Just a little drabble that came to mind. I have an idea for a longer story and several chapters outlined, but not sure when I will get back to it. So, I'll just post this for now and keep working on the other.

Disclaimer: Frances Hodgsen Burnett owns all and she did great with it.

The Wedding

It was late in the evening, but neither party showed signs of ending yet. Dickon sat back in his chair and watched the dancing with laughing eyes. Out of breath his sister Martha dropped into the chair next to him.

"Eh, what a party," she laughed. "Most of the village has turned up here and the house is full to burstin with those in for the formal party inside as well."

"Well, it isn't everyday Master Colin gets married," Dickon grinned. "And you can't expect something small and commonplace to do for him."

"That's so I suppose," Martha chuckled, "It'll be interesting to see if Miss Mary's is as grand."

"Miss Mary?" one of the scullery maids joined them "Is she to be getting married soon too?"

"Not that I know of," Martha answered, noticing the sudden tension in Dickon's face. "But I imagine it's only a matter of time, Medlock told Mother that Master Colin's friends are constantly asking for invitations to the house so they can see her and Medlock was surprised that she came home without a beau because word was she could have had any that she wanted in London and was always being escorted to some ball or other."

"She certainly did turn out to be a beauty and so kind and friendly too once she grew up" the maid nodded, "A shame it is, that when she does marry she'll leave and be the Lady at some other home. We'll all miss her here."

Martha nodded in agreement but changed the topic while keeping an eye on her brother's face, he hadn't added to the conversation and his eyes looked suddenly sorrowful and lost in thought. "Oh dear," she thought to herself, "I shall have to have a talk with Mother. She was right it seems that Dickon may be feeling more than friendship for Miss Mary. He certainly seems sad at the thought of her getting married and leaving. I know they're friends, but something in his eyes seems too heartbroken for friendship."

Dickon was ignoring the rest of the talk between Martha and the maid, he was thinking of Miss Mary marrying some faceless man and was not aware of the sorrow in his eyes. As he glanced around hoping for a distraction he noticed a slender shadow moving out of a side door of the house and slipping stealthily down a garden path away from the parties and lights. He smiled to himself, having an idea of who it could be. He made his preoccupied excuses to the two women and headed after the shadow.

Martha noticed his distraction but had failed to see the slight shadow. She frowned after him, thinking he was just trying to ignore the possibility of Miss Mary getting married and resolved to speak to her mother as soon as possible.

Dickon had no trouble finding the shadow again after he left the lights and noise behind, he could find a frightened fox alone on the moor in the moonlight and the shadow was quite a bit larger; it also didn't hurt that he already had an idea of where it was headed. As he suspected, the shadow moved down the long walk to the Secret Garden and then disappeared behind the ivy wall. He followed without conscious thought, stepping though the ivy and gently closing the door behind him.

Dickon turned to see the garden bathed in moonlight, awash in pastel blooms and soft shadows. In the center of the light was an angel. He could only stare in wonder at the sight before him. Mary sat on the swing, gently swaying, her curls gleaming in the dim light, her face tilted up to the soft moonlight; eyes open and soft, lips parted in a smile. Dickon knew then that he was lost, had been since they were children. He loved her. He didn't want to think about what that would mean for him or the heartbreak that it would lead to, he only wanted to feel that love overwhelm him for tonight. Quietly, he stepped closer to her, wanting only to touch her and verify that this was real and not some dream that he had wandered into.

Mary turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps and was unsurprised to see Dickon standing there. She felt the Magic had been calling to her and so she supposed it had been calling him too.

"The party isn't over already it is?" Dickon asked her thickly.

"No," she smiled, "it's such a beautiful night, I just had to see the garden. I slipped away between dances, I was tired of it anyway."

"Tired of dancing," he laughed. "I don't believe it, you love to dance."

Mary laughed softly as well, "Not tired of dancing, tired of being swarmed by Colin's friends, tired of my Uncle wanting to introduce me to just one more esteemed family friend and their son."

