Dorcas stood back from the mirror and let her brown eyes flick from her face down to her body. She never thought herself beautiful or even good looking. To her beauty didn't mean alot. People's true looks came from inside their heart and that was all that mattered to the Post Mistress. The moons glow from the open window caught in the glow on the soft yellow candle flame that caused the room to erupt in a soft light that bounced off Dorcas' pale skin. On her curvy body was a silk green dress that was laced with silver ribbons and threads. Dresses meant alot to Dorcas Lane. She loved her little luxuries and without them her life wouldn't be complete. She grew up in the thrill of a Candleford life and without it she fear that her mind might fall apart. Her soft brown curls of hair were pulled into a tight bun though a few strands had escaped down her slender neck. Tonight Timothy was to take her out for dinner and oddly enough Dorcas Lane found herself to be nervous. The floor had been paced on for nearly most day and before she knew it night had fallen and Timothy was waiting for her downstairs.

Maybe it was all a little too much. She had dressed herself up a little too richly and a large amount of her neck was showing. Dorcas Lane was a lady; no matter how much she teased or flirted her pride came first. Once again she spun around slowly and watched her reflection as her soft dress floated around her legs and her hair twisted in the small breeze she made. She stopped. She stared. "What on earth am I doing?" Even she couldn't ask that question. Dorcas didn't really know what she was doing or even why this was happening but it couldn't be that bad, she was just going out for dinner with an old friend, nothing more and nothing less. It was then that light footsteps and a knock on her door pulled her, awoke her, from her little day dream. "Yes? Come in."

In the now open door way stood Laura Timmins. She was a young girl trying to act the young woman. Her long red hair flowed down her back and in her hand was a worn, and slightly broken, brown leather book. Ah, yes, both she and Dorcas had a little passion for books, for reading. Dorcas watched Laura many times as she went out on her rounds. The girl seemed to have a spirit that couldn't be broken by man or woman and how Dorcas envied it. No matter what people thought, no matter what they said about Dorcas being a strong woman they didn't know that deep down Dorcas was nothing more than a lost soul. "Laura." Dorcas looked at the strong willed red head from over her shoulder before she spun around and flaunted off her new dress. "How does it look? I pray it isn't too much. I don't want to overdo it and make myself look the fool."

"Mrs. Lane you are speaking in the wrong." Laura now started to walk around her career and took in the patterns to the dress, each strand of lace, silk and thread before her light eyes wondered up to Dorcas' hair. "You look wonderful, as always. No doubt Sir Timothy will have the thrill of taking you out. He does seem more content then he used to be. Even before he moved to London."

It was true. All in all Timothy was relaxed and alot more at home without his wife around. Dorcas paused in thought but Laura's hands that feel onto her hair once again pulled her back into reality.

"Maybe you could put this down for tonight, Mrs. Lane?" Laura's fingers pulled out a few strands of hair from the tight bun and stood back. The Post Mistress always looked that little bit prettier when her long hair was flowing down her back. Laura thought her career a very beautiful woman and it shocked her, no matter how independent Mrs. Lane made herself out to be, that some man like Sir Timothy hadn't swept her off to some romantic location and married her without a second thought.

"Laura. It's only young ladies, such as yourself that have the right to let their luxurious, wild hair flow down their backs. We older women are meant to keep their weak, limp hair up high on their heads."

"I'm not taking no for an answer, ma'am." Laura was quick to pull the pin from Dorcas' head and soon enough nothing but curls of dark brown cascaded down Mrs. Lane's back. She seemed another person. She seemed to be young in looks and personality. "There. You look beautiful." A soft brush was gently run down Dorcas' hair till Laura stood back to look over her handy work. "Oh. Mrs. Lane. You look a picture."

Dorcas watched her reflection in the mirror for a few moments more. It was true she did look rather nice but as she said, she didn't see herself as beautiful at all. "Well, you have a gift, Laura. My hair as never looked better."

"I do try, ma'am. Now, Sir Timothy is still waiting on you."

