Thank you for all the lovely reviews and encouragement to keep going with this story. I truly treasure them all. It feels like Christmas every time I see a new review posted :D

Also, I am humbled and touched by the Highclere Awards nomination. Whoever nominated me, thank you ever so much!

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Chapter 12 – A Versailles Picnic

Matthew was giddy with anticipation as he escorted Mary through the hotel. Now and then, she asked him questions, woven very cleverly into their conversation, but so far he had managed to avoid giving the surprise away.

"I thought we were having dinner."

Mary frowned as Matthew steered her towards the exit to the back. He just smiled at her and held the door for her. The sun was just setting, bathing the gardens in a beautiful pinkish light. Matthew led her down a narrow, graveled path, framed by neatly maintained hedges. She shivered a little as a cool breeze swept over them.

"Darling, I left my wrap in the room."

"I'll run back upstairs for it," Matthew assured her.

The hedge bowed out as they turned the corner, opening up to a small patio where a firepit was lit on the side, and a table was set for two in the middle. Elegant crystal glasses reflected the light from the setting sun while long, tapered candles in a silver candelabra flickered gently in the soft breeze.

"Oh, Matthew." Mary gasped and looked up at him. "It's beautiful."

"It might be the last time this year when it's still warm enough to dine outside. I didn't want to miss the opportunity."

Mary turned in his arms and cupped his face, kissing him softly. "Thank you."

He escorted her over to the table, pulling the chair out for her. A waiter showed up, asking if they were ready for him to pour the wine. Matthew explained the situation with Mary's throw, asking him to serve Mary a drink while he ran back upstairs.

"I'll only be a moment, darling."

"I'm perfectly fine, Matthew." Mary smiled and gestured to the firepit. "It's quite warm. Perhaps I don't need my shawl."

"I don't want you to get cold later and possibly get sick. It will only take a moment."

~ O ~

Thomas hurried through the hotel, clutching the neatly wrapped box tightly, Mary's shawl hanging over his arm. Mr. Crawley had forgotten the gift, and Thomas knew how much he had been looking forward to giving it to Lady Mary this evening. He sighed in relief as he spotted Matthew up ahead. He was speaking to someone. Thomas stopped a few feet away.

"Oh Thomas, thank you. I was just on my way upstairs to get it." Matthew smiled at him as he spotted his valet with Mary's shawl in his hand. "Please excuse me, Your Grace."

The man turned, and his eyes filled with laughter at seeing Thomas. Thomas' eyes widened in recognition, and he bowed his head.

"Your Grace."

"This is the Duke of Crowborough, Thomas." Not waiting for Thomas' response, Matthew turned to the duke. "Your Grace, this is my travelling valet, Thomas. He's been invaluable during this trip." He chuckled and held up the golden box with white silk ribbons. "Somehow I managed to forget my wife's gift upstairs."

"I suppose we could blame it on infatuation with the lovely Lady Mary," the duke said with a teasing smile.

"Yes, I suppose we could."

"I will not hold you up any longer, Mr. Crawley. It was nice to see you again. Please give my regards to Lady Mary."

"Thank you. Perhaps we will find time to dine together before we leave, Your Grace."

"I look forward to it."

Matthew smiled and nodded, hurrying towards the garden where Mary was waiting.

~ O ~

Mary turned and smiled when she heard footsteps on the gravel.

"That was quick, darling."

"I'm pleased to hear that you've missed me, Lady Mary."

Mary stared in shock at the man standing a few feet away, grinning at her.

"Mr. Pamuk!" Mary jumped to her feet, looking around for the waiter. To her chagrin, he was nowhere in sight. She and Kemal Pamuk were totally alone in this secluded part of the gardens.

Pamuk quickly crossed the space, taking her hands. "My darling, I'm so pleased that our paths have crossed again. I knew we were destined to get another chance."

"Please, Mr. Pamuk!" Mary tried to free her hands. "My husband will be back any moment. I cannot imagine what he will do if he finds us like this."

"Then tell me that you will end my suffering. Come to me tonight."

He finished his request with a passionate kiss to her lips. Mary tore her mouth away from his, fuming with anger.

"Mr. Pamuk!"

Mary tugged harder, managing to free her hands just as Matthew turned the corner. Kemal Pamuk had moved closer, and now seized her by the waist.

"Come now, Lady Mary, surely you feel it too?"

"Feel what, exactly?"

