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#my faith in your assurances and your subsequent retraction
redflannelsheets · 28 days
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#feeling extra melancholy tonight#all of my feelings and loneliness just simmering in the salty broth of my tears#yes I’m still melodramatic but to be fair we were both melodramatic and i think that’s why we were such good friends#or i think we were such good friends; perhaps I’m misremembering now#breathing in ​the miasma of retrospect i suppose#i can’t reduce it all to ‘one thing that hurts the most’#they’re interconnecting pieces—a glass jigsaw puzzle and no identifying pattern to help put it together#your requests for my patience and my endless store of it#your invitation and my fear it would be retracted#my faith in your assurances and your subsequent retraction#you said you only asked me because you were sad and lonely as though the potential hadn’t been dangled in front of me for years#this all sounds bitter i know but it’s really just me thinking out loud#because if I’m never going to get closure on any of this#i should be allowed to put my feelings somewhere they can be read at a later date#i would never think to email you any of this#for one it would make me look crazy—the woman who couldn’t take no for an answer!#clearly i took the ‘no’ and left you in the peace you so desperately wanted#but being ghosted after so long of being your pal and your confidant… well that hurts in a way i was never allowed to express#of course i still love you. i will never not love you#but you showed up in my dreams again last night#taunting me about all i cannot have#i know it’s my subconscious being a complete dick#and not really you#and then i got into it with him tonight about how i just have to accept this platonic life#most of the time i deal with it just fine. i have lots of hobbies as you know#hard to stay sad if you’re wrangling yarn and puzzling over reflexive verbs#but in the quiet hours i used to love so much#everything floods in#please forgive me my elaborate tag salads directed toward your unfillable absence#goodnight my darling dearest
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jade4813 · 4 years
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Like Moths to a Flame, Chapter 6
Fandom: North and South
Title: Like Moths to a Flame
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: John/Margaret
Synopsis: “I hope you realize that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over.“ Margaret decides to confront John about his unjust judgment of her character, but the two have always been drawn to each other, and things quickly get out of hand. In the aftermath, she agrees to marry him to satisfy propriety, but she cannot forget how ready he was to believe the worst of her. Can love survive without trust, or will the two find a way to work through the misunderstandings that have plagued their relationship from the start?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The air was cold, a slight spattering of snow drifting from the dreary gray sky, but John hardly noticed as he escorted Margaret across the yard in companionable silence. He strove to find a topic of conversation she might find sufficiently diverting, but his concerns about the state of Marlborough Mills plucked at his consciousness and gave him no measure of peace. She seemed to be content to leave him to his ruminations, and he appreciated her disinclination to rush into mindless prattle just to fill the silence.
As it happened, there was one topic that had lately begun preying upon his mind, and so he decided to address it in his usual forthright manner. “I’ve met with your friend, Mr Higgins,” he remarked, offering her his arm. He was gratified when she accepted it, and though he doubted she took particular note of it, his attention was diverted by the soft pressure of her hand. Would she always have such an effect upon him, to cast his orderly thoughts into disarray by a simple touch?
As he had hoped, her joyful expectation at this revelation was reflected in her eyes, which were brightened by the smile she turned his way. It made him almost regret the churlishness with which he had initially greeted her friend, embittered by the role the millworker had played in instigating the strike that had exacerbated Marlborough Mills’ precarious financial state.
His temper had gotten the better of him during their first interview, but he had subsequently calmed and asked after the man’s story, discovering that he had spoken the truth when he confessed he had taken in a dead man’s six children. Impressed by his reputation for honesty and hard work (and, if he was being honest, moved by his story), John had reconsidered his position and offered Higgins a position. Had he known that the other man had come to him on the advice of Miss Hale, he might have conquered his foul temper sooner – and he’d been left to wonder if such a circumstance had presented as a possibility in her own mind.
Attempting to keep his tone light and unaccusatory, he asked, “Did you encourage him to meet with me because you thought I would be swayed by your friendship?”
