Stepping onto the train, Margaret's breath caught and she realized what she had done. Feeling John Thornton behind her, she began to move down the aisle. He pressed his hand against her elbow and guided her to a secluded set of seats. She sat down and watched Mr. Thornton store away her bag. As he sat next to her, she immediately turned her face to her lap, willing her heart to slow, for it felt like it was skittering all around her chest. She had hopped onto a train with no destination in mind, other than to be with Mr. Thornton. Gazing at her hands, she resolved herself to think of business; to think of the quickest way to get Marlborough Mills running again, but she was remembering how he had held her hand, and how it had felt to be kissed.

Mr. Thornton watched Margaret, noting how quickly she was breathing. He had never seen her composure so broken. He brought his hand to touch the side of her face. He hoped it would calm her, but she flushed deeply and her eyes fluttered. His fingertips found their way to her temple and brushed aside her hair. He felt the small scar he had assumed was there, but had never seen. Leaning around her, he looked closely and found the silvery white mark she hid under her hair.

"Looking for imaginary wounds, Mr. Thornton?" Margaret asked, smiling.

"They're not imaginary when you can see them," he replied, smoothing her hair back into place.

His picked her hands up out of her lap and stared at them. He had longed to hold them since he was introduced to her. They were smaller than his, though not as soft as they looked. When he looked up, she was staring at him with her green eyes wide. He felt his heart falter for a moment. Did he assume too much? Did Margaret still disapprove of his behavior as ungentlemanly? As he opened his mouth to apologize, she smiled and timidly touched his collar.

"You seem different without your cravat and jacket," she said. "More at ease."

"Less gentlemanly too, I assume?"

"No," she replied, looking up at him. "You look like a gentleman in whatever you wear."

He put his arm around her, their eyes holding the other at all times. Several minutes passed. They seemed to want nothing except to stare at the other. Thornton marveled at the warmth he felt exuding from her eyes. Eyes he had hoped, but never dreamed, would care for him. Margaret could think of nothing but how handsome he looked when he smiled. She hadn't seen him smile like this in the years she had known him. It seemed a natural state for his face. Much more so than the grim gravity he had worn whenever they spoke of his business.

"Business!" Margaret started. "Yes, we must get all these plans sorted. Marlborough Mills must reopen as soon as possible."

"Yes," Thornton replied, surprised. "I will call on my lawyer immediately when we return to Milton."

"I have the papers Henry drew up in my bag." She moved to stand, but Thornton touched her arm.

"I do not need to see them now," he told her. "I trust everything is in order on your side, as Henry seems a most cautious man."

"He was very helpful in bringing me to you." Margaret looked down at her hands again. "I do wish to get everything settled. I hope Nicholas and Mary have not made future commitments."

"They could scarcely have since I saw them yesterday evening," Thornton remarked. "How things have changed in the past 24 hours."

He explained to Margaret how Higgins had told him of her brother.

"I must confess how painful it was to see you at the station that night." He told her.

"It was painful to be seen," She replied. "I was horrified that you thought so ill of me. You would have been justified had my actions been what they appeared."

"I was jealous," Thornton admitted. "But I could not think ill of you. I tried, but could not. It tormented me, I assure you."

"I never wanted that," Margaret said. "No matter how horrible I sounded on the day you…When we spoke privately. I never wanted to cause you harm."

"You would not wish to harm even a creature you despised, I feel."

"I was angry with you for how you treated that man on our first meeting, but it was also my first glimpse into a brand new world I knew nothing about. You should not have lost your temper, and I should not have held you in such contempt." Margaret smiled. "I believe even before we spoke privately I had begun to see that you were not the man I took you for."

"But you were offended. You thought I had come merely out of obligation to save your reputation."

"Yes. I'm sorry for the words I said. I have a temper too, I am afraid."

"We shall have to be careful with two tempers such as ours." Thornton smiled, reaching to touch Margaret's temple again. After a moment's pause, he asked, "Would you really have saved any man there from violence?"

"I did not think about it at the time," she replied, stroking his soft hair. "You were in danger, and I thought I could help."

Thornton smiled, though he regretted that Margaret had been hurt. Seeing her lay lifeless on the ground had been the only thing to truly terrify him that miserable day. He put her arms around his neck, like she had done to shield him. She sighed and closed her eyes. He could not help it. He had to kiss her.

Margaret's eyes fluttered open as his mouth softly touched hers. When she saw how sweetly he looked at her, she felt herself melt into him. She held his face, her fingers tingling since he had not shaven that day. He pulled back a little and rested his forehead against hers.

"You never let me say the words before," he whispered, his hands reaching for hers.

"What words?" she asked.

"Will you marry me?" He asked, his heart scarcely able to beat. "Will you allow me to love you and hold you like this for the rest of our lives?"

Margaret's eyes filled with tears. Looking into his deep brown eyes, she nodded. She saw the tears come to his eyes as he kissed her. Hers began to fall and he pulled away, looking at her closely.

"I wish my mother and father were alive to see us marry," She said. "How my father adored you. He thought you were such a wonderful man."

"I adored your father and mother as well," said Thornton. "I am sorry you have had to bear such sorrow."

He held her for a long time, and they stared out the window, watching countless fields pass.

"I love you," Margaret whispered into his ear.

Thornton pulled her close.

"You are happiness," He told her. "When my father died, I was sure I would never be happy again."

"But you are?" She asked him.

He kissed her again, feeling as though he would explode with such happiness.

As the train drew within a couple hours of Milton, Thornton began to worry about where Margaret would stay.

"Well, with Nicholas and Mary, of course," She answered his anxious inquiries. "Until you can be sure your mother has adjusted to our engagement."

"She always told me that if I would stop trying to make her like you, she might see your merits herself."

"Well, for heaven's sake, do as she bids." Margaret laughed. "She is not a woman I like to have against me."

Against his shoulder, with his head on hers, they dozed the rest of the way home. When they arrived, Thornton walked Margaret to Higgins' home, where they were met with enough joy and well-wishes to almost make up for whatever Mrs. Thornton was going to stay.

Distressed that he must go, Thornton finally allowed himself to be parted from Margaret. He held her hand for a few moments, but didn't dare do anything else with six children watching and giggling.

"I'll come for you tomorrow?" He asked. "We may have to go to London to speed up the reopening of the mill."

"Of course," She replied. Seeing his anxious face darting from child to child, she smiled and kissed his hand. "Goodnight, Mr. Thor-…John. Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight, Margaret." He let go of her hand and exited, though it felt like he was leaving everything that was beautiful and wonderful.

Within a few blocks, he managed to refocus his thoughts. While he hated to be parted from her, he realized that soon they would be married. They would see each other morning, noon, and night. He quickened his step, hoping his mother would still be awake when he got home.

She was. Hugging him, she exclaimed, "Where have you been all day? I worried."

"I'm sorry, Mother," he replied, sitting down with her on the couch. "But do forgive me, for I have so much to tell you."