As the days passed, James and Margaret grew bolder. They would sneak and kiss whenever there was no one to see them. Dame Martha had send them a telegram saying she would return directly to the country house, so they didn't need to worry about her. Soon, kissing was not enough, but James didn't want to push Margaret, he didn't want her to think he was taking profit of her. James wasn't his brother, and he wanted her to know that. So, even if he didn't want anything more than to make love to her, he restrained himself. Margaret could see that, and she appreciated it. Yet, she was making him wait because she wanted to do things under her own terms.
Margaret's birthday was in the middle of the summer. James demanded the kitchen servants to prepare something special, although nothing too sumptuous. It was Miss Margaret's birthday, and he wanted to honor her for the help she had been to his lady mother, he told them. It was a frugal dinner, delicious, but not too exotic. James insisted on opening a select bottle of wine, and although Margaret politely refused, he opened it anyway. They stayed in the balcony sitting next to each other, watching the sunset.
-Thank you, James, it has been the best birthday.
-It is not over yet.
-I know.- she smiled.
Margaret went downstairs to the kitchen, as she did every day, to bid farewell to the workers and discuss the menu for the following day. She next closed the main gates. When she went back to the balcony, James had fallen asleep. She kissed him on his tanned forehead, nose, and finally on the lips. He woke up and responded eagerly. Margaret stopped and took him by the hand. She lead him to his bedroom.
-It is past time we do something we have both been waiting for.
With a swift movement she took out her dress, revealing her bare skin. James drank her with his eyes, still not believing it was real. He must have stayed staring for a long time, because Margaret complained.
-So, are you going to get naked or not?
There was urgency in her voice, making him hurry to undress. He didn't do it as gracefully as she had, but, even if Margaret had already seen him in a swimsuit, the effect was similar.
-I thought you were in a hurry.- he joked.
She jumped at him and took control. As before, their bodies fit perfectly. He caressed her freckled skin, afterwards, wondering once again, why that fantastic woman had chosen him.
They slept little during the remaining of the summer. Days were for pretending, nights were for love. And it all was drawing to an end.
"If you love me, meet me at the train station". Of course, he loved her.
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