"Oh yes! The poor man, I've left him all alone. I will go to him now." Dorcas quickly bid Laura goodnight. Her long dress whipped around her heels as she walked rapidly across the wooden flooring and then down the little staircase. Once getting to the bottom her dainty face burst into a wide smile. Timothy himself stood at the end of the staircase with a handful of pure red roses in his hand. He too was smiling, his dull eyes flicked over her body, her amazing face. He'd never seen her with her hair down before but he liked it. How he really did miss the ways and wonders of Dorcas Lane.

"Dorcas, you look like a dream."

"Why, thank you Timothy. You have Laura to thank for the hair, she is rather good at it, I must say. She is a fine girl."

"Like I said, you look a dream. And the hair just adds to that pretty face of yours, Mrs. Lane."

Dorcas rolled her eyes and took up the flowers that Timothy passed her. Her nose went to the soft petals which she smelt. The soft aroma filled her nostrils with a happy sigh. Flowers. Another weakness. "Thank you, Timothy. They are wonderful. I shall get Minnie to put them into the best vase I own."

The maid herself turned up at the mention of her name.

"Oh! Mrs. Lane. Ya look like a Princess. A Queen even!" The dizzy maid bowed down as low as she could before stumbling to one side. "I see still need to work on that I think."

"Minnie. Will you put these in the vase for me?" Dorcas quickly passed the red roses over. "Try not to break it; it's the best one I own."

"Of course, Mrs. Lane. I won't break it at all, Mrs Lane. They'll look lovely on the table. Just like you, Mrs. Lane!"

"Minnie!" Dorcas' face twisted and her soft eyes glared at the young maid. "Just go and put the roses in the vase."

"Yes, Mrs. Lane."

After the maid had run off with the roses gently cradled in her arms Dorcas sighed and looked up to Timothy. "I must apologise. She can be...a handful."

"Like I said, I find her rather amusing. She is a fun girl. Now, how about this dinner then? I know even you couldn't pass the chance for a free meal." Timothy extended his arm to her which Dorcas looped hers around. The contact between them was perfect. Dorcas' perfume that was dotted on her neck wove into the air and washed over Timothy's face. She even smelt wonderful.

...

The two of them walked slowly, each of them sneaking little glimpses of each other. It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and the light crept around the little town of Candleford to give it an almost eerie look. Shadows of trees could be seen as they swayed in the gentle breeze and on the branches sat night birds that sung out to the stars. How still everything seemed for the both of them.

"What a night for a lovely dinner." Timothy looked down to Dorcas who flashed him an almost childish smile. He took her through the town itself and then out on the little track that wound off to Larkrise. The Post Mistress had expected for the old squire to take her out to the Golden Lion. But no, it seemed her gentleman...her friend...had other plans up his sleeve. It was as if he was trying to impress her, not that Dorcas needed it.

"Now, Timothy." Dorcas leant her head against her friends arm as they walked slowly together down the stone covered track. "Where are you taking me? I know you, I know that look, and you're up to something."

"Can you not just trust me? Just for one night?"

"I can never be too sure, not with you around."

Timothy chuckled yet said nothing as they walked further down the lane. In the distance was a burst of light and the sound of the small river filled Dorcas' ears as it trickled over rocks and pebbles. Her eyes caught Timothy's which beamed brightly in the moon light. Now his hand had hers as he pulled her off the track and down a small hill to the river bank itself.

"Oh...Timothy."

Dorcas' hand lay over her chest as she looked at the scene before her own eyes. On the ground, by the river bank, was a blanket that had food of all types laid on it. Candles were placed into the trees and on the grassy floor. How wonderful it all looked yet Dorcas thought it a little too much. She couldn't help but think Timothy was trying just a little too hard to impress her. It seemed he forgot that he was still married to a wife and he also had a daughter, a young daughter.

"You shouldn't have done this, it's too much."

Timothy really wasn't taking no for an answer. He practically pulled Dorcas onto the blanket and grabbed a bottle of champagne that was resting in a bucket of white ice. "You, of all people, need a little treat. And me, being the gentleman I am, thought that I would be that person to give it to you." A small popping sound filled the air as the cork was pulled from the bottle before the delicious liquid inside was poured happily into two glasses.

"I guess I could do with a little papering." Dorcas sighed happily and took a glass from Timothy. "You have my thanks. It's nice to be treated, as you say, once in a while. Even the meddling Post Mistress needs a break from the trouble she causes." She sipped happily on the champagne whilst Timothy served her sandwiches and little nibbles of food.

