Margaret enters the drawing room quickly worried her courage will fail her if she dallies; she sees Mr Thornton standing in front of the window with his back to her, standing tall in his usual commanding stance, seemingly engrossed in watching something occurring on the street below. She does not notice the nervous tension in his broad shoulders, nor that rather than looking he is lost in his own thoughts.
She realises he has not heard her entrance and takes a moment to try and calm the fluttering in her chest that had started upon Dixon telling her that he was here in the house to see her. She could guess why he was here, had expected this call last night, had felt unexplainably disappointed when she had returned from Bessy's house to not find him still here, or a calling card. She told herself she was being silly as she did not want him to come to her and do what he undoubtedly felt compelled to do, and if he had called whilst she was out he would surely have relayed the series of events to her father, something she prayed he would never reach his ears.
Expecting his call however did not quell the nervous energy that flooded her system upon hearing that he was now here. She reasoned with herself it must be due to embarrassment or shame from her behaviour the day before. Her mother was sleeping upstairs, her father was out, she did not know whether to feel pleased or sorry for their absence, though she knew she could not delay the inevitable, and it was possible now that neither need know anything of the previous day's events. After hearing Fanny's comments to the maid about how her behaviour had appeared, she had been mortified, she had never intended her actions to display any kind of affection toward Mr Thornton, her pride bristled at the idea that they would think of her that way, that he would think of her that way. She knew that he would hear how it had looked to those within the house and being a type of man that was he would feel compelled to make her an offer.
She had returned home late from Bessy's side the night before and had fell into bed exhausted expecting sleep to welcome her quickly but her head had been full of things she had not wanted to consider, her friend and her mother's ailing health, the regretful letter she had send to summon her brother, perhaps to his demise, the comments of Fanny she had overheard as she roused from her faint. She had been angered by the suggestions that she was trying to trap Mr Thornton into offering his hand. She didn't even like the man, she also felt a shameful amount of irritation that she was being accused of such behaviour without even having been able to enjoy the inappropriate position she had been in. She had never been in such close contact with a man who was not a close relation and she felt some regret that her first embrace was under such circumstances, not that she wished to embrace Mr Thornton under different circumstances, of course she didn't, she just keenly felt the injustice of being accused of having intentions she had not had.
When she did eventually fall into a fitful sleep her dreams had been full of visions of his stern brow and ice blue eyes, looking down at her in confusion and irritation, the feel of his large body pressed flush against her much smaller frame, his hands around her waist, the feeling of weightlessness as his deep voice, filled with anguish, spoke words of love and affection. She woke feeling unsettled ad restless, her body feeling unusually warm given the cool temperature of her room. She had risen early not wanting to go back to sleep for fear what her fevered mind would conjure, but the images did not leave her mind once she had woken as dreams normally did, they haunted her, and she had not managed to achieve anything constructive that morning.
She shakes her head as if she could rid herself of these thoughts. Unable to think of a different reason why his presence would cause such a visceral reaction in her. Taking in his broad shoulders, she recalls how solid and warm he had felt beneath her fingers as she had tried to get between him and the danger of the crowd at her back. She did not know what had possessed her to act in such a way. She had suddenly felt compelled to protect this man before her especially as it had been her thoughtless words that had placed him in the perilous position in the first place, not that she had expected him to do as she had suggested. He normally disagreed with any opinions she held, so she had been stunned when he had marched outside to face the crowd at her biding, what had he been thinking. Before she knew what was happening she had found herself wrapping her arms around his neck as if she could bodily shield him from the hoard of angry workers. She could see how such a display could easily be misinterpreted which only increased her discomfort, knowing she could little defend herself.
He suddenly turns to her and she was met with the same blue eyes that had filled her dreams last night, she drops her head slightly fearing he would see the flush spreading up her face. She is unable to speak to offer him a seat or refreshment as she does not trust her voice at that moment. He suddenly steps forward several strides, she tenses unsure what he will do when he reaches her but at the last moment his trajectory changes, and he moves behind her closing the door to the room. She places her hand on the table to steady herself, unaware that he too is taking a moment to steady himself, his palm pressed up against the door.
