In Consequence

In Consequence - Chapter 7

Mr. Thornton smiled as he rolled to his side, turning his roughened cheek into his pillow. Emerging gently from the languorous ecstasy of a dream, he felt the blissful touch of his lover’s soft arms around him. Her long hair spilled over them both as they embraced. His eyes fluttered open as he drifted into a hazy state of semi-consciousness. Shadowy forms began to take shape around him, but he willingly lingered in the warmth of unfettered love that drowsily besotted him.

The dream images slowly yielded to the reality of solitude. He reached out to touch the empty space next to him, the cool cotton smooth under his hand. His smile lingered. Although it was only fantasy, he basked in the glow of utter contentment at the notion that his dreams might not be so far from coming true. A week ago, he would have awoken with a somber realization of his lonely fate. But now... now he knew it was quite possible to hold within his arms the vision of his dreams. Yet a few months hence, everything he imagined might be fulfilled.

He stretched out lazily in happy contemplation of it.

******

Although the day promised neither brilliance of sun nor an anticipated event, Margaret awoke with a sense of contentment that she could not define. The sorrow and burden of the past few days had lifted to allow gleams of hope to buoy her spirits. Her mother might still be ill and Nicholas might remain gruffly aloof, but her worries seemed somehow lessened this morning.

She held out her hand to study the ring on her finger, twisting and turning it to examine every feature in renewed awe, as she had done countless times the evening before. She wondered how he had chosen something so perfectly matched to her taste. The ring was unique in its design, yet still simple and elegant. The intricate tendrils of leaves in the setting and the emerald stones reminded her of Helstone. Had he thought of her fondness for the Hampshire countryside? She felt a nervous tingling of warmth to consider the depth of his affection and her head spun as she endeavored to recount how she came to wear such a jewel. She was incredulous at how quickly everything had happened.

As she washed and dressed for the day, her attention was continually drawn to the strange feel of the shiny adornment on her hand. The thought of him caused her heartbeat to quicken and her stomach to tense. Afraid to delve too deeply into her emotions, she could not fathom why she felt so shaken and disoriented in his presence. She only knew that he held some mysterious power over her, which often rendered her nearly incapable of speech.

She dismissed any further contemplation of her feelings, resolving with hopeful energy to tend to her mother that morning.

As Margaret entered her mother’s sitting room, Mrs. Hale smiled sweetly at her daughter from her reclined position on the sofa. Margaret noted with gratitude that her mother looked well-rested, although a trifle pale.

After exchanging their morning pleasantries, Mrs. Hale directed her daughter to read aloud the letter she had recently received from Aunt Shaw. Margaret obediently complied and, taking the missive in both hands, situated herself across from her mother to read.

“Margaret!” her mother exclaimed, stopping her before she had barely read the salutation. “Are you wearing a betrothal ring?” she demanded with rising excitement.

“Yes, Mother,” Margaret softly answered, and bashfully extended her hand toward her mother for her examination.

Mrs. Hale eagerly studied the diamond and emerald gemstones. “Oh, it’s exquisite!” she said approvingly. “Dixon, come look at Margaret’s ring,” she called to her faithful servant.

Embarrassed that her ring should be the focus of so much attention, Margaret shifted her gaze away from the examined object.

“I’m sure it’s very pretty,” Dixon weighed in, with a twinge of reluctance. “A fine piece for a young bride, very fine,” she admitted, although wary that expensive gifts were often a substitute for good breeding. She would not say a word against Mr. Thornton, however, knowing how pleased her mistress was with her daughter’s betrothal. Dixon let out a silent sigh of helplessness.