He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

As she gazed out at the sea her thoughts became clear.  She would leave as soon as she could pack her meager belongings.  Margaret had been born and raised in Wales and would miss it terribly, but not the town.  It held too many sad memories.  She spat into the wind and cursed her dead Father.  Long may his soul rot in hell, for all she cared.

Life in the Williams' household held only bad memories for her, ones she chose to forget.  Her Father had been a carpenter, and a good one, but his love of drink had ruined their lives.  The meager earnings he made was quickly consumed in drink, and Margaret was left with only enough to put food on the table and pay the monthly rent on the tiny cottage.  When he chose, he beat her, and then when he sobered up the next day he would plead with her to forgive him.  As to dating, that too was put to a test.  Any young lad, who was brave enough to ask for a date, was quickly put on the spot and driven away with harsh words to never return.  If she was ever to have a life of her own now was the time to do it.

Margaret stood and walked backwards away from the water.  Angrily she shook her fist at the sea and shouted at the top of her lungs.

"David John Williams!  If you can hear me, got to hell and stay there!" Fresh tears filled her eyes as she looked out at the sea for the last time

* * * * * * * *

He looked at her and frowned.  Obviously the girl had no place to stay, and he couldn't just leave her stranded, not after what she had done.  His son seemed to take to her, and to tell the truth, he rather liked her him- self.  She was very beautiful, and terribly young.  Her face was a vision unto itself, and her body was a delight to behold.  He couldn't help but notice how full and voluptuous her breasts were beneath the thin wet material of her blouse.  Her dark brown hair lay in ringlets around her face and fell well below her shoulders.  He found himself blushing as the girl watched him intently surveying her person.  He coughed discreetly clearing his throat.

"I know this may sound a bit forward, but I would like you to accompany me, my son and Nanny Booth back to the house.  Its the least I can do, for heavens sake!  After all, you did save my son's life!”  Margaret started to protest when the Nanny broke into the conversation.

"Yes, I think that would be very nice Master MacFarland.  Cook would welcome another at the table.”  She noticed the puzzled expression on Margaret's face and quickly continued.  "Master MacFarland's home is near- by and I think you need to get out of those wet things before you catch your death.”  Nanny Booth turned to her Master.  "That is, if its alright with you Sir."

* * * * * * * *

Jamie couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked.

He watched the pair for awhile then turned away from the window.   Jamie was shocked at this sudden turn of feelings he was having about the girl.  He remembered the day in the park when she had let the blanket fall to the ground, how her wet blouse had clung to her body.

Shaking his head in disgust, Jamie went over to the drink trolley and poured himself another stiff shot of whiskey.  He was ashamed of himself for thinking such sensual thoughts!  After all, he had only known her for less than three weeks, and he must remember, she was a part of his house- hold staff, not a part of his social life.

Margaret was not aware of Jamie.  She was having the time of her life playing fetch with old Dingle.  After a bit she sat down on a flat stone to rest, and the dog came to lie at her side.  She watched the thickening clouds and wondered if she might not be better off in the house.  It looked like it was going to rain buckets any moment now.  Just as she stood up the rain began to fall.  Margaret started to run.  She made it safely inside just before the heavy bit came pouring down.