By the time they stopped for a light luncheon and change of horses at a posting house, Mrs Pearson was starting to feel more cheerful. It was a very long time since she had been anywhere without Lady Murray and she began to feel as if a weight were lifting from her shoulders. Frances told her a little about her life abroad, leaving out the more florid episodes and the nurse thought it all sounded very exciting, even if slightly shocking.

They reached Brasted as the sun came out for the first time that day, a good omen she thought. John took them straight to the rectory, and, accompanied by Lord Carleton, went up and knocked at the door. "Reverend Thomas, do you remember me? I was here a couple of weeks ago enquiring about the marriage of Henry Metcalf?"

The face in front of them cleared, "Yes of course." He looked questioningly at the fashionably dressed man beside him.

"This is my Lord Carleton, Reverend Thomas, oh and I'm Hopgood sir in case you've forgotten."

Carleton reached out to shake the reverend's hand. "How d'ye do, sir? I have an unusual request of you. May I introduce my betrothed?" At this Frances descended from the carriage and came towards the small group, followed more slowly by Mrs Pearson.

The Reverend Thomas's face lit with sudden recognition, as had Mrs Pearson previously when she first set eyes on Frances. "Henry!" he exclaimed. "I beg your pardon!" he blushed.

"No, you are correct, sir," responded Frances, smiling, "I am Frances Metcalf, Henry was my father. And this is my companion Mrs Pearson, she was also my mother Amanda's nurse."

"My goodness me! What a surprise! But how can I help you?" he inquired, puzzled.

"Miss Metcalf and I wish to be married," Carleton said firmly. "I have a special licence with me."

"But, surely, your own parish ...?" asked the rector, astonished.

Frances spoke up, "To be honest sir, we have a problem with my grandmother, Lady Murray. I have lived abroad all my life and have only just met her. You are aware from John's enquiries that she had some doubts as to whether my parents were truly married?"

The rector was nodding, "But surely I was able to put those to rest?"

"Yes indeed," responded Frances warmly, "You cannot know how grateful I am to you. But Lady Murray is reluctant to recognise me still, and I suspect there will be a legal battle over my inheritance. Lord Carleton and I wish to be married as soon as possible so that we may confront this together as husband and wife. I do not have any place to stay for the three weeks required for banns, except with my Lord Carleton, and we thought this would be a better alternative, especially since you knew my parents."

Mrs Pearson was nodding throughout this, a picture of a respectable elderly lady and the rector looked at her, "Excuse me," he glanced apologetically at Frances, "but you can confirm this?"

"Yes indeed rector, unfortunately it is all too true, my Lady's behaviour has been a grave disappointment to me and would be to her daughter too, if she were still with us, God rest her soul." She held her handkerchief to her eye again.

"I am twenty four years old, reverend, certainly of an age to know my own mind, will you do this for us? I beseech you." Frances pressed, her hands reaching out to clasp his.

More prosaically, Carleton took the licence from his pocket and handed it to the rector. "You may see everything is in order, sir."

The rector looked from one to the other and sighed. "Very well, when did you have in mind?"

"As soon as possible rector, there will be just the four of us attending. Mr Hopgood and Mrs Pearson can serve as witnesses," Carleton answered promptly.

"In that case, give me a few minutes to prepare and I will meet you over at the church."

Frances and Carleton thanked him and the small party walked the few yards to St Martin's church, pausing a few moments to admire the mullioned windows with their stone arches. In an hour or less they would be married, Frances had to pinch herself to verify that she was not asleep and dreaming, she leant over to Carleton and whispered, "Are you sure of this, Richard?"

He looked down at her, "I was never more certain of anything in my life! Not feeling missish are you?" he smiled. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?"

She coloured up, "You don't need to offer me Spanish coin, my lord," she scolded.

For answer, he pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips, "Beautiful!" he insisted.

A few moments later, Frances Metcalf and Lord Richard Carleton were married in the same church as Frances' parents twenty five years earlier, with Mrs Pearson crying happy tears into her handkerchief and John Hopgood as witness and self-conscious groomsman, handing over the two gold rings Carleton had thoughtfully provided himself with after getting the special licence.

"Where will you go now?" asked the rector chattily after the service. "Will you travel to Chatswood this evening? I am afraid I cannot offer you any hospitality myself, but The Chequers is a fine inn at Sevenoaks, if you would prefer to stay overnight and set out tomorrow."

Carleton looked at his little party, Mrs Pearson in particular appeared rather worn and it would take at least three hours to reach Chatswood, perhaps a stay in Sevenoaks would be the best. "Thank you, reverend, I think we shall try The Chequers if that is acceptable to you Frances?"

She nodded gratefully, "I think we would all appreciate a good meal and a rest tonight, Richard."

They thanked Reverend Thomas again and John drove them to Sevenoaks, where they soon found The Chequers to be as warm and inviting as the rector had promised, particularly when John announced they were newlywed. Carleton and Frances were shown the best room and promised a small parlour where they could eat their dinner in private. Mrs Pearson said a tray in her room would suit her best and John decided he would eat in the common room so that the couple could have their first meal as man and wife by themselves.

Frances looked at Carleton a little shyly as they sat down to their dinner, "I think this is the first time we have been alone that I have not been dressed as Peter."

He laughed, "Perhaps when we are at home, you can dress as Peter sometimes for old times' sake, if you would like to, that is?"

She looked at him in pleased surprise, "Yes, I would like that, if you do not think our neighbours would be too shocked. Especially for riding," she added darkly, "I never liked riding with a side saddle, one always feels about to fall off! You do not mind seeing me in breeches?"

He lowered his voice, "I love seeing you in breeches, you have beautiful long legs. Perhaps you will start a new fashion." Frances flushed again and Carleton lost all interest in food. He leant across the table and said, "I can hardly wait to make love to you but I will not rush you, any time you feel uncomfortable, just tell me to stop and I will."

"You make me fall in love with you all over again when you say things like that," she told him, smiling into his eyes. "I think I have eaten sufficient, what about you?"

He was on his feet and around the table almost before she had finished speaking, "Let's go to our room, now!" His voice was hoarse, as he drew back her chair and ushered her out of the parlour. As soon as he had shut the bedroom door they were in each others' arms, kissing frantically, Carleton holding her tightly against him. Eventually he wrenched his mouth away and put his hands unsteadily on her shoulders, "Do you need help to take off your dress?"

He tried to calm himself enough so that he could undo the tiny buttons without ripping them off, that would hardly reassure her he would be a gentle lover, nor did Frances have that many spare clothes to trifle with! Finally he managed to undo enough buttons so that she could take the gown off herself, and he hastily pulled off his boots and stripped off his clothes as fast as he could.

By the time he was naked, she had slipped under the bed covers and was watching him wide-eyed. He slid in next to her and gently drew her towards him. The feel of her smooth skin against his side was nearly enough to drive him wild again, "We will take this slowly," he whispered, lightly stroking her hair, "Let's lie here and get accustomed to the feel of each other. Kiss me, Frances."

She leant closer and kissed his mouth, her breasts pressing against his side, she loved the warm feel of his arm around her and his hand on her back and pressed harder against him. His other hand came around to caress the curve of her hip, then up to her breasts. She reached out to tentatively run her hand over the hard muscles of his chest then slowly explored lower down to his flat stomach. "Tell me what to do."

(Author's Note - There are about 5-6 chapters left to post - please let me know what you think of the story so far. I love to read everyone's comments.)

