Free In Consequence: A Retelling of North and South by Trudy Brasure

him?
    Despite his internal confusion, he mustered a pleasing smile for the man before him. “That is wonderful news, John! Wonderful indeed, I assure you,” he replied as he stood up to shake his future son-in-law’s hand. “But would you perhaps take the trouble to send Margaret to me? I would like to speak to her a few minutes,” he fumbled, half congratulatory, half wary.
    Mr. Thornton’s smile faded at this request. He dreaded that Margaret might be given an opportunity to reconsider. “Of course,” he answered, and left to carry out his task.
    His eyes sought her before he had even reached the last few stairs, anxiously wondering if she was still there — if she was still willing to stand behind the word she had given him, the one word that had the power to change his entire life.
    His uncertainty was mildly relieved as his gaze rested upon the solemn figure standing mutely in the room where he had left her. His footfall alerted her to his approach, and she looked up from her dazed reverie, her large soulful eyes meeting his, inspiring in him a desperate desire to enfold her in his arms and never let go.
    “Your father wishes to speak with you,” he relayed with a slightly furrowed brow. A cold fear stabbed at his heart and he began to feel the familiar pall of dread that he should live a lifetime alone.
    She gave a slight nod of acquiescence before silently sweeping past him to follow her father’s summons.
    He watched helplessly as her graceful form slowly mounted the stairs. When she finally disappeared, his panic rose to smother the budding wonder of her acceptance. Had she been in earnest in her response, or was it merely an outburst for which she would repent? His hope refused to surrender. Surely she would honor the word she had spoken. She had promised to become his wife. His chest ached in intensified longing at the thought of it.
    He began to pace amidst the cramped but pleasant confines of the room.
     
    *****
    “Margaret, Mr. Thornton tells me you have accepted his offer of marriage. Is this tr ue?” Mr. Hale asked, bewildered of the girl standing before him with bowed head.
    “Yes, Father,” she admitted in soft tones, lifting her gaze to meet his uncomprehending stare. How could she explain what she had done when she barely understood herself? “Do you not approve?” she asked, flustered by his somberness and desperate to be assured that she had not been foolish — that she had instead acted wisely in accepting him.
    “Of course I should approve, my dear. I only wished to understand how it is you have changed your opinion of the man so quickly. I was certain that you did not carry him in very high regard. Truth be told, I had no idea that my favorite pupil had a tenderness for my dearest daughter. I was quite convinced you had put the man well off the trail, as it were, with your rather strong opinions of Milton men and their ways,” he confessed, regarding her expectantly.
    “I have been rather harsh,” she admitted, realizing how strange it must appear to him that she should have accepted the man with whom she had so stringently quarreled. She could not make sense of the swirling mass of emotions that assailed her. What had she done? It was no use to fathom the depths of it at present; she had given her word and must now stand behind it.
    “I believe I can see a kindness in him now,” she faltered. “He is honest. You believe him to be a good man, Father, do you not?” she asked, attempting to convince herself of the rightness of her choice.
    “Yes, indeed. There is no question of that, my dear. He’s one of the most impressive men I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. I only wanted to be certain that you came to your own decision without feeling any … obligation that is not pleasant to you,” he clarified with concern. He did not want her to enter into such a sacred bond merely to please him or the expectations of others.
    She froze at his words, momentarily wavering in