He shows her a book.

“Have you ever seen a volume like this?” Mr. Fuller asked with such intensity that even though Charlotte was caught completely by surprise she swallowed her confusion and studied the object in his hand.

Charlotte looked at the small red volume with interest, why would Black Brand care about a book? He was watching her carefully; she could feel the intensity of his gaze without even looking at him. Somehow she was no longer afraid, the man was a known outlaw who had dragged her deep into the woods, treating her so outrageously and was now in her moonlit bedchamber late at night, but she no longer feared him. She took a deep breath trying to suppress the memory of her response to his caresses not realizing how her rising chest made her breasts strain against the thin cotton of her night gown. Randy certainly noticed though and he couldn't help wonder what Lady Marlton would do if he climbed into her bed by her side.

“What is it?” She asked as she tried to get a good look at the small red volume.

“Poetry” Randy told her placing the small volume in her hand “Shakespeare's sonnets. Have you seen it before?” He asked again trying to sound casual but eager to learn who Mary's 'Jack' might be. Would Charlotte really help him? Why should she, he berated himself bitterly after the way he treated her?

“I'm sorry, perhaps someone else in my house would know.” Charlotte could sense the strange gentleman's emotion as he asked about the book. Not wanting to disappoint him she continued boldly. “Shall I find out for you?” Why was she offering to help this brigand?

Randy scowled when he heard Charlotte's offer. Why would the daughter of Lord Marlton offer to help the very man terrorizing her family’s estates? She was far more likely to lead him into a trap than betray any of her companions. But he couldn't refuse her offer; it was the best chance he had to learn what he needed to know. More importantly he wanted to continue seeing this intriguing woman, to feel her in his arms without forcing himself upon her. God he wanted her to trust him, and to be able to trust her in return.

“That is most uncommonly kind of you to offer Lady Charlotte.” He was acutely aware of the how beautiful Charlotte was dressed only in her nightgown as she lay under her sheets, once before he had felt her in his arms and the desire came back like a flame from the embers of a fire pit. “I think I had better leave now.” He said rising abruptly and turning quickly from her to hide the painful bulge in his trousers. If he stayed any longer he would not be able to restrain himself.

"Wait!" He was leaving! Charlotte felt an unexpected panic. He was leaving and she didn't even know if she'd ever see him again. Charlotte had hoped he would stay by her side and talk with her. Perhaps hold her hand in his as the dark of the night passed or even hold and kiss her as he had the day of the hunt. Had she done something wrong that had pushed him away?

"Your book!" She stammered looking for any reason to have her return to her bedside.

"Keep it for now." Randy told her trying not to stare at her as she sat up in her bed, with quilt piled on her lap all modesty forgotten. "Do you know the ruins of the old Papist chapel east of here?"

"Saint Theresa's?" Charlotte knew it well, the roof had long ago collapsed, only the four rose covered walls remained and the chapel floor was now covered in soft moss. As a teen Charlotte liked to imagine that the chapel had been built by Celtic Druids, not her Norman ancestors one thousand years after the last of the forest priests wandered these woods.

"Yes, I know it." Charlotte answered slowly slightly confused by both the sudden change in topic and Mr. Fuller's sudden retreat.

"I will be there most afternoons this week if you learn something of interest." Mr. Fuller told her as he stood facing the window he had so recently climbed through.