She looked surprised and replied in an arch tone, “Of course not. I would never presume to imagine that you cared so much for my opinion.”
“On the contrary. Your opinion matters to me a great deal.” Little did she know that her opinion was dearer to her than any other. How could she not know the effect she had on him? “But I do not have the luxury of considering sentiment in matters of business.”
A line of irritation marred her brow. “So you turned him away, then?”
“I did at first, but I checked after him and was assured he’s a hard worker, so I gave him a position. And he’ll keep it, so long as he keeps to his time and doesn’t let that brain of his get him into trouble.” She ducked her head, hiding her face beneath the brim of her hat as he continued, “I wanted you to understand that I have him a position based on his merit, not as a favor to you or as a consequence of our engagement.”
The hand on his arm stiffened, but she didn’t draw away. Her anger was evident in her voice, however, as she asked, “Were you afraid I would misunderstand and lord it over you, if I thought you had sought my favor?”
“No.” Drawing to a halt, he turned to look at her, waiting until her face was no longer obscured or turned away to continue. “I was afraid you would misunderstand and think you owed me your gratitude. I’m not looking for your thanks, Miss Hale. Nor do I want you to fear that any future disagreement between us will result in a retraction of my offer.”
To his relief, her pique faded as quickly as it had arisen, as she laughed lightly. “You’re confident we’ll have cause to disagree over the course of our marriage?” she asked teasingly.
Her smile begged an answering one from him in return as he replied, “I’m not often a betting man, but I’d be willing to bet on that.” She laughed again, the sound warming his heart in defiance of the winter weather.
The mood between them grew companionable once more as they continued on their way. They’d had no set purpose when they set off from his house, traveling generally in the direction of the shops. Although he was loathe to shatter this renewed sense of peace, he had still not broached the subject that had plagued his thoughts from the moment Higgins had confessed to the true architect of their interview. Taking the chance he would once again incur her wrath, he remarked mildly, “However, I was surprised that you encouraged him to meet with me. I know you think me too hard on my workers, determined to drive them into the ground.”
She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye but refused to rise to his provocation. “It is astonishing to me that we will be married soon and you still have so little understanding of my mind.”
John took a moment to carefully guide Margaret around a throng of people exiting a shop before he murmured, “I’d like to know your mind, if you’d let me. And your heart.”
“I keep neither hidden from you, though I suspect I think better of you than you think of me at present,” she acknowledged, lingering by a shop window to gaze inside at its wares. After a moment, she turned to him. “Tell me, Mr Thornton. I know I’m still unfamiliar to the ways of the North, but is it customary for grooms of Milton to present their brides with a gift?”
“I – yes,” he agreed, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. He had already begun to think on the matter of her wedding present, in fact, but he had not yet come to a decision on the matter.
“Then if you will indulge me, I have a request for my gift.” Undeterred by his slight frown, she continued, “We have both misunderstood and have thought the worst of each other. I ask that we put our misconceptions in the past and move forward together. You once had faith in me, in my character, I think. I wish you’d do so again.”
If only what she asked were so easy to give as a length of ribbon purchased in a shop, John would do so gladly. Glancing around to ensure they weren’t observed, he lowered his voice to prevent being overheard. “You want me to pretend I don’t know you love another? ‘Very much,’ I believe you said.” He had not intended to eavesdrop on her conversation with his mother earlier, but he had heard her admission as he’d entered the house, nevertheless.
She winced, and a shadow flickered across her face. “I do love him,” she admitted in a voice as soft as his own, “but I’m asking you to trust me when I say it’s not in the way you think.”
“Mar—Mis Hale, I’m a reasonable man. If you would explain the situation to me, I would—”
“If I explained the situation to you, there would be no need for faith.” Sliding her hand down his arm, she let her fingers linger of his – a gentle, pleading caress – before dropping her hand to her side. “If you have no faith in me, how could you ever trust me? Whatever disagreements we’ve had in the past, whatever circumstances have brought us to this moment, I do hope we can find contentment in our marriage. But I don’t think that will ever be possible, if you don’t trust me. If we don’t trust each other.” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she added, “Please, John.”
