Page 37 of Indecent Desires of a Proper Lady
Chapter Sixteen
Philip had kissed many women, too many to remember, but this was another thing entirely. If he had any doubt about his long-lasting regard for Margaret, then after feeling her teasing lips on his, any doubt was washed away. He was flooded with an even greater love and affection than he had known. Margaret was the one he wanted, and it appeared that she wanted him too.
During their time together, she spoke to him openly, kindly. Her blushes and flirtations did not go unnoticed. She had taken him to her secret place, which no one else knew about. As they lingered inside, Margaret stepped closer to him as he stepped closer to her.
So, dizzy with love and a desire to have her in his arms, Philip had kissed her. It was a bold move, but he did not regret it. Margaret fell into his kiss, and when he gently opened his mouth a little, she responded in turn, sighing against him.
His hands begin to move down her back, and they ended at her thin waist. His whole body reacted, when Margaret boldly deepened the kiss and pulled his neck down with her hands. His body felt like it was going to burst, sparks were moving about from place to place, and a heat settled in his core which would dangerously be evident soon enough by a lift in his breeches.
He wanted her more and more. The taste of her lips was heavenly, even better than he had ever hoped, and he could not let go of them. His tongue moved forward, and by gentle prodding, Margaret allowed him entry, and their tongues fought for who could savor the other more. His heat was building, and the need for her was yawning before him. It was growing ever more dangerous, even though they were entirely alone. But then, Margaret made the tiniest of moans into his mouth as she gripped onto the lapels of his jacket, and he had to pull away, breathless.
“Philip,” she touched her lips and stepped back a little, looking a little shamefaced. “Is there something wrong?”
Philip was breathless, and he watched her checking for signs of disgust or concern, but they were not there. It was merely surprise which controlled her features. And so, his heart pumping wildly, he plunged into his speech.
He shook his head and smiled. He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Not at all, Margaret. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything right, and I feared that the kiss would make me lose all sense of control when this is not the time or space, and there is something I must say to you.”
Her relief was evident on her face as she nodded and waited patiently for him. He did not release her hand.
“Margaret. You must forgive me if I took a liberty, but I need to ask you a question. But first, allow me to tell you of my love, a love that has been rather long standing, for many years in fact. It has never swayed, even though I had been disappointed in the return of your affections.”
Margaret’s face flushed, and she watched him still, that same look of surprise not moving from her face. “Why did you never say anything? I never knew of your long-harbored affection.”
Philip smiled. “Surely, my regard lately was much more pronounced.”
“Yes. I thought so, but I did not feel like I wished to be vain enough to suspect. But you still have not said why you kept this from me for so many years.”
“You know this already. Your affection for Charles. It was known. I did not think my suit would have any success. But now, I do hope that it is quite different, for,” he paused and knelt down in front of her. “I wish to ask you to marry me. Marry me and make me the happiest of men. It would be my great honor.”
He waited as she watched him with her lovely blue eyes, and her lips curled up at the corners. “You are quite right about Charles. I spent many years foolishly thinking of him as the man of my affections. I had hoped he would care for me, as I for him, but once you returned to us, something changed.”
Philip’s heart waited patiently. It began to beat hopefully as her smile grew.
“With Charles, I felt only nervous and unworthy. I felt bitterness after so many years, and my affection ended. It is not love I feel for him or ever felt for him. Now I feel only frustration at myself and my own foolishness.”
She touched Philip’s hand to help him stand. Philip looked down at her touch, and his mouth opened a little as he waited to hear the words he had hoped to hear for so long.
“But you, Philip Winston have been kind and gentle. With you, I feel empowered and strong. I feel as if I can do anything in the world. That is what love should be. I have grown to care for you as I never thought possible again.” He smiled, and she smiled at him. “Yes, I shall marry you.”
Philip felt lighter than air, and he grabbed Margaret to him, swirling her around in his arms in their private space. When he put her back down to the ground, dizzy with spinning and merriment, he looked into her eyes.
“Then, take this ring as a token of my affection.” He slid it onto her finger, and Margaret gasped.
“Philip, it is lovely.”
“It was my grandmother’s, and I wish to give it to you now as a symbol of my love.” Without saying anything, Margaret kissed him again, and Philip put his hands on her face, feeling the satisfaction of finally achieving his goal, the thing he wanted most in love, to be loved and accepted in return by Margaret Whitfield. What could get in their way now?
* * *
Margaret wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, but all she knew was that she had followed her heart when she’d accepted Philip. When he asked her to marry him, told her of his ardent love, her heart had swelled and drifted into the heavens, and she knew her answer even before he had asked her.
It was yes. Yes. One million times yes. Even if she wasn’t sure of the future, she knew that in this moment, she wanted Philip for her own. And as he twirled her around in his strong arms, she felt that this was the pinnacle of happiness, and she would be amazed if she could ever find more.
His kiss, so firm and passionate, had opened a floodgate in her and confirmed the warm, pleasant feelings she noticed in the last weeks when thinking about him. Now that he was so close, and his lips touched hers, she wanted him in body as well. She had read of it in poetry, seen it in art. It would be the most beautiful and blissful thing in the world to be connected as one with Philip, and she gripped onto his coat and his neck so that she could savor him, kiss him deeper, and show him the passion she felt.
He pulled back though, from his kiss, and she could tell that there was passion waiting for them, waiting for her behind closed doors, after the bonds of matrimony. It only fueled her excitement and anticipation.
“You have made me so happy, Margaret. I cannot express to you properly, I am afraid. You are the more mellifluous one.” He smiled, and Margaret’s heart fluttered at the sight. Was love always like this? Heart-pumping, glorious feelings? As if a butterfly lived in one’s chest?
