Page 18 of Indecent Desires of a Proper Lady
“So we shall. You enjoy our gardens, do you not?”
They left the room, and wandered back to the garden area, pushing through the large glass doors that led out to the ground. Margaret’s lady’s maid had brought her bonnet and then wandered slowly far behind them.
“I do. They remind me of my childhood. I often wish I was back in that time, so uncomplicated, so pure and innocent.”
“I agree with you heartily. Life has brought with it its own brand of cruelty. I miss the time when I was just an angry eight-year-old, unaware of the world and what it held.”
Philip laughed. “As do I. You were quite entertaining, Margaret. And I was merely a fool, a mind full of fencing.”
“Is it not still full of fencing?” she smiled.
“Oh, so it is, but now there are more adult matters to fill its space, unfortunately. Perhaps I should hurry to the Navy faster, so that I can send myself out onto the sea and forget about all that concerns me.”
“Will it be right away, that you would leave?” Margaret watched him curiously, and Philip’s heart told him that it was for her own sake that she’d asked.
“Oh, I do not know. It would be up to the office. I assume they would wish me to begin as soon as possible.”
“I see.” Margaret sighed.
“Would that be so terrible, Margaret?” Philip teased. “Would you miss me?” At the sight of her expression, Philip instantly regretted his words.
But she calmed quickly, “There are so few people who understand me that I would hate to lose such a kindred spirit. I am sorry I did not know you well enough before, while you seem to know me a great deal.”
“Well, I did not know that you were an accomplished painter. You will have to point out which of the paintings in the house are yours.”
Margaret laughed, and Philip couldn’t help smiling himself as he watched her lovely profile.
“I think you will be able to spot them easily next to the more accomplished works.”
“I doubt that very much.” They walked deep into the gardens, passing by the trellises of ivy and patches of strawberries.
“I love the summertime. There always seems to be so much life, the birds always singing, the wind always bringing its fresh scent. Even so near the city, I feel as if I am in the middle of the countryside.”
Philip nodded, watching her as she bent down to pick a strawberry from the bush and pop it into her mouth. He knew it was unseemly to stare, but he was entranced by the shape of her mouth, and the way her lips curled up into a smile as she ate.
“These are lovely. I cannot wait until cook makes strawberries and cream cake. One of the delights of summer I should be very sad to go without.”
Philip coughed, attempting to set himself to rights again.
They wandered past a tiny frog pond, and Margaret knelt again. “Did you know this was one of my favorite spots as a child? I could stare at the pond for hours, wishing I was small enough to fit inside it.”
She chuckled and dipped her fingertips into the cool, greenish water. Margaret looked to him like a water faerie, the dark hair glistening which had escaped from under her bonnet, and her eyes bright. He dipped his hand into the pond as well, watching the ripples erupt on the surface.
“Well, this seems to be a miniature version of the one at your north country estate.”
“Yes, I could perhaps act out my fantasies there. What is it like to swim? Tell me.”
She turned to him, blinking with patience, and he said, “I should think you would like it very much. It is like being caressed softly and gently. You are totally enveloped by lovely, fresh coolness. It is almost as if you feel that when you emerge again, you are cleansed of all impurities.”
Margaret made a satisfied sound in her throat. “That sounds very nice indeed. A cleansing. I should like that. I wonder how I could learn. I shall have to find someone to assist.”
He knew it was untoward, but Philip wished he could present himself as her teacher. The thought of Margaret’s lovely form totally submerged in water and then rising again in the sunlight, droplets cascading from her lovely head down her soft, pale skin. The image made his whole body come alive, his blood thrumming through him, and he stood, feeling overwhelmed by the thought of her.
When he spoke, he thought he could hear his voice straining and choked, and it annoyed him. “Yes, you shall have to go with someone. You would not wish to endeavor to tackle the lake on your own for your first time.”
Margaret stood, watching Philip curiously. Was his face betraying his inner thoughts? “Shall we return to the house, Philip?”
He nodded and Margaret led the way, and he fell into pace beside her, wishing his mind would allow him some respite from thoughts of her. He wanted to be able to focus, to form sentences.