He didn’t know how to reply. How could trust be recovered, once it had been lost? But he could deny her nothing – certainly not when she looked at him as she was now – and so he gave her a short nod. “If it’s in my power to give you, it’s yours,” he agreed, the two turning their attention to more cheerful topics as they continued on their way.
Margaret was surprised to discover how much she genuinely enjoyed Mr Thornton’s company throughout the remainder of the afternoon. Over the course of their acquaintance, their relationship had been marked by the tumult of many conflicting emotions. It was almost strange to find now that his company brought her such measure of peace. Perhaps the shift in her attitude warranted further self-reflection, but she was wary of upsetting the temporary truce into which they had tacitly entered.
At the conclusion of their afternoon together, he offered to escort her home, but she asked him to return her to the mill, instead. She had realized her rudeness only belatedly and wished to make amends to Mrs Thornton, who was only acting in what she perceived to be the best interests of a child she adored. Margaret might be able to fault her for her assumptions and her opinions, but she could not fault the older woman for her devotion, or for being so protective of her only son.
Back in the mill yard, however, she found herself reluctant to return to the task of wedding her wedding, and so she lingered by his side, accompanying him back to his office. Though he could have sent her away, he did not, seemingly longing for her company as much as she desired his.
Once the door was closed behind her, however, she found herself at loose ends, uncertain how to behave in his company. It was not lost upon her that she had behaved most improperly on her last visit to his office.
To her relief, he was not similarly overwhelmed by recollections of the past, although his expression appeared distracted as he stepped behind his desk. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he began, choosing his words carefully. Even so, he was momentarily stymied in his attempts to continue. “Ah…how have you found your time in Milton so far?”
“My time in Milton?” she repeated, at a loss as to his meaning. If he could provide her any insight into his thoughts, it wasn’t forthcoming, so she ventured, “It has been difficult, at times, but I think I’m learning Milton’s ways. I believe – or, rather, I hope – I give less offense than I once did.”
“But what about the place?” he pressed. “Is there nowhere in Milton that you look upon in fondness? Nowhere that brings you joy?”
The more he spoke, the less she was able to comprehend his purpose. “I suppose…I enjoy my daily walks, though they’re only through the graveyard on the hill. I miss the beauty of the landscape in Helstone.”
By the twisting of his mouth, she suspected he was dissatisfied by her answer. “No, there is not much beauty to be found here,” he agreed in an abstracted tone.
“Perhaps if I understood why you’re asking, I could think of a more appropriate answer,” she suggested.
Rather than respond to her request, he pressed, “I wonder if there is anything – or, rather, any place – that has become dear to you in Milton? Is there nothing you would miss if you were to leave?”
You. The thought came so suddenly to mind that it left her confused and off-balance, and she turned away from him so he wouldn’t see her conflicted feelings. Was that really true? Since arriving in Milton, she had held fast to the conviction that there was little to tie her to this town. If she was forced to leave its gray, smoky landscape behind as abruptly as she’d arrived, she believed that there was little she’d need to excise from her heart. She would mourn the absence of her friends Nicholas and Mary, as she still mourned the loss of their beloved Bessie. She would miss them, she would write to them, but they alone did not have sufficient hold on her heart to either convince her to stay or to draw her back to this wretched place.
Surely John could hold no greater sway over her heart than her dearest friends could lay claim to. Closing her eyes, she attempted to gather her thoughts into some form of order. No, it wasn’t that Mr Thornton had such a great claim on her affections, although he certainly had lay claim to her hand. It was simply that Mr Thornton and Milton were so inextricably tied together in her mind that it was impossible to think of one without the other. Everything that could be said about this town – good and bad – was personified in him. Its coarse and terrible harshness. Its strength and awful beauty. Pride and ambition, warring with vulnerability and compassion.