Matthew's cold voice made Kemal Pamuk turn his head and smile at him. "Mr. Crawley."

"I suggest that you let go of my wife this instant."

"Or what?" Pamuk chuckled, stroking his hand over Mary's side.

"Now, Mr. Pamuk," Matthew growled.

Pamuk bowed at Mary and stepped back. She quickly took a few steps away.

"Leave."

"You're not very hospitable, Mr. Crawley. I was under the impression that the English were… how should I put it? Aristocrats in your country seem open to exploring passion elsewhere, once able to hide behind the disguise of marriage."

"What are you insinuating?" Matthew's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Customs of your country's aristocracy indicate that your marriage would be one of convenience more so than love. Lady Mary is a stunningly beautiful woman. Why should she settle only for you?"

Matthew's arm pulled back and his fist connected with Pamuk's chin a second later, making the man stumble backwards.

"Don't ever speak about my wife in that way again. Now leave, before I have you escorted out of here."

Kemal Pamuk grinned and rubbed his chin. Winking at Mary, he bowed his head at the two.

"Until next time, Lady Mary."

Matthew glared at the man as Pamuk sauntered off. Once certain that the Turk was not coming back, he hurried over to Mary.

"Are you all right, darling? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Matthew. Thank you for returning so quickly."

"Thank Thomas actually. He saw your throw and brought it downstairs. I ran into him and the Duke of Crowborough in the lobby."

"Remind me to thank him tomorrow."

~ O ~

The Duke of Crowborough watched Matthew for a moment until he was out of earshot before turning to Thomas who was still standing a few feet away.

"Thomas, what a pleasure."

"Your Grace."

"My dear man, surely you've not forgotten my name so quickly?" Edwyn drawled in a low, almost purr-like, voice.

"I don't think it appropriate for me to take liberties like that, Your Grace. Not here."

"Then perhaps later?"

Thomas met the man's twinkling eyes, noticing the eagerness in them. With a curt nod, he agreed.

"I cannot say when that would be. Mr. Crawley did not tell me when he and Lady Mary plan on returning."

"I'll be waiting. You know it will be worth it, my dear Thomas."

Thomas' face felt warm, and he noticed a reaction elsewhere too. Quickly clasping his hands in front of him, he defiantly tilted his chin up. The duke chuckled in recognition and patted Thomas' shoulder. He leaned closer as he walked past him, whispering softly in Thomas' ear.

"I have missed you. Please don't keep me waiting."

Thomas inhaled sharply at the feel of Edwyn's warm breath against his ear.

"I won't."

The Duke laughed softly and stepped back before leaving a quite stunned Thomas standing in the lobby of the hotel.

~ O ~

Matthew was in an extremely good mood when he joined his wife later that evening. His dinner arrangement had been a success, and Mary had been stunning, turning more than one head as they came downstairs. He smiled at her, again overcome with how much he loved her.

Mary was lounging on top of the covers, wearing only her silky nightgown and the necklace Matthew had given her earlier. She moved her bare feet on the bed as he approached. Matthew's eyebrows shot up at the sight of Mary's dainty feet. There was something distinctively different about them. Sitting down, he gently stroked over the arch of her foot. As he looked more closely, he noticed her toes.

"Mary! Your toes…"

Mary giggled at his surprised exclamation. "Do you like it?"

Matthew swallowed and nodded silently. Meeting her eyes he ran his hand up her calf and under her nightgown. "I believe that I like it a lot. Whatever made you think of doing such a thing?"

"Remember I told you that I had Anna take a course in latest fashion trends while we were in Paris? She learned how to do it while there."

"What course?" Matthew frowned.

"Surely I must have told you?" Mary smiled innocently at him.

"I'm fairly certain that you didn't." He tugged her closer, his hand now stroking gently over the back of her thigh. "What else did Anna learn at this course, which, I must confess, truly sounds to be aimed at shocking unsuspecting husbands."

Mary laughed and gently swatted his chest. "Perhaps. Still, as shocking as you might find women's fashion, I'm sure that you will not die from any new discovery."

"I don't know. Just the knowledge of what hidden treasures you could be hiding might set me off at unfortunate times."

"Oh Matthew." She brushed her lips against his and played with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "Now, do you wish to discuss Anna's studies, or are you planning on making love to me?"

"Anna who?"

Mary giggled as he quickly divested her of her nightgown before kissing her chest. She started to remove her necklace, but he shook his head.

