Jane Cutler slept late the next morning, as was her usual habit on the days she did not work in the shop. She normally worked three days a week, while her sister, Abigail, worked the other three, with Sunday being a day of rest. It had been a lucky thing that Richard Sharpe's invitation had come for a day she did not have to work, so she would not have to make excuses to her father. She wasn't ready to tell her father about the handsome soldier just yet; she preferred to get to know him first before introducing him, just in case things did not work out between them.

After washing up, she donned her favourite gown, which was of a rich burgundy shade that she knew was becoming on her, if the number of compliments she typically got when wearing it was any indication. She took her time fixing her hair, then grabbed a bonnet before heading to the kitchen to pack a picnic lunch.

The young woman frowned after finding the kitchen and the rest of the house empty, as she'd meant to ask her youngest sister, Sarah, to join her and Corporal Sharpe for the sake of propriety. Jane had neglected to ask her the night before, figuring she would have had plenty of time to do it this morning.

Knowing there was nothing for it, she returned to the kitchen and assembled the meal, hoping that Sarah would return before Richard Sharpe arrived. But by the time she heard a knock at the front door, just as she finished packing everything into the basket, Sarah still had not appeared.

Sighing as she removed her apron, she went to answer the door.

"Are you ready to go?" Richard Sharpe said when she opened the door, smiling broadly as he held up a bottle of wine. "I brought us something good to drink."

"I've packed us a lunch and I'm ready to go, but my sister is not here," Jane replied hesitantly. "I had meant to ask her to come along with us as a chaperone." Her voice trailed off in indecision. "Maybe we should wait for her to return?"

Swallowing the urge to sigh in exasperation, Sharpe told her, "I'd love to meet your sister some time, but I've only got about two hours today before I have to go back to camp. I'd hate to see the food and this wine go to waste." Grinning ever wider, he wheedled, "Come on, it will be all right. You know you want to go."

"Well, I suppose it would be all right," she replied, her voice still uncertain. "And you're right, I do want to go and get to know you better."

"Come on, let's go, then," Sharpe said,extending his arm to her. "We'll have a good time. I'll be proud to have the prettiest girl in Leadingham on my arm."

Jane blushed crimson but did not say anything, as she wasn't used to that sort of flattery.

"So. Where do you want to go?" he asked as they left the house. "I'll leave it up to you, 'cos you know the town better than I do."

Leading him to a path near the edge of the woods rather than to the road, she said, "There's a lovely meadow near a small creek where my sisters and I used to go to play when we were little. My mother would come with us sometimes and we'd eat lunch there. It's ever so quiet and peaceful; a nice place to talk."

"Sounds like the perfect spot," he said. "Lead on!"

She led him down a well-worn path through the woods. Though the path was obviously well-travelled, they did not meet anyone along the way, much to Sharpe's satisfaction. He wanted this comely lass all to himself.

After about a fifteen minute walk, they reached a grassy clearing with a babbling brook on the opposite end of the meadow. Pointing to a shaded spot under a tree near the creek bank, Jane asked, "How about right here?"

"Fine with me," Sharpe said agreeably.

After spreading a blanket she'd brought along on the grass, Jane set the basket down before settling herself on the blanket as Sharpe joined her. She pulled out two pewter mugs from the basket, handing them to him. "Why don't you fill our mugs with that wine while I set the food out."

As he did so, she brought out some leftover chicken, bread, and cheese, wrapped in linen cloth.

"Looks good and I'm hungry," the young corporal said, reaching for a piece of chicken. "I skipped lunch back in camp, knowing I'd be eating with you. Did you make it?"

"I'm afraid I can't take credit for it," she said modestly. "My youngest sister does most of the cooking with some help from a woman who comes in a few days a week to help her with that and the housekeeping."

"No matter," Sharpe told her. "I didn't come for the food, anyway. I came to spend time with a pretty lass".

"So, Richard," Jane said some time later, after finishing a piece of chicken. "Where are you from and how long have you been in the army?"