Mr Thornton was Milton to her, for good or for ill. It wasn’t just her life that had undergone a dramatic change since her relocation to this Northern industrial town, it was her person, and he could claim as much credit for that alteration as the poverty and want she witnessed every day.
Margaret raised a trembling hand to brush a lock of hair off her face, more to have a momentary distraction from her thoughts than from a need to put any unkemptness to rights. “I suppose,” she ventured in an uneven tone, once again looking upon the mill yard with sightless eyes, “it would be here.” She could hardly confess to the direction in which her thoughts had turned, and claiming the mill seemed as good a deflection as any.
In fact, there was perhaps some underlying truth to her words. Though the memory of the riot was hardly a peaceful or welcome one, she believed her words had helped calm the situation, if only briefly. She had momentarily soothe the rioters’ tempers and, in doing so, had helped ensure the safety of the Irish workers locked in the mill. Since first arriving in Milton, she had tried to find ways to make herself useful, but that had been the first day that she’d truly felt of use.
“The mill?” he asked, astonishment evident in his voice. She turned to face him once more and felt her heart begin to pound at the warmth of his gaze. “Do you mean it?”
“Well, so much has happened here,” she conceded. “Both bad and – and good.” This is where the two of them had met, after all, albeit in less than auspicious circumstances.  Where she had first argued with him. It had been here at the mill that she had first seen Bessie, and their friendship was one she would treasure all her life. It was in his dealings with his workers that she had first begun to see Mr Thornton’s integrity. His honesty. His honor. And then, after a time, even his compassion for those under his care.
The mill had also been where she and John had shared their first, impetuous kiss, but if she dwelled too long on that memory, she thought she might die of mortification. Or, more perilously, of desire.
She had said enough. She should hold her tongue, lest her somehow discern the direction of her thoughts and ask questions of her that she was incapable of answering. He was still gazing at her with an enigmatic expression, and she found herself adding lamely before her voice trailed off into embarrassed silence, “It’s where I first met Bessie. I miss her.”
In response to her words, his eyes grew cold, his expression aloof once more, chilling her more completely than the merciless winter wind when it blew in from the North. “I see,” he replied in clipped tones, stepping away. As though they were tied by an invisible thread, she followed after him.
“Wait!” she blurted, staying his retreat. In her attempts to hide her thoughts from his view, she had caused offense and, she feared, had hurt him. “Please, do not misunderstand. Your friendship is very important to me.”
“My friendship.” He spoke the words more to himself than to her, as though mulling them over. As she watched, the storm that had overcome him seemed to fade away, although his emotions were obscured as he said, “Friends. Is that what we’ve been to each other?”
“I’d like to think so,” she agreed, though her mouth grew suddenly dry as he drew near. Reaching for her, he cupped the nape of her neck in his palm, his fingers tickling the bare, soft skin he found there as he drew her in for a kiss. It was the first embrace they had shared since her humiliating display of impropriety in her father’s sitting room.
Margaret had intentionally avoided any situation where the two might spend time alone in private, in order to resist temptation. Now that it had presented itself, however, she found herself its willing accomplice, gripping the front of his coat as she leaned in to his embrace.
Breaking off the kiss, John’s face remained inches from hers as he whispered, “My sweet Margaret, it seems we’re always talking at cross-purposes.”
She indulged in a cheeky grin in defiance of the serious subject as she replied, “It is worrisome that the only time we don’t seem to argue is when our mouths are otherwise occupied.”
His eyes widened at her unexpected boldness, but her efforts were rewarded when she heard his soft chuckle. “I suppose it’s one way to win an argument.”
“You’ll have to bear it in mind. It might be the only way you ever have an advantage over me,” she teased him, eliciting a laugh. It hadn’t taken her long in Milton to realize that laughter from the Master of Marlborough Mills was a rare sound, indeed. She treasured each occasion on which she’d managed to provoke him to such lightness of spirit.
