Sorry about the delay, folks. I am still working on this story and do plan to finish it, there will just be considerable delay between updates. I'm sorry and thank you for all the kind words and encouragement. Thanks!

Mary woke early the next morning. The sun was just starting to rise as she rolled out of bed. She breathed in the scent of the manor, her second favorite smell in the world - the first being freshly turned earth. The manor was a mix of wood, clean linens, and old books. She quickly dressed, and as she was tying on her boots, Martha walked into the room bearing a tray of food.

"I knew thee'd be up. Can't wait to see your garden, can you?" Martha grinned as she sat the tray on the table and began setting the dishes in their proper places. "But before you leave, eat something. Lunch is a long time away."

Mary did as she was told, eating a bowl of porridge with milk and cinnamon and a biscuit before grabbing an apple and rushing outside. She couldn't run. It wasn't proper for someone of her age, but she walked as quickly as would be permitted by her etiquette teachers. She quickly came to the door of the secret garden (she still liked to think of it that way) and pushed open the door.

She had half-expected him to be standing on the other side, awaiting her arrival. But he wasn't immediately visible and she felt disappointment rushing through her. She chided herself for feeling so downhearted and then looked at the garden. It was splendid -- three years had really been too long to stay away. It had blossomed beyond all she could have imagined. She awed at the view before her: fountains of roses and winding paths, surrounded by wildly contained flowerbeds and bushes. The large old, dead oak trees had been wrapped in roses with other flowered vines interspersed here and there. Combined with the blue sky, the fluffy white clouds, and the sounds of robins and fat, happy bees, it seemed like Heaven. How could anything be better?

Her musings had caused her to wander through the garden's paths, lost in wonder. She rounded a large rose-wrapped tree and there he was, kneeling in a flowerbed facing away from her. He must have heard her walking because even though she stood stock-still, he spoke: "Hello, Miss Mary."

Her heart felt as though it were about to beat right through her chest, and she put the reaction down to surprise. He had caught her by surprise, as she had begun to suspect that he wasn't even in the garden at all that morning. Then around the corner she walked and there he was, just as he'd been 3 years ago. But as he stood up and turned toward her, she couldn't help thinking that perhaps he wasn't just as he'd been all those years ago. They stood quietly for a moment, facing each other and observing the changes in each other's appearances. When she had left, Dickon had been about 16, handsome, but certainly not half the man that he was now. He had still been round- and rosy-cheeked, about her height and rather scrawny. Now he was a well-built man: she could just imagine the muscles that were formed under the white button-up he wore, his suspenders keeping the shirt close to his body. She could also see that he would now be several inches taller than her. His face was less round, but still pleasantly rosy, though it was harder to tell through the stubble that grew on his cheeks. His green eyes sparkled at her as she nearly gasped at his handsome face.

Dickon's mind had also been stopped temporarily by the vision that Mary presented. He remembered her as young and pretty. The woman he saw before him no longer wore sundresses with matching bows in her hair, but was dressed as a woman with a long, high-waisted black skirt that showed her figure, and a dark-red short-sleeved blouse that hugged her curves well. But her face seemed nearly the same, just as beautiful as it had been before she had left, though a bit more sculpted. Her cheekbones were well cut and her lips and cheeks were beautifully colored. Her blue-green eyes stared back at him and her dark-brown curls were twisted up, small tendrils falling here and there. He noticed her stare and then he saw her face light up with a smile.

"Dickon!" she cried and, forgetting all propriety, raced toward him. He caught her the moment she stumbled into him, having forgotten her long, impractical skirt. "Oof", his breath was pushed out as Mary crashed into him. He kept his balance, and his arms wrapped around her, to keep her from falling farther (at least, that's what he told himself).

She beamed up at him, her heart pounding as he held her against him, his chest pressed against her own. He grinned back at her. "Miss Mary," he breathed out in a whisper, almost as if he couldn't believe she was there. She was aware of the exact moment he realized their position: his eyes widened slightly and a blush spread across his face. "Ah, Miss Mary," he said as he helped her to steady herself. She smiled wider as his blush spread. "Welcome back, Miss Mary. Tis good to see you," he murmured quietly

"You as well, Dickon," she murmured back. Dickon smiled and his blush faded a bit, though not completely. They stood for a moment, smiling at each other, at a loss for words.

"Would you like to me to show you the garden?" Dickon asked breaking the silence.

"Yes, of course, please," Mary replied.

And they walked around the garden, Dickon pointing out things he had added or changed ever so slightly since Mary had been gone questing for her approval. And then, answering questions that Mary had about this and that. They strolled for an hour pouring over the details of the garden and then they came to Mary's favorite part of the garden.

Mary smiled at Dickon as she sat on the swing hanging from the largest tree in the garden. She sighed happily. "I'm so glad to be back." She smiled and tilted her head back, basking in the warmth of the sun that peeked past the branches, as she pushed off the ground to begin swinging, stretching her legs out in front of her. "It's been so long since I've been on a swing" and she laughed freely. Dickon stood smiling at her, glad that she was still the happy, independent girl that he remembered. He had feared slightly that she would be too busy or proper to enjoy the garden anymore. But his fears had been completely unfounded, which he was glad to know. She slowed her swinging and smiled at him. He strolled behind her and began pushing the swing gently. Mary giggled and let herself swing back and forth.

Dickon pushed her for a few minutes and then let her slow down, holding the ropes and he steadied the swing. She twisted around and smiled up at him. He smiled gently back down at her and Mary felt a tingling in her stomach. Her breath became shallow and her heart sped up as she felt the intensity of his gaze. And then, she panicked.

"Dickon," she spoke loudly and squeakily. Dickon blinked and his eyes lost their intensity and became soft and friendly, instead of fiery hot. "I should probably go back now," she squeaked again. She cleared her throat as Dickon's smile faded a bit. "I mean…I said that I would go back to the house for lunch. Uncle Archie wanted Colin and I to have lunch with him today. He said he wanted to speak to us…" she trailed off.

Dickon frowned gently, unhappy that she had to leave, and Mary was afraid she had upset him. "I'll come back. I promise. Either this afternoon, or tomorrow morning".

At this, Dickon smiled again. "That's fine Miss Mary. I look forward to seeing you again. I will be here."

Mary smiled back at him sadly and stood up. She walked down the path and looked back right as she was about to turn out of view. Dickon was watching her. She smiled again and turned away, walking out of view.