"Please leave it on. It looks truly stunning on you."

Mary smiled, pleased with the adoring look on his face. Letting go of the clasp, she stretched out on the bed watching Matthew as he slipped out of his pajamas. She hummed in delight when he was finally naked, delighting in his firm, warm body pressed against hers.

"Darling…"

Matthew looked up, his lips still pressed to the side of her breast. "Hmm?"

Mary stroked his cheek, and, to his surprise, her face turned pink. He sat up and looked confusedly at her.

"I was thinking…" Mary looked away, unable to look at him as she stated her request. "Last night…"

"Ah…" Matthew let out a sigh of relief, but when she still did not look at him, he started to worry. "If you didn't like that, we won't…"

"No! I did." Mary exclaimed, looking at him in alarm. "To be completely honest with you, I found it thrilling."

"As did I." Matthew grinned mischievously and leaned down for a kiss.

"You're always so considerate, Matthew, and it is lovely. I have no complaints whatsoever, darling."

"But?"

"Last night was different," she whispered. "It was spontaneous, fast and… intensely passionate… almost wild." She closed her eyes and swallowed hard as her body started to react to the memory. "I enjoyed it; probably more than what is appropriate."

"What do you want, Mary?" Matthew spoke in a soft, husky voice. "Tell me, and I'll do it."

"Could we try that, but in bed?" Her cheeks turned pink again.

Matthew nodded eagerly. "Oh my darling, of course we can."

Mary giggled and reached for him.

~ O ~

Tom Branson was deep in thought when he entered the Downton rose garden. None of the other servants seemed to ever set foot there, and he knew that the family was unlikely to be out at this hour. It was a beautiful, warm day with just a hint of crispness in the air. With his hands in his pockets Tom walked along the neatly trimmed hedges.

Sybil looked up at the sound of someone approaching. She smiled and lowered the letter she had been reading as she watched the handsome, young chauffeur approach. Clearly Branson thought that he was alone, his coat slung casually over his left shoulder. Given this opportunity to study him more closely, Sybil took him in from top to toe. He really was handsome. Branson had rolled up his shirtsleeves, and she noticed his strong arms as he reached out to touch a rose.

"You may have it, if you like."

He jumped and snatched his hand away. She giggled a little at his reaction.

"Lady Sybil, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there."

"It's quite all right, Branson."

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you. Good day to you, my lady."

He dipped his chin as he turned to leave.

"Branson?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"What were you doing just now? You seemed very deep in thought."

"I was thinking of my mother." Sybil tilted her head, looking eagerly at him. "Today is her birthday. Well, was…" He shrugged and looked away.

"I'm sorry. You must miss her a lot."

"I do."

"Do you wish to talk about her?" Sybil asked a little hesitantly. She gestured to the empty space next to her. "Please, have a seat, Branson."

"Oh, I couldn't, my lady."

Sybil rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, Branson."

He lowered himself onto the grass, stretching out his legs in front of him, leaning on his hands.

"How is this, my lady?"

"Better."

"Another letter from Lady Mary?"

"Yes." Sybil grinned and touched the stationary. "I'm so glad that Mary has time to write. She was always wonderful at telling stories."

"I'm glad too. I can tell that you really miss her, my lady."

"I do." Sybil looked down, playing with the edge of the envelope. "I think the worst part is to know that she's not coming back."

"Not coming back?"

"To Downton I mean. Once they return to England, she'll have her own house with Matthew in Manchester."

"Of course." He nodded in understanding. "I'm sure she'll come and visit. Besides, letters take much less time to arrive from Manchester than Paris."

"Oh, Branson." Sybil burst out laughing at his cheeky grin. "Thank you for making me laugh."

"My pleasure, my lady." He wiggled his eyebrows. "What exciting things have they been up to?"

"They climbed the Eifel Tower!" Sybil's eyes were wide with excitement. "Can you believe it? My sister walked all the way up."

Branson smiled and shook his head. "I suppose we'll have to take her word for it, my lady."

"She says there are pictures." She looked down, skimming her sister's handwriting again. "Mary is such a tease sometimes. She writes that she bought me something in Montmartre, but she won't say what it is."

"It will be all the more exciting when you open the gift."

"Perhaps you can drive me to Manchester to get it?"

Branson burst out laughing. "I'm not sure his lordship would approve of such a long drive. He might think that I had plans to kidnap you."