His good humor remained as he pressed one more kiss against her lips. “Will we never come to understand each other?”
Margaret sighed in contentment, her head falling against this shoulder as she mused, “I suppose we have our entire lives together in which to try.”
She felt his breath against her cheek as he murmured, “I was asking because there’s something I’ve been meaning to give you. I hoped to find a more romantic spot for it than this, but—” His voice trailed off as she drew back and gasped when she saw him pull a ring out of his pocket. As unconventional as their engagement had been, she had never thought to expect a ring to mark the occasion.
Like the man who offered it, the ring was simple but beautiful. A table cut sapphire flanked by small pearls had been set into a delicate gold band. “I don’t have any family heirlooms to pass on, I’m afraid,” he admitted. “Those were…lost, long ago.” She understood immediately. Undoubtedly, he had been forced to sell them to pay for his family’s care and the debts his father had left behind following his suicide. “If the ring isn’t to your liking, I could have it reset into something more—”
“No,” she reassured him, extending her hand in silent invitation so that he could slide it on her finger. Its weight was unfamiliar, but the presence of it was a reminder of the way her life would soon change. The way it had already changed. It gave a strange sense of permanence to their engagement which was both daunting and oddly reassuring.
It would have perhaps been a logical moment for the two to exchange another kiss, but Margaret stayed where she was, and Mr Thornton made no move to bridge the gap between them. They had already shared one illicit embrace that day, and experience (in this very room, no less) indicated just how dangerous giving into temptation too many times could be.
Lost in her thoughts, she remarked, “It’s perfect. It reminds me of you. Of the day we met.” At his puzzled expression, she explained, “The sapphire matches your eyes, and the pearls remind me of the cotton in the air the first time I saw you. It was beautiful. Like snow.”
“I wouldn’t have thought the cotton would have been what drew your attention,” he admitted in a wry tone. But, of course, he undoubtedly believed their angry encounter was the first time she’d seen him. He didn’t yet know the truth.
“It wasn’t, during the, ah, incident. But first saw you a little before then, when you were looking over the workroom. I thought you looked very—” Handsome. She had thought him the most handsome man she had ever seen. “—forbidding.”
“An opinion that could hardly have been contradicted by our initial meeting,” he acknowledged. “There have been times I’ve wished I could go back to that day. Things might have been easier for us if I’d made a better first impression.”
She’d wondered something similar before, just as she’d wished she could go back in time and prevent their ill-fated meeting at the railroad station. But there was no benefit to brooding upon things that neither of them could change. “There’s no point in dwelling upon the past. We must look to the future.”
The ring on her finger glinted in the sunlight, an omnipresent reminder that the future they were destined to share together, lest she ever be tempted to forget.
Following that pleasant afternoon spent in Mr Thornton’s company, Margaret did not see him again for several days. She continued to work with his mother to finalize wedding plans, neither woman broaching the subject of their former disagreement. Then one evening, with the wedding less than a fortnight away, Margaret received confirmation she had awaited with equal measures of anticipation and dread.
She was not with child.
How would Mr Thornton respond to this revelation? She could not in good conscience keep it from him, not when his proposal had stemmed from a sense of honor that, it turned out, was misplaced. Uncertain how her news would be received, she put off telling him for as long as she could, but finally, she came to terms with the knowledge that she had no other choice.
It was with a heavy heart that she prepared to step out into the cold winter weather, to make the long walk to the mill to see him. Strictly speaking, meeting with him in private was still not entirely proper, although they were engaged. However, society was often willing to extend a measure of grace to couples who had already entered into a formal agreement, in a way they would never do for the unattached.
Her imagination played havoc with her nerves for the entire walk to his office, the Mr Thornton that existed in her own mind embracing every reaction from elation to scorn. It was unlikely that the Mr Thornton that existed in flesh and blood would indulge in either such extreme, but her mind insisted upon pondering each scenario in turn, nonetheless.