With a deep breath he pushes himself away from the door and moves beside her, she quickly withdraws her hand from the table straightening her posture, head thrown back a little in her customary proud attitude. Even though she does feel some shame for her behaviour yesterday she was too indignant to justify herself to anyone. As she meets his eyes she cannot read the expression on his face he looks almost nervous, she had never seen him look anything other than of sure of himself, never seeming to doubt his own self-importance and the power he wields over others, the customary scowl removed from his face make him look years younger and she softens slightly to him.
'How are you- is your head feeling better?' his hand that had started to make its way to her face stops and he drops it again to his side. For a moment she wonders that maybe she was mistaken in her assumption as to why he is here, maybe he is here just to ask after her wellbeing, that the reason for his unease is because he feels responsible for her injuries, that fanny's speculations were not conveyed to him.
Thank you, Sir. I am feeling quite well recovered' she tries to sound as reassuring as possible, but her hand unconsciously makes its way up to the side of her temple, smoothing down the hair she had carefully arranged to hide the small wound. His eyes follow the movement, and appear the wince slightly, as if he can feel her pain. He looks away from her down at his hands which she has notices are still holding his hat, he fidgets with it, again a behaviour she has never witnessed him display before, he usually seems in complete control of his actions.
'Miss Hale, I was very ungrateful yesterday… '
'You have nothing to be grateful for Mr Thornton.' She interrupts quickly, his eyes snapping back up to hers 'You mean, I suppose that you believe you ought to thank me for what I did' she refuses to break eye contact as she continues, no matter how his cool eyes seem to burn through into her mind, seeing all the thoughts she is struggling so hard to keep within herself. 'it was only natural instinct; any woman would have done the same thing'
'That cannot be true' his usual scowl returns to his face and she feels the loss of the open expression he had shown her moments before, he turns his head to the side slightly breaking eye contact.
'I was after all responsible for placing you in danger, I would have done the same for any man there' she continues trying to force her voice to sound more stable than she feels.
'any man?' he echoes quietly, as if to himself rather than her. He places his hat onto the table, dusting off some imaginary mark with his fingers.
He turns his head back to meet her eyes again a new determination in them and she knows with a sinking feeling in her stomach that she was not mistaken about his reasons for coming today.
'Miss Hale, I did not just come here to thank you, I came because… '. He steps towards her, taking one of her small pale hands in his large, warm hands 'Miss Hale my feelings for you are very strong' he opens his mouth to continue but she cuts him off again.
'Please stop' she pulled her hand from his, her skin feeling as though it is burned from the contact. Taking a step back from him, the memory of Fanny's words causing her to feel shame at how he must see her, 'please do not speak to me as if it were your duty to rescue my reputation'
'I spoke to you of my feelings because I love you, I had no thought for your reputation' he took a step forward, closing the between them that gap she had just created. She could not believe him though; she felt everyone must think she was one of those women whose sole purpose was to capture a husband. She felt the anger rise in her that he believed her to be that way too, an anger that is fuelled by her realisation that it pains her for him to think badly of her, but her pride will not allow her to just explain the misunderstanding.
She decides she will stand her ground this time, setting her shoulders raising her face to meet his gaze defiantly, her eyes narrow, nose flaring as she speaks accusingly 'You think that because you are rich and my father is in reduced circumstances, that you can have me for you possession, I suppose I should expect no less from someone in trade' She knew she had gone too far but she could not back down now, she needs him to believe that she had not tried to trap him, and although she would not admit it to herself, she also wanted to lash out at him for the pain his assumptions were causing her.
'I don't want to possess you' she could see from the pained look on his face her words had the desired effect, she did her best to ignore the doubt that was starting to seep into her mind, did she really want to push him away?
'you think because I am in trade I can only think in terms of buying and selling, I wish to marry you because I love you' he steps forward again as he spoke, they are less than a foot apart now, his face reddened with anger at her accusation, or perhaps with the passion she had not before believed him capable prior to today.
'Well you shouldn't because I do not like you' she replies, in a weak voice, even to her own ears she does not sound that sure of herself, but she does her best to recover her bravado, lifting her chin to meet his eyes defiantly.
'Was that for yours or my benefit?' he laughs mirthlessly raising an eyebrow, 'you can deny liking me, but I will not be convinced you do not want me!' she tries to turn away now as she knows she cannot lie to his face, because she realises it would be a lie, she did want him in a way her youthful innocence didn't understand. He stops her turning from him with his hand on her arm, stepping closer still, as close as he could stand without their bodies touching, the bottom of her skirt pressing against his legs. She keeps her head down to avoid his eyes, knowing he would see just how correct his assertion is.