Dickon felt a sense of recklessness take him, as if tonight would not have repercussions in the morning light. "Well, since you had to give up your dancing to escape, perhaps you would care to dance with me?" Hearing soft music from over the garden walls he held out his hand, scarcely hoping she would take it,

Mary looked delighted and immediately stood and took his hand, "Why thank you kind sir." She curtsied and gave him an arch look, letting him lead her in a dance around the flowering garden. She felt completely alive, noticing every detail; the way his eyes reflected the stars, the feel of his work-muscled arms around her slender form, the rough cloth of his shirt under her hand. Her feelings for Dickon had been more than she was willing to admit for so long, and yet to be in his arms in the moonlight seemed too much like a dream for her to trust it. She found herself wanting to take chances, afterall if this was only a dream then there was no risk for either of them. She leaned in towards him until her cheek was resting against his strong shoulder and she breathed in the scents of the moor that always seemed to cling to him.

Dickon could smell the soft scent of her hair as it brushed under his chin, he could hardly believe that he was holding her in his arms, something he had never even dared to do in his dreams. He was so enraptured at the feeling of her closeness that he hadn't even noticed that he had stopped dancing and was simply standing near the swing with his arms around her.

Mary noticed that they had stopped moving and pulled back slightly to look up at him. "Dickon?" she asked softly. He looked down and met her eyes, and she saw her own feelings echoed there. Being more forward than any well-bred young lady should be, she let her hand leave his shoulder and skim along the back of his neck, gently drawing his face down to hers. Reaching up on her toes she hesitatingly pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. Almost frightened by her own boldness she pulled back quickly to see his reaction, had she just overstepped their comfortable relationship?

Dickon barely had time to react to the tentative kiss before he could feel her starting to pull away. Before he could even think to stop himself he pressed his hand against her back, pulling her closer to him and lowering his head back down to hers to reclaim the kiss. It was deeper than the first, fueled by the love, passion and affection they had for each other. After a time that was far too long for propriety and too short for his own taste, Dickon pulled back slightly to watch Mary's face. Her eyes were still closed as her face was tipped up to his and she only blinked them open slowly after a long moment.

"Dickon…." She questioned again softly.

"I'm sorry Miss Mary," he murmured, "I know I oughtn't to have done that, but I have been wantin' to for so long."

"I'm not sorry at all," Mary declared recklessly, "I've been wanting to as well. I was worried that you wouldn't feel the same" she ventured as she shyly lowered her eyes even as her hands stayed in his hair.

"Miss Mary, you know we canna be together" Dickon started, trying gently to pull away from her.

"Why not?" Mary demanded, the child she had once been revealing itself in the imperious tone.

"We are too different, I'm nuthin but a poor moor boy and you are the lady of the house, you will Mary some wealthy lord and move away from here" His voice was heavy with heartache as he finally managed to disentangle himself from her slender arms. "I canna bare to dream of a future for us only to have it ripped away by the light of day."

"I don't care." Mary declared, reaching for him again. "I want nothing to do with society and all the men Uncle and Colin keep pushing at me. Let Colin and his bride set up house in London and leave me here in peace. Colin loves it there, the universities and museums and parties praising his greatness. I want to be here, among my flowers with you." She paused and seemed to draw in a great breathe as if stealing herself to do something daring. "I love you Dickon. I always have. There is nothing else I want in the world than to be with you among our flowers, no matter what kind of life that gives us."

Mary forced herself to keep her eyes on Dickon as she declared her love, she had been wanting to tell him for some time and now she had to know what his reaction would be; to see it in his eyes.

Dickon sucked in a breathe at her statement, hope warring with his concerns. When he saw a glimmer of fear enter Mary's eyes, he knew he had remained silent too long. "Mary, I do love tha," he exclaimed. "You're the only one I think of, I just don't know what kind of life I can offer thee."

Mary smiled in relief and happiness, her Dickon loved her, there was nothing as important in the whole world. "We can worry about that tomorrow," she said as she wrapped her arms around him again and pressed herself against his sturdy chest. "I have some money of my own from my parents and we can talk to Uncle. But for now, I just want to be here with you in our garden with the magic."

"Aye, the magic" Dickon replied as his arms enveloped her. "Tha used to say you thought I made it, but I think it was you." He leaned back slightly so that he could bend down and begin kissing her again. "You are the magic in my life and all I need."