Missing Mr Thornton

CHAPTER 18: Returning Home

 Thornton folded his final cotton shirt into the small travel case he had brought with him. He looked over to Margaret who was lifting her now dry clothing from their place in for to the small hearth, she placed them into her own case, a dejected and detached look casting shadows in the creases on her young face. He was sure she reflected his own miserable countenance as reality began to set in for them, harsher than before.

They had been living in a dream, but they'd had too much of a taste of what could've been. From a far they could've borne the unrequited love they felt they had, but now they were completely entangled in each others hearts, impossible to retract the hands that had stolen their hearts greedily and replaced them with each others, beating as their own, becoming a part of them they depended on. Mr Thornton frowned as his thoughts took a new turn; Margaret would be going back to her husband, the word made his insides twist unpleasantly and his hands ball into clenched fists unconsciously, as for him, he would return to his lonely bed, dreaming of something that could never be. He snapped his case shut more aggressively than he had intended; he couldn't curb the jealousy flooding through his veins, pulsing. The idea of that slimy bastard touching her, sleeping next to her, calling her his wife. He felt the anger rise in his chest as his eyes pierced into his case as if it was the source of his desperate jealousy.

He spun around as he felt a soft, feathery touch on his tensed arm. He dragged his sinking mind back to shore, removing his mind from the clutches of the jealousy that still roamed his body; sinking into every crevice it could. "Are you alright John?" he heard her satiny voice ask him, worry hinted through her words. Her gentle face and caring eyes softly boring into his own calmed him, her voice was like sweet music in the summer evenings to him, he felt he could get drunk in her eyes as they shimmered and swirled in front of him. He smiled, somewhat forcedly, as he tried to erase the worry from her mind, "Fine, My Love," he murmured, "I was just in thought." Margaret chose not to question him further for which he was grateful, she had a pretty good idea what had been troubling him for she herself was loathed to go back to, her home? Could she call it her home? It didn't feel like a home, her home would be with John, full of love and happiness, not the cold grey building shrouded in misery and loneliness.

Margaret leaned up and pressed a light kiss to his lips offering him as supportive a smile as she could muster up, she turned as her facade began to crack and picked up her luggage giving herself a moment to replace the mask on her face before she turned back to face him with a smile. One of them had to be strong, she would be that one, she had suffered the loss of her brother to Spain, her mother, her father and then her godfather, she could do this. Yet, this felt different, harder almost. She shook herself mentally, cursing herself for placing this man above her family, yet she could not feel sorry for doing so.

She clutched John's large hand in hers and together they walked away from the small, secluded cottage, shafts of light falling on it giving it an ethereal glow, leaving their fantastical world where they could act together as married couples might. They climbed into the small carriage with a nod to the driver and sat down on the old benches inside the carriage. Mr Thornton pulled down the small blinds on either side of the vehicle and it was instantly dark inside. Thornton then grabbed Margret from her respectable position opposite him and pulled her onto his lap, shifting her until she was comfortably supported against him.

The coach arrived in London and pulled up outside Mr Thornton's residence, he placed a chaste kiss on Margarets lips and went to the door of the carriage to leave. Margaret turned her head away as she felt tear prickle lightly in her eyes, she would not cry. "I love you," his last words wafted back towards her as the coach started again taking her to her own home. "I love you too," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. She opened the blinds of her carriage and let the grey, afternoon light filter into the dusty interior. She furiously wiped her eyes, refusing her tears the satisfaction of falling from their place. She took a deep breath and smiled, the smile she had perfected over the years as she played the strong daughter, the strong sister and the strong wife.

The carriage pulled to a stop. "Miss?" the voice of the coachman questioned, "We're 'ere." Margaret smiled at the man, "Thank you kindly," she muttered and placed some coins into his rough palm. She took his offered hand and picked up her baggage with her free hand as he helped her climb down from the small vehicle. She looked up at the tall building in front of her, she calmed her nerves and determinedly marched up the front steps and pulled on the rope by the side of the door. She stepped back as she heard the sound resonate inside and waited patiently as she heard the scurrying of servants behind the stone walls of the prison that loomed imposingly over her. When the door finally opened however, she was not greeted by the familiar face of Smyth their butler, but another face. 

Hey All!

Here is the next chapter as promised, I hope you like it, I will try and finish the next one as quickly as possible. Thank you for all your support and comments, they have really inspired me to carry on writing this story. Have a great day!

Love,

Milton Girl

xxx