'I said I do not want to possess you but it was a lie' her head whips up at the declaration, panic fills her seeing how close their faces are as he towers over her his eyes dark and unreadable, her heart beats wildly in her chest, does he really believe that he can have her as his possession?
'I do wish to possess you, but not as an object. As a man possesses a woman, as I can tell you want to be possessed by me' she is shocked by the words he is saying, but more so by the reaction it is causing within herself, the feelings scare her. She knows she should be offended by such a proclamation, she draws her hand up to slap him but he catches her wrist before she reaches his face, holding her steady with the captured arm he closes the small distance between them and he kisses her, she is frozen in shock at first, his mouth hard and bruising against hers, in stark contrast to the hand he has gently placed on her cheek, his long fingers stroking down the side of her neck into her hair.
She moves free hand up to his chest to push him away but the feel of his mouth moving over hers causes her to clings to him instead, her fingers digging into the hard muscle there.
He pulls back away from her for a moment, his eyes seeking hers to confirm that his touch is not unwanted. She sways forward slightly towards him at the sudden loss of contact and as she meets his bright blue eyes that burn with a dark desire, her own eyes heavy lidded and unfocused. A wolfish grin spreads across his face as he lets go of the hand he was still griping from where she tried to slap him and her hand falls to her side. He strokes her cheek tenderly, using his thumb under her jaw his to gently tilt her face up to his as he leans back down towards her lips, he keeps eye contact with her giving plenty of time for her to refuse him a second kiss but she is unable to deny the need that he has stoked inside her, one she barely understands.
His lips meet her again more gently this time coaxing her mouth to move with his. She had never been kissed before and did not really know what to do but the soft groan that rumbles in his throat suggests she was doing something right. His arm moves around her waist to pull her closer, bringing her body flush against his, she gasps at the feel and he takes advantage of her open mouth and slides his tongue inside.
He tips her head further back allowing him better access, his tongue caresses hers as she clings to him knowing he is the only thing keeping her standing, one hand on his chest, the other fisting the material of his shirt at his waist, now it is her turn to groan and she feels him smile against her lips. He softly kisses down her jawline and the column of her throat giving her an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture of the shoulder teeth lightly grazing the sensitive area, her knees buckle as she moans his name in a voice she doesn't recognise as her own 'John!' It sounds pleading and desperate she is not sure if she it's a plea for him to stop or to continue. Her tone shocks her, breaking the spell, worry that should this continue she may lose herself entirely to his will.
She summons the strength to push back from him, disentangling her hands that had somehow made their way into his hair, she uses his strong chest to push herself backward a few inches, then she steps back creating more space. He allows her to go with no resistance. His eyes burning into hers with unguarded passion. Seeing him stood there before her breathing heavily, his hair messed up, his cravat loosened from his throat, this normally calm controlled man would be her undoing if she allowed it. Knowing she was the one to have put him into this state does strange things to her body and she has to fight her urges to throw herself back into his arms.
She turns around abruptly looking out the window trying to get some semblance of control over her emotions. She too was breathing deeply and shook slightly on her unsteady legs. Her lips feeling swollen the skin around her mouth and down her throat feeling overly sensitive having been rubbed by his slight but rough stubble. She had never considered before what a man's stubble would feel like, or that it would be noticeable when kissing.
She felt rather than heard him approaching her, the idea that he would try to take her in his arms again thrilled her, but also petrified her. 'Do not continue in this way' she began weakly without turning around, as she knew seeing him would cause her to waiver, clearing her throat she continued 'it is not the way of a gentleman' she heard the low rumble of his laugh. He was closer than she had realised.
'I know that in your eyes at least I am not a gentleman, but I have never claimed to be' She could feel the heat radiating off his large body, his breath ticking the back of her neck as he spoke. 'One could say your response is not that of a lady' he leans forward, leaning his hands on the window sill either side of hers 'I do not mean to insult you at all, they were the reactions of a women, just as mine where those of a man.' She was unsure how to respond, his words combine with his proximity, it clouds her thoughts, her nerve endings on high alert, she is surrounded by him, drowning in his seductive power.
'I do not think you truly want a gentleman' he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, she nearly whimpers, shutting her eyes tightly, biting the inside of her cheek, her hands grip the windowsill to try and keep control over her reactions.