"Mrs. Lane hardly ever causes trouble." Once again Timothy smiled as he started to eat at a sandwich. "She is the one to solve it. No wonder why so many people, rich or poor, young or old, come to her for advice and help."

"Well, maybe she likes to help." Dorcas' eyes caught Timothy's as he looked over to her with his eyebrows rose. "Just a little." The both of them looked at each other for a moment before laughter erupted between the pair. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

...

The night dragged on. It was filled with laughter, old memoires, jokes that were told badly by Timothy and the odd hand touch; though Dorcas stuck to her guns and kept in the proper manner in which she was brought up – To never touch a man if he had a ring on his finger.

"I'm afraid, Timothy, that I must retire. This Post Mistress needs to up in a few hours or her costumers will not be happy if she takes a lie in." Dorcas took the last sip of her champagne and looked over to Timothy with bright yet tired eyes.

"Yes! Of course. How silly of me not to keep track on the time." Sir Timothy looked down at the blanket and gently pulled on its threads. It had been a wonderful and deep down Timothy knew it meant something between the pair, even if Dorcas didn't see it. They sat in silence for a few minutes as the river moved gently downstream. Now Timothy was moving over the mat to Dorcas' side. They both smiled at the same time before Dorcas looked away with a girlish smile. "Dorcas?"

The Post Mistress shivered a little as her name feel from his lips. It was so calm and so soothing to her. The way he spoke put Dorcas under a spell. How she could sit there for hours and listen to anything and everything he had to say. Now her hands too played with the blanket as she looked back to him. How hard it was not to blush under his gaze. "Yes?"

Together they moved into each other. The tension was building and soon enough Dorcas was breathing a little too heavily for her own liking. His lips were inches away from hers but neither of them moved, not yet.

This was what Mrs. Lane had been dreaming for years. To have Timothy close to her no matter how wrong it was. The craving for her young man grew stronger and stronger each time she saw him with Adelaide. "You have a wife." Her words came out in a shaky whispered as her breath ran over his face.

"I have you." Timothy moved his lips onto Dorcas'. Suddenly the world around him exploded into bright colours. How he had longed for Mrs. Lane's touch. Together their lips moved it perfect time. His hand reached up and brushed over her soft cheeks.

Now she lay on the floor and Timothy was over her. Their kiss didn't break; it got stronger. Soft moans floated around in the air and the sounds of their moving lips sung in the wind. Timothy's eyes were closed but Dorcas' were wide and alert. It suddenly occurred to her that she was kissing a married man who was seemly leant over her in a way that was past friendly. This was wrong. So wrong.

"Timothy..."

"Hmm." Still he kissed her. This was too good for him to stop. He had to have Mrs. Lane, no matter what, he had to take her. He didn't take notice of her as she tried to push her head back. No, his kiss only got stronger and a little forceful. He needed her.

"Stop." By now Dorcas was whimpering into the kiss. This wasn't the Timothy she knew. He wasn't gentle, caring or understanding. His body was pushed hers a little too much and she was finding it seemly impossible to breathe in her tight corset. "Stop. Please."

"Oh Dorcas...How I've waited for you."

"No!" With all the strength she had Dorcas pushed Timothy to the floor where he landed with a crash. The magic around them crashed and burned and this time the air was filled with strained pants and gasps as the two struggled for oxygen. In a second Mrs. Lane was on her feet. She snatched up her small purse with a shallow huff. What the two of them had just done was wrong and with it brought fear to Dorcas. If this got out she would be in ruin. Kissing a married man was against Dorcas Lane. Without another word she turned and practically ran off.

"Dorcas! Dorcas wait!"

Tears stung her eyes. Her feet soon grew tired of the stone covered lane that she ran on but Dorcas wouldn't stop. Now she knew, deep down, that she was more in love with Sir Timothy than ever before but he could never be hers nor would she be his. With divorce brought shame. With marriage brought pain and Dorcas Lane would never submit herself to that.

"You of all people deserve more than this. You deserve more then what's left over. You deserve everything. You've held your breath long enough."