Having fulfilled his obligation to greet Miss Latimer, much to his displeasure, John now stood with Slickson, equally annoyed. As host of the evening's gathering, he had a duty to perform, despite whatever irritation it may entail. And it certainly demanded much of him, as evidenced by the perpetually shrill complaints of the man standing before him.
Paying only scant attention to the conversation at hand, John kept the door within his sight out of the corner of his eye, knowing Margaret would enter at any moment. Though it had been his desire to greet and escort her upstairs, together they had agreed ahead of time that this was the best course. So, John had grudgingly left the honors to his mother.
With a sudden but fleeting pang of guilt, John realized his preoccupation must be obvious to Slickson – perhaps even to all of his guests. Indeed, the searching look on the man's face confirmed he was aware of John's distraction, curious as it may be. However, Slickson did not comment on it, opting instead to continue his soliloquy, receiving only a gratuitous nod from John as needed.
The minutes dragged on painfully, so much so that John thought he might combust from the seemingly endless wait. When the door finally swung open, revealing first his mother and then the trio from Crampton following behind, he couldn't hold back a most pleased smile.
His grin was short lived, however, when his guests collectively quieted. A few gasps pierced the sudden silence, along with a round of hushed whispers. John felt his face harden in disappointment at the response to his beloved's entry. How could anyone react in such a way to the most compassionate person of his acquaintance?
But before he could greet her and come to whatever defense she may require, he halted mid-step with Slickson's slimy words as they were murmured. "Ah, the little wanton has arrived! Perhaps she would oblige me at Outwood as well, ey Thornton?"
John's frozen immobilization melted away into a blazing fury so white-hot he could taste it, overcoming all of his logic of proper behavior. He could feel the blood boiling within, pulsing through his body with the speed of a raging wild fire. He was ready for a fight – more than ready. Balling his fists, he prepared to give the man a sound thrashing.
To John's surprise, however, a delicate hand stayed his raised arm. In his bewilderment, all he could do was gaze upon it, the small diamond he had selected long ago twinkling up at him so innocently. Moving his gaze up slowly toward Margaret's face, his ire instantly died down to that of a smoldering ember, the understanding and love dwelling there capable of completely smothering the fire of his anger – if he let it.
Instead, John found himself grasping on to that last bit of heat, eager to dispel the ridiculous notions of scandal and misdeed surrounding his fiancé once and for all. "Ladies and gentleman, it is my greatest pleasure to announce my engagement to Miss Margaret Hale." Once again, a series of gasps and whispers spread through the room.
Tearing his eyes from Margaret, he turned them upon the room, meeting those of each of his guests, some of which he had known his entire life. "Let me assure you any slight upon her reputation is most unwarranted. Indeed, Miss Hale is the epitome of modesty and goodness, bestowing kindness to those within her care and the people of this city most selflessly. She deserves none of your censure but all of your goodwill. Any insult to her is an insult to me, and I would not wish to lose your friendship over something so trifling as gossip."
A glance at his future wife made him aware of her spreading blush as she ducked her head in avoidance of their notice. She didn't seem upset over his words, but rather self-conscious. Once again he smiled at his good fortune in having such a woman to occupy his future. He took her hand and squeezed it gently before announcing, "Now, let us dine in celebration of our love and future happiness."
A weak round of "hear hear" went up around the room, but John couldn't bring himself to care. His connections around Milton, many of which were mutually necessary and beneficial, meant no one would dare insult his bride again without risking his own censure. It was John's deepest hope that the night's revelation would clear the way for Margaret, and thus, his own.
-----
John's words struck Margaret, leaving her somewhat embarrassed and speechless – a rare combination for her. She knew his words were well-meant and purposeful, but she couldn't help wishing them unnecessary. In fact, it somewhat dampened her excitement for the evening.
Dinner seemed to go well with far less hostility than the last one she attended at the Thorntons'. Conversation was plentiful, the food rich, and the company much more friendly even it if was somewhat forced. In the end, Margaret found little to complain about other than a mild headache that continued to grow worse by the second.
Once dinner was finished, more socializing was thrust upon her. She did her best to maintain a pleasant façade and stimulating conversation as she mingled with the guests, but she felt herself quickly fading as the night progressed. Margaret's emotions had been so stirred since she woke up that morning, and the drama that had unfolded upon her entry had pushed her to the precipice of exhaustion.
Making her way over to a settee in a quiet corner, she took a few moments to regain some semblance of calm and contentment as she looked about the room, knowing she would need them to make it through the rest of the evening. Her solitude was cut short, much to her dismay, when Miss Latimer approached and sat down next to her. Margaret tried to offer a welcoming smile but felt it more likely she failed at the attempt.
"I noticed, Miss Hale, that you are looking quite pale, and I took the liberty of bringing you some refreshment." Offering the glass, Miss Latimer continued. "It will help you regain some of your color, I am sure."
"Thank you," breathed out Margaret. "If you think it will revive me, I will gladly take your advice."
Before Margaret moved to do just that, the lady said, "I must offer you my congratulations on your engagement. Mr. Thornton is quite the catch for you, my dear."
Margaret wasn't sure if the flaxen-haired woman meant the statement as a compliment or insult but decided she would take it in the spirit she most wished it. Margaret could, after all, afford to have more friends in Milton if she was to live there permanently.
"Thank you, you are most kind. Indeed, John has been most wonderful to me and my family, and I expect to be most content as his wife."
Margaret raised the glass to her lips, ready to take a sip. Before the liquid could even wet her lips, however, she heard a familiar voice beg her to stop. Lowering the glass hesitantly, she found herself looking up at Mr. Bell. His expression was a perplexing combination of panicked and relieved, and she found herself most uneasy.
"Mr. Bell, whatever is the matter?"
Before he could answer, Miss Latimer interjected. "I believe I will leave you now, Miss Hale."
She rose from the settee and curtseyed to Mr. Bell.
It was with surprise, and not a little shock, when the police inspector approached from behind Mr. Bell and reached out to grasp the lady's upper arm as she began to walk away. Once again, the room quieted with the scene playing out before them.
"Unhand me at once, sir," hissed Miss Latimer.
"I'm afraid I cannot, miss. You will come with me," Mason replied as he nodded to Margaret, Mr. Bell following sedately behind. Before they exited the room, Mr. Bell took John aside and spoke close to his ear.
The look of alarm that spread across John's face baffled her, deepening her headache more as he made his way toward her. Hoping the young lady was right, Margaret lifted the glass once again to drink, so eager was she to rid herself of whatever it was that ailed her.
"No!" bellowed John, sending Margaret's head up in a jerk that worsened the throbbing pain in her head and made her cringe. By now, she was sure the entire room was once again focused on her, sending a blush across her face. As he reached her, he yanked the glass from her fingers, sending some of the fluid over the edge of the glass.
Lowering himself down on one knee, he asked, "Did you drink any of this, Margaret?" In what appeared to be desperation, she was left more confused than ever.
"No, not yet."
Everything about him seemed to relax with the deep exhale of his breath. "Thank goodness."
"Why? It's just a drink, John."
"No, it is not, Margaret." John shook his head. "It was poisoned, my love."
**Whoa! Thoughts??? Was the buildup all you hoped for?
So, "Reputations" has surpassed 2000 reads, and I'm absolutely speechless! This has been such an exciting ride, and I can't wait to finish it for my readers who have remained so loyal! I've had so much fun reading and responding to your feedback. Keep it coming! See you next chapter!**