'Did any of those soft southern gentlemen ever make you feel this way?' He kisses the back of her neck, her head dropping back of its own will to rest against his shoulder, allowing him to further explore the curve of her neck as one of his hands splays out low on her stomach pulling her trembling form back into him. His other hand slowly drifting up her bodice from her waist, gently cupping her breast, his thumb hooking under the neckline of her top to caress the small section of her bare flesh he could reach.
'Have any of those gentlemen caused your body to react in the way it is now?' He sucks the sensitive spot on her neck he had found earlier. She clamped her teeth down on her lip to stop her crying out, warmth pooled between her thighs, and she felt a throbbing sensation there she had never experienced before. 'Have they Margaret?' He growls low, the way he says her name causes her stomach to clench she grabs onto his arm still holding her tightly across her waist, everything else around her has disappears, the world reduces to just them.
'No' she bites out 'I have never even been kissed before' she reluctantly admits her voice breaking unable to contain all the emotions and sensations rising inside her, 'I never wanted anyone to before' she adds so quietly he can barely hear her.
He spins her around to face him, his eyes searching hers, his hands either side of her face one thumb brushing a lone tear that rolled down her cheek, his tone softened 'but you do now?'
She doesn't answer, she can't speak. So instead she reaches up on tip toes placing her arms around his neck in the way she had at the riot yesterday and softly places her lips to the corner of his mouth, kissing him lightly there, then does the same on the other side. She pulls back enough to see his face, his eyes are closed, a slight smile gracing his strong angular features. She kisses him again gently but gaining courage as she copies how he had moved against her own mouth moments ago. She experimentally flicks her tongue against his lips. With a satisfied sigh he opens his mouth to her, allowing her entrance she dips her tongue inside to meet his, she wonders at the strange but not unpleasant sensation.
He seems unable to hold back any longer and took control of the kiss, his hands winding around her waist pulling her as close as they could be with their clothes on, one hand wound up into her hair, his other large hand splayed low on her back nearly spanning the width of her waist, she unconsciously tilts her hips forward towards him, seeking something. His hand slides lower holding her firmly against his own hips, she could feel a hardness there between them, she gasps into his mouth as he rubs against her, feeling something inside her tighten like a coil.
He kisses down her neck, grazing his teeth along her collar bone, she shudders in pleasure.
'John please' she half moans, not sure what she was asking for, but she feels she need something he alone could give her, a release from the pressure building inside her. She knows she should feel abashed by her wanton behaviour, but she cannot bring herself to care about anything, but the sensuality John was awakening within her.
He hands gripping his hair she pulls him back up to her mouth, opening her mouth wide to allow his tongue to take possession of her. Her hips once again surge forward. This time he grips her hip holding her still, his other hand on her shoulder his thumb stroking the side of her throat as he broke the kiss. He rests his forehead against hers as the both try to catch their breath.
'Have I done something wrong?' she asks after a few moments, her voice weak she feels close to tears suddenly, thinking in her naivety she has done something incorrectly and ruined everything.
He softly kisses the top of her head, taking her face in his hands he draws her gaze up to meet is, 'no, not at all, quite the opposite in fact, you are driving me mad with want for you Margaret and I do not wish for you to do anything you cannot take back.'
A short sharp laugh escapes her, she tries to push back from him, angry suddenly. 'Do you imagine I could take back what has already been done, that I am that fickle or easily persuaded?'
'No, I would hope not' he replies his voice full of warmth and humour, she looks up at him confusion clear on her face. He looks down at her his eyes softening, his thumb continues to stroke down the side of her throat. 'Oh Margaret, my Margaret, no one can tell what you are to me, you will be my Margaret, won't you?'
She looks deep into his eyes 'I already am.' Her courage failing her, she feels overcome by shyness and burying her face into his chest.
'Does that mean you will marry me?' he spoke into hair, kissing her head tenderly.
'Yes' she replies quietly into his chest.
He moves her back from him, so he could look in to her eyes, which were filling with tears, 'yes?'
'yes, yes I will' she affirms. The smile of pure joy that spreads across his face is breath taking.
He lifts her off her feet. A deep laugh erupts from his chest as he swings her around, she realises she had never heard him laugh properly before, the deep bass sound vibrating through her body warming her very soul, she joins in on his mirth, laughing along with him.