"Branson." Sybil rolled her eyes at him. Putting Mary's letter aside, she looked eagerly at him. "Tell me what's going on with the vote."

"It's going to happen, I think. I don't know exactly when, but I think it might be soon. A lot of people aren't happy about it, so it really could go either way. Personally, as you know, I think it's ridiculous to say that a woman should not have her own opinion. I've met many women who are far more intelligent than their husbands."

"I know." Sybil let out a heavy sigh and looked away. "I wish that I could learn other things than how to do needlework and ballroom dancing. The idea that my husband will tell me what to think and what to believe in is repulsive, Branson!"

He nodded in agreement, stunned by how beautiful she looked in her fury over the injustice of the world of women.

"You would be a wonderful sparring partner in a debate, my lady."

"You really think so?" She laughed in delight at the thought. "How exciting it sounds! Arguing one's point with facts and knowledge, changing people's minds by showing proof of wrongdoings."

"I think you would make a fabulous barrister too, my lady."

"No, no, no! I couldn't possibly!" She grinned at him as she gestured wildly, disagreeing with him. "I'm far too impatient and demanding, Branson. Matthew says that a solicitor must be calm and never lose his temper. I'm not sure I could do that. I would want to shake some sense into the opposition."

"Well, that wouldn't do in a courtroom. I can just see the wigs go flying as Lady Sybil Crawley causes another brawl in court."

"Branson!" Sybil shrieked with laughter at the image his words evoked.

"Of course, you are a lady, so you would always do it with grace and decorum."

Sybil huffed at that. He chuckled when she glared at him.

"Why is it that no one talks to me the way you do, Branson?"

"I can't answer that, my lady. It's their loss, really."

Sybil slipped off the bench and knelt next to him. "Sometimes I wish that I had not been born the daughter of an earl."

"I don't, my lady. You're perfect the way you are. If you were anyone else, you wouldn't be you."

"Are you flirting with me, Branson?" Sybil blushed and her eyelashes fluttered a little.

"I suppose I was. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I know my place, my lady."

"Please, Branson, don't hide behind that silliness. We've just been speaking like equals."

Not quite, he thought to himself. Noticing she sadness in her eyes, he nodded. She moved closer and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"My lady, you shouldn't really do that."

"If you can flirt with me, can't I touch you?" She giggled a little and tilted her head.

"It's too dangerous, my lady. If someone saw it, I might lose my job, and you would be in trouble with his lordship."

"But no one is here but us."

"That only makes it more dangerous, my lady."

Looking into his eyes, noticing the intensity in his gaze, Sybil swallowed a little nervously. She had flirted with young men before, but it had always been in the safety of a crowded room with her parents present. This was different, and so much more exciting. She moved her hand to his hair, touching it with gentle fingers. When he did not move away from her touch, she got bolder, running her fingers along his jaw line and down his neck.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"

Branson quickly grasped her hand. Sybil blushed and curled her fingers around his.

"I've never touched a man before. Not like that."

"I'm not a man, Lady Sybil. Not to you. To you I'm a chauffeur, someone who works for your father."

"I don't want that. I want you to be my friend!"

He smiled at the despair in her voice and decided to tempt fate a bit more by stroking her fingers.

"I am your friend, but only like this. You're very young, my lady. I don't want to be the cause of you ruining your future."

"How could you possibly?"

He just smiled at her and let go of her hand. Jumping to his feet, he nodded at her.

"Enjoy your day, Lady Sybil. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

Sybil sighed and nodded. She watched him leave, her hand still warm from his touch.

~ O ~

Having woken up to a beautiful, sunny day, Mary had eagerly asked Matthew if they could have a picnic luncheon in the hotel park, something that he was quick to agree to. Dressed for a day out, and with a small basket, provided by the hotel, in hand, the two set off on a leisurely stroll.

Matthew knew when he had found the perfect spot. It was somewhat secluded, with a few large trees giving shade over a patch of still lush grass. Birds were chirping in the nearby bushes, and above, the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. Spreading the blanket on the ground, he helped Mary sit down before taking a seat next to her.

"I wonder what we have here?" he said with an eager grin.

"Hopefully something to drink."

Matthew peered inside the basket and clucked with excitement. A bottle of wine was securely wedged into one corner of the basket, and something that looked like lemonade sat in some form of contraption that was filled with ice.

"Lemonade or wine, darling?"