When she let herself into his office, however, she did not find him hard at work, as she’d anticipated. Instead, his head lay upon his desk, his hands stretched out on either side. Her discarded scarf was trapped under one hand, one end trailing over the edge of the desk to fall upon the floor. His coat had been discarded, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He had fallen asleep in his chair, exhausted by the relentless work that occupied both his days and – more and more frequently, of late – his nights.
Something in the general region of her heart twisted as she gazed upon his features, peaceful and soft in repose. She was accustomed to seeing his expression in studious contemplation, in the throws of anger, set in determination, when overwhelmed by desire. This was the first time she had seen him look so at peace.
She was tempted to leave him be, to back out of the room in silence to allow him a few more moments of rest. However, she also longed to touch him, this man who would soon be hers. Reason warred with desire, and desire won. Compelled to reach for him, she extended one hand to brush the hair off his forehead with a tenderness she didn’t dare show him in his waking hours.
His eyes fluttered open at her touch, his gaze hazy and unfocused and a smile softening the edges of his face as he sat up. “Margaret. Is this a dream?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she replied softly, her hand cupping his cheek.
He sighed, leaning into her embrace, the harsh scrape of his stubble scraping gently against her palm. She watched as he slowly came to awareness, shedding the last vestiges of sleep, as his expression grew more guarded and withdrawn.
Finally, he pulled away and stood. “Miss Hale, I apologize. I was indisposed when you came in.”
Embarrassed that he had caught her in a tender moment, she muttered a soft reassurance, stepping around the desk to give him more space as he pulled himself together. “I didn’t mean to come by unannounced. There’s something I – I need to tell you.” Sucking in as deep a breath as she could manage around her corset, she linked her fingers so that they might not forget their place again so soon and confessed, “I’m not with child.”
At her words, he grew so still, she might have thought he was a statue, except she could see that his mind was working furiously in the tumult of emotions behind his eyes. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
An awful silence full of unspoken things fell between them once again. Mr Thornton busied himself by continuing to set himself to rights. As he shrugged into his coat, he asked, “Will you cry off the engagement, then?”
In her previous flight of fancy, she had imagined several possible responses to her confession. That he might ask this single, simple question with an attitude of such quiet calm had not entered into her musings. “Do you want me to cry off?” she asked, astonished by the turn of their conversation.
He wouldn’t look at her, busying himself with straightening the cravat he’d hastily tied a few moments earlier. “I don’t want to force you into marriage against your will. I know crying off might damage your reputation, however, so I have no objection to letting it be known that you were the one to put an end to our agreement.”
It hadn’t gone unnoticed that he’d avoided her question, and she was unwilling to let him off the hook so easily. Crossing her arms over her chest, she demanded, “But is that what you want, John?”
At the sound of his given name, his eyes darted to her face, and she was strangely relieved to see that his outward calm was not reflected in their blue depths. “My desires are unchanged,” he admitted in a hoarse voice. “But I’ll not blame you for crying off. You might be wise to do so. The truth is, the financial situation at the Mills is…precarious. We have enough to cover payroll. For now. I had hoped to keep our circumstances secret a while longer, in the hopes that I might find a solution that resolves our problems without anyone else ever discovering how bad things have gotten. However, if you wish to cry off, I’ll not contest that you have cause.”
Although her father had intimated his suspicions that the strike had put strain on the mills, Margaret was surprised to learn of the extent of the damage. “Are things really so bad?”
Mr Thornton sighed. “Although I wish I could promise you a secure future, I cannot. I can only swear that, if you still wish to be my wife, I will care for you to the best of my ability.”
Knowing what she did of his past, she didn’t doubt that capacity was great indeed. Still, she was not unconscious of the depths of his sacrifice in extending her such an offer. Mr Thornton was a private man, particularly in matters concerning his business. It would be a blow to his pride for his financial straits to be made public, for him to be viewed as incapable of caring for a wife to the extent that the shame of a broken engagement was her only reasonable recourse. But for her, he would do it. Without question.
