest of Mr. Wilkinson. It was a duty he was pleased to perform in order to convey the issues of his business as he understood them.

His wife and mother smiled in knowing pride at his obvious accomplishments, but the children were anxious to commandeer their father’s attention to things of far more importance.

“Papa, Mr. Bell sent me a new doll for my birthday! Will you come see her?” Sophie asked eagerly, bouncing on her tiptoes as she spoke.

Lydia squirmed down out of her father’s hold to join her sister. “He gave me a new doll, too!” the smaller girl added with equal excitement.

“Your birthday?” Mr. Thornton inquired suspiciously. “I thought he already sent you a present for your birthday some time ago. It seems to me that Mr. Bell is spoiling the both of you. He gave you enough presents at Christmas to last you the year,” he teased them with a twinkle in his eye.

“Come now, you can show your father your gifts, but then we must let him relax. It was a long journey from London,” Margaret told them as she shepherded them towards the stairs.

“Did you see Sholto and Emmeline?” Sophie demanded.

“I did. They are eager for you to visit when we go on our holiday this summer,” he replied as they all climbed the stairs.

After Mr. Thornton had made the obligatory visit to the girls’ room, Margaret left the children in Hannah’s care for a moment as she led her husband down the hall. He stopped her when she would have continued past their room. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice sultry as his hand clasped her arm.

“To pour you a bath; you have traveled a long way...” she began, looking questioningly at him.

He pulled her into his arms in the middle of the hall. “Will you not first welcome me properly?” he murmured as a suggestive smile spread over his face. His breath caught in his throat as she raised her soulful eyes to meet his, and he wondered yet again at the power she held to entrance him. She was so beautiful!

Margaret raised a hand to caress his face, running her palm over his cheek and brushing her fingers into the hair at his temple. She brought her other hand up to slide along his jaw and neck. He had only been gone a few days, yet she felt as if he had been lost to her for years. She did not take – she would never take -- his love for granted. He was the embodiment of each manly strength, and all that was right and good in this world. He was so gloriously handsome! Did he not know it? She doubted that he did – she doubted that he knew he had the power to render her breathless when she received such looks from his piercing blue eyes.