"Both?" Mary chuckled at his surprised look. "I'm thirsty, but I don't want to drink a whole glass of wine just to slake my thirst."

"Of course," he said and quickly grabbed a small lemonade glass, filling it for her. "Here you go."

Mary sipped the cool beverage, humming in delight over its sweet and tart taste. She watched Matthew uncover some meat and bread, fruit, and what appeared to be some form of pear or apple pastry. She pointed at the cheese.

"Could I have some of that please?"

He carved a small piece off the block of cheese and offered it to her lips. Mary grinned and leaned forward, her lips brushing against his fingertips as he fed her.

The food turned out to be superb, and they enjoyed it tremendously, now and then sharing little bites with each other, relishing in the freedom at being able to do so. They had discovered while in Paris that they both shared a love for cheese. With this in mind, Matthew had asked Thomas to request several local choices for their picnic. Only a few scraps and crumbs remained on the little wooden board that had been provided with the basket.

"I think the Roquefort was delightful with the spread."

"It's a bit too strong for my taste," Mary countered. "The Camembert, however, was delicious with the apricots."

"Would you like some dessert?" Matthew asked while refilling her wine.

"In a moment. I fear that I enjoyed the cheese too much."

He nodded and smiled at her. Mary was sitting across from him, looking beautiful. She had removed her hat, and her hair reflected an errant sun beam, here and there showing off the different browns and reds in her hair.

"I'll pack this up then, but leave the sweet treats on top for when we're ready."

She nodded and watched him silently while sipping her wine. Finally done, he put the basket aside and moved a little so he could lean against the tree behind him. Holding out his hand to her, he beckoned her closer. She eagerly settled next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder, basking in the feeling of his arm around her.

"This was wonderful. Thank you."

He hummed in agreement and turned his head to place a kiss on her forehead. Reaching inside his pocket, he pulled out a small book.

"Would you like me to read to you?"

"What is it?"

"A collection of French poems." He laughed a little nervously. "I imagine that others before us have delighted in these same passages, perhaps even sitting here in the same spot."

"Oh, Matthew, you truly are a romantic."

He blushed at her words, but nodded and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Settling in together again, he opened the book of love poems to the one he felt fit the moment best. Reading to Mary in a steady voice, he dove into the task with valor.

~ O ~

"You can't hide from me, darling."

Mary clapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. Matthew was chasing her, and she thrilled at the thought of when he would finally find her. Hearing him close in on her, she set off again.

"Aha, there you are!"

Matthew laughed as he sprinted after the laughing Mary. Of course he had no trouble catching up to her, once he had found her. Wrapping his arms around her, he spun her around. She shrieked, and he put her down. When he let go of her, she took off again.

"Mary!"

He chased after her again. Mary was laughing so hard she had trouble running. Almost making it back to their blanket, she hid behind a tree, peeking around it at him. She bit her lip, giggling at the sight of him. Matthew's face was a little pink, and he was tugging at his collar.

"Did I run too fast for you, dearest?" she teased.

"Oh, you."

He lunged at her, but she was quicker, darting around to the other side. They played like this for a few moments before he tricked her, making her run straight into his arms. She squeaked with surprise and pouted a little.

"You cheat."

He placed a fiery kiss against her lips, which she was quick to respond to. She let out another squeak when he picked her up, carrying her over to the blanket. Easing her feet down, he held her gaze. Mary took a step back, her eyes never leaving his. He stepped closer. She flinched when she felt the rough bark from the tree press against her back.

"You can't run any further," he teased.

"Matthew." She swallowed nervously as he inched closer, feeling the sexual tension intensify. "We can't."

"Why not?" His lips were so close to hers, she could feel his breath ghost over her mouth. "We're all alone here."

"But what if…" His lips cut her off, and she mewled softly as he curled his tongue around hers. Clutching at his jacket, she pulled him closer.

"Please, Mary."

She whimpered and nodded her consent. Delighted, Matthew shrugged out of his jacket, feeling too warm and constricted by it. He stroked her sides and down over her hips, pulling her slightly towards him, letting her feel just how much he desired her.

"Oh!" Mary's eyes fluttered shut when she felt him press against her so intimately.

Matthew grabbed handfuls of her skirt, pushing it up so he could touch her silk-clad legs. She trembled with excitement as he kept touching her. After spending some time stroking and kneading her buttocks, he finally cupped her intimately, pressing the soft silk against her as he moved his fingers to find her little spot. Mary let out a sob of pleasure when he found it, and he stroked it steadily through the silk until the garment was soaked through. Easing down on his knees, he pushed her knickers down and off before gently parting her folds with his lips and tongue, again searching for her little pearl.