“That won’t be necessary,” she reassured him, her voice thick with emotion but surprisingly firm, resting her hand over his so the gold of his engagement band glinted in the candlelight. “I have made you a promise. The circumstances that prompted our engagement might have changed, but my resolve hasn’t. I will marry you, gladly—” Gladly? Where had that come from? Willingly, she would have understood, but gladly? “If you’ll still have me.”
She saw the muscles in his jaw flex as he swallowed heavily, reaching up to capture her hand in his own. He appeared to struggle to find the words, finally managing to say, “It would be my honor.”
Their emotional intimacy was more than Margaret had expected, and it was certainly more than she was prepared to deal with at present. She was finding it increasingly difficult to comprehend their situation. Although they hadn’t spoken of Frederick since their stolen afternoon together, she held no illusions that he had yet found it in his heart to forgive her, let alone to trust her. His lack of faith in her character was one reason she was firm in her conviction that his proposal had not stemmed from an excess of sentiment.
And yet…he treated her with uncommon tenderness, which often seemed so at odds with her brusque persona. That he desired her, there could be no question. However, his attitude toward her seemed to extend beyond physical longing – or even honorable obligation. Without his trust, she couldn’t possibly have his love, could she? Did she even want it? Her own feelings for him were still too conflicted for her to be certain, one way or another.
Pulling her hand from his, she stepped back, increasing the distance between them until she was nearly to the door. Under the circumstances, she couldn’t afford to allow herself to believe in the fiction that their present engagement was anything more than an act of honor, even if the fear that had prompted it had proved to be fruitless. “I should go. It isn’t proper for me to be alone with you like this,” she told him, although they had skirted the bounds of propriety before.
He didn’t protest. However, he drew her attention one more time, before she could escape. “Miss Hale.” When she turned to look at him over her shoulder, he said simply, “Thank you.”
Margaret frowned at him. “I don’t seek your gratitude any more than you wish for mine.”
He was unmoved by her argument. “Nevertheless, you have it.”
Her hand resting on the door, she regarded him in silence for a moment before saying, “We are in this together, Mr Thornton. For better or for worse. If we cannot depend upon each other for kindness and understanding, then who may we rely upon?”
Concerned that her tongue would further betray her innermost feelings if she remained, she slipped out the door and rushed out of the mill, eager to return to the safety of her father’s house. Knowing it wouldn’t be her home for much longer.
If her feelings for her fiancé were this complicated now, how much more of a mess would they be in once he became her husband?
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freelancesumandas · 5 years
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Want to settle your divorce? Follow these steps
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Divorce Lawyers in Houston: When you first hear the word divorce your mind probably cuts to a courtroom where two people are lobbing insults and accusations at each other about a wide array of subjects. Movies and television have done a great job of providing us this sort of image of the American divorce and what it looks like. While some divorces do end up proceeding into courtroom antics like this the vast majority in Texas do not.
Most Texas divorces settle before the inside of a courtroom is ever seen. What separates the settled cases from the litigated cases is more than just facts and circumstances, however. A lot of times the approach of the parties has as much to do with it as anything else. If you can approach your divorce with the mindset that you are going to work every day towards a settlement of your divorce case it is likely that you will achieve that goal.
Today’s blog post from the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC will detail some pieces of advice that our attorneys have to provide you with a leg up in attempting to settle a divorce case well before the need to go to court.
Set your pride to the side and initiate decent settlement offers
I have worked as a family law attorney for a number of years and in my experience it happens on occasion that very weak settlement offers will be made in order to test the waters and see what a person may be willing to accept early on in the case. Another motivation for doing so may be that you do not want to appear weak or overly willing to submit yourself to the negotiation process. After all, if you are negotiating from a position of strength why concede anything to your opposing party.
If you have this mindset heading into your divorce I can almost assure you that your case will sit for a good while until either you or your opposing party come forth with a decent settlement offer. The fact is that at different stages of a divorce your settlement offer could be received differently. By trying to appear strong in negotiations you could be missing out on a golden opportunity to settle your case. There are no guarantees that the opportunity will present itself again.
