Randy lets her go.

"GO!" Randy's words surprised him as much as they surprised Charlotte. "Walk that way." He pointed towards the old road Charlotte had attempted to reach, "You'll find a clear path, if you follow the markers to the left you will be back at Marlton Manner before sunset." Randy climbed to his feet and stepped to the edge of the water refusing to look at Charlotte as he derided himself.

He should never have taken her he realized; in theory it was the perfect vengeance of an outlaw, but he was not a perfect outlaw. Had he been the man that Marlton thought, he would have completed the plan without mercy. Instead, he realized with a grim smile, he was the brother that Mary knew. The knowledge that she would approve released some of the angry tension from his shoulders.

"I don't understand." Charlotte's voice startled him. "You are letting me go?" Randy turned back to Charlotte. She was standing only a few feet from where he left her, she had pulled her torn dress back onto her shoulder covering her delicious breasts