"Matthew!"

Mary shook violently as he pleasured her with his mouth. His strong grip that pressed her firmly against the tree helped her stay on her feet as her legs became increasingly more rubbery. She gasped and her fingers curled in his blonde locks when he sucked her spot, flicking his tongue over it. This intimate touch that they had first discovered together so long ago at Downton had turned out to be one that they both cherished, and one that Matthew excelled at.

"Oh, God."

Matthew reluctantly let go of her. He could drink from her until eternity, but he knew that he wanted them to be joined when they fell into the abyss, the feel of her when that happened so incredibly delicious. Watching Mary's chest flutter as she gasped for breath and tried to remain standing on her now shaking legs, he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down, freeing his aching manhood. As if finally realizing what he was doing, Mary's eyes opened, and she gave him a heated look. A second later, her warm hands grasped him firmly, stroking him, drawing gasps and moans out of him. When she stared to kneel down, he gently grabbed her elbow and shook his head.

"Later, darling. I'm too close for that."

She nodded in understanding and instead gave it a little tug. Matthew grunted with pleasure and fumbled for her skirt, pushing it up and out of the way. Mary guided him to her as he lifted her left leg up to rest on his hip. They both sighed when his tip bumped against her little spot. Mary stroked herself a few times, rubbing him over her slick center. His hips bucked in pleasure, but she held him firmly, preventing him from entering her.

"Mary, I can't hold back much longer."

"Yes, you can."

His eyes popped open at her words. Meeting her eyes, he held her gaze as she kept stroking herself with his hard member.

"I truly can't," he hissed.

Mary squeezed him hard, just at the base. His eyes widened, and he gasped. To his surprise, his arousal diminished somewhat.

"What? How..?"

She just giggled and kissed him, still rubbing herself against him.

"Something I read. I guess it was true."

"Something you…" His eyes widen in shock. "You? Oh god, Mary."

She had eased the tip inside her, clamping down on it. She felt so incredibly tight and warm. He wanted to plunge deep inside her, to find her core, to nestle there until all of him was burrowed inside her. Her hand, which still held him in a firm grip, prevented any further movement on his part. He tugged at her wrist, but all it accomplished was that she tightened her fingers more firmly around him.

"Patience, darling."

His eyes rolled back when he felt her tickle the underside of his manhood, then squeeze him inside. He ground his teeth, and his fingers dug into her hip. Then her hand was gone. Before he could open his eyes she whispered against his lips, her breath hot.

"Now."

With a deep growl, he grasped her hips and pushed inside her. She whimpered as he filled her, fluttering around him. He could tell that she was close too. Moving frantically against her, he tried to bring on her release. She felt incredible, soft, warm, and so tight. Now and then, she squeezed and fluttered around him, sending him closer to his release. Forcing his eyes open, he looked at her face, noticing the blush on her cheeks and how her lips were parted as she gasped.

"Mary," he groaned. "Look at me."

Her eyes opened and her dark eyes met his. Holding each other's gaze they pushed against each other, both feeling the intimacy of the moment increase.

"Put your arms around my neck," he gasped.

She did, and then laughed softly when he picked her up, pushing her against the tree. She curled her legs around his waist, bringing him closer to her.

"Please… oh god…"

Then everything shattered. Mary saw black spots behind her eyelids as her eyes closed tightly when she was overtaken by her release. She squeezed around him, holding him in a tight grip as he pushed a few last times before staying deep inside her as he spent.

Mary rested her forehead against his shoulder, gasping and sighing as she recovered. She whimpered a little when he withdrew once she'd slowly eased her legs down. Her knees were shaking so badly that she stumbled, and he was quick to help her down onto the blanket.

They came together in a tangle of arms and legs as they settled on the blanket, basking in the soft afterglow of their coupling.

To be continued…

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There you have it, love, smut, a bit of Sybil/Branson, our villain returned, so did a certain Duke... In the next chapter they will say farewell to France and return to England for Mary and Matthew to really start their new life together.

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The Highclere Awards voting closes tomorrow, Sunday June 16. If you haven't voted yet, but want to, please head on over to their website: www. highclereawards, com / place-your-votes .html

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