There is no shame in being the party that approaches the other in an attempt to settle the divorce. Your attorney will help you to ensure that you are not conceding too much in your settlement offer.
Negotiate in a forward looking position
Suppose that you make a settlement offer to your opponent in the area of your property division. The offer is rejected and a counter offer is received that is not at all close to yours. At this stage you have your ends of the spectrum and you can now seek to move yourself a little closer to your opponent.
Instead of attempting to move closer to your opponent in your counter offer, you go the other way and make an offer that is more likely to be denied. While it is unfair to say that it is never a good idea to retract a prior settlement offer and issue a new offer, these circumstances do not present themselves all that often.
The general rule of negotiation that I follow is that once a proposal is made to your opposing party, each subsequent offer must attempt to bring the parties closer together. To negotiate in the way I described above would be negotiating “backwards”. In affect you are punishing your spouse by rejecting their counter offer and then moving yourself further away, thus causing a settlement to become more and more less like. Your good faith offer can always be rejected, but you should not seek to punish the other party for doing so. If you operate in good faith and your spouse does as well there is a high likelihood that a settlement can be reached eventually.
Be willing to negotiate
Houston Family Law Attorney: You may be of the opinion that your spouse is the most hard-headed and difficult person on this planet, and as a result any attempts to settle with him or her will likely be fruitless. Having this mindset will cause you to retreat into your separate corners where only the bell of litigation will free you. If your fair offer is met with rebuke then you should simply stop negotiating prior to making a counter-offer. By issuing a bad counter offer you are falling into their trap and you will find yourself inside of a courtroom as a result.
Mediation is a formal settlement negotiation where parties come together and negotiate with the assistance of a third party mediator. This is where the distance between you and your spouse can be closed due to the nature of the negotiation session. You all have the ability to sit in close proximity to one another for all day in some cases. Time is your friend. Odds are decent that if you give your spouse time to consider your offers, the gap between your positions will lessen.
Do not get frustrated or angry at a settlement proposal
If you are offered something in negotiations do not take it as an affront to your character if it does not seem to be fair or evenhanded. Your spouse is likely working out their own strategy in how to present issues to you. It could also be the case where your spouse is making offers that you believe to be absurd because he or she has a mistaken belief about a central issue about your case.
Usually people do not make “low ball” offers out of a spirirt of discord, but rather due to their testing the waters to see how you will react. If you maintain your composure and understand that negotiations may last for months your chances to avoiding a courtroom battle increase a great deal.
Prepare an initial settlement offer with your attorney
Just because a settlement proposal may be informal does not mean that you shouldn’t put a lot of thought into it. Meet with your attorney prior to your making a settlement offer to learn about the issues of your case and what a reasonable offer looks like as a result. What may seem reasonable to you as a lay person may not be all that reasonable from the perspective of an attorney. Talk to your lawyer to see what is reasonable and how you can incorporate reason into your settlement proposals.
While in most situations it is advisable to settle your case rather than to proceed to the unknown (i.e. a bench trial), sometimes the settlement offers you receive are so bad it is not a terrible idea to roll the dice and proceed to trial. If you display a willingness to take the risk of going to trial your opponent may wise up and make legitimate settlement offers. Either way, don’t lose your cool. Work with your attorney and at all times be respectful to your spouse. You never know when a solid offer will be made and when it is you need to be ready to either accept or make a reasonable counter-offer.
Questions about settling a divorce case? Contact the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC
Houston Family Lawyers: The attorneys with the Law Office of Bryan Fagan, PLLC work tirelessly on behalf of our clients. If you are interested in learning how we can assist you in your family law case please contact us today. We offer free of charge consultations six days a week with our licensed family law attorneys. There is no case too big or too small for our attorneys to help you with. Thank you for your time and consideration ... Continue Reading
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