"London," he replied. "Born and grew up there. Been in the army two years now."

"What's London like?" she asked. "I've always wanted to go there. It must be better than living in boring, old Leadingham."

"It's dirty, smelly, and crowded, if you really want to know," he told her, chuckling at her naivete. "It's not so bad for the rich buggers, but I didn't know nothin' about none of that. I grew up on the streets, 'cos my mother died when I was a wee lad and I never did know my Da." He took a bite of chicken, then added, "I lived in an orphanage."

"How dreadful," she said, frowning, thinking of how Obadiah had told her a rather similar story about his life before joining the army. Not for the first time, she felt lucky to have had both her parents for most of her childhood. "I suppose there's something to be said for growing up in a small town, after all."

"Too right you are." Sharpe took her mug from her, refilling it to the brim. Jane had become more talkative with the more wine she drank, and did not notice that this was her second refill.

"Mmm, this wine makes me feel tingly all over," Jane remarked, shivering with delight. "I didn't think it tasted all that good when I first tried it, but the more I drink, the more I like it."

"That's the way it is with wine," Sharpe said, grinning to see the young woman loosening up. After a moment, he reached up to touch one of her curls that had slipped out from under her bonnet. "Your hair sparkles like gold when the sun shines on it. You shouldn't keep hair so beautiful hidden under a bonnet."

Blushing, she shyly removed the bonnet, putting it on the blanket beside her. "You really think so?"

"I know so," he told her as he reached up with both hands to remove the pins from her hair. "There, that's better."

Leaning over, he kissed her once gently, then more ardently when she did not resist, wrapping his arms around her.

As the couple continued to kiss for the next few minutes, Jane knew she shouldn't allow the handsome soldier to take such liberties with her, but she was dizzy, her head muddled from all the wine she'd imbibed, so she was unable to muster enough resistance to tell him to stop. It felt good, so the young woman felt the last of her resistance crumbling as she gave herself over to the new and wonderful sensations.

It was such that she barely noticed when Richard Sharpe unfastened her bodice and loosened her stays to caress her bare breasts a few minutes later. Still in an alcohol-fueled daze, she complied without question when he lifted her skirts and eased her back into a reclining position on the blanket not long after that.

She briefly returned to her senses, her eyes widening in shock, when she felt the sharp pain of her maidenhead tearing shortly thereafter, but Sharpe's mouth covered hers, muffling any protests she might have given. Thankfully, the pain soon subsided, to be replaced with more pleasant feelings that soon carried her off on a rising tide of pleasure.

After feeling a warm, liquid sensation between her legs a few minutes later, she was vaguely disappointed when Sharpe rolled off her' feeling as if there should have been something more that she'd missed. As Sharpe rose from the blanket and set his breeches back to rights, Jane remained sprawled on the blanket, her skirts still rucked up around her waist; with her head still in a muddle.

"Come on, Jane," Sharpe urged suddenly as he jostled her shoulder, bringing her somewhat out of the haze. "I need to get back to camp now 'fore I'm missed. Fix your clothes and let me walk you back to your house."

After he'd helped her to her feet and she'd lowered and smoothed out her skirts, she felt a sticky wetness trickling down the inside of her thigh. It was only then that the gravity of what she'd just done dawned on her. Still not quite alert, however, it was all she could do to put her hair into a messy bun, stuff it all back under her bonnet, then gather up the basket and blanket, which was now redolent with the smell of sex.

Neither Jane nor Sharpe said much on the walk back to her house, for which she was grateful. She really didn't know what to say.

"Goodbye, Richard," she somehow managed as they reached her back door.

Leaning forward to kiss her cheek, he replied softly, "Good bye, lass. I had a good time."

He left without another word, as Jane opened the door, praying that no one was around. Thankfully, she managed to get up the back stairs to her room without encountering anyone. After cleaning herself as best as she could by pouring water from a pitcher into a basin at the washstand, she climbed into bed and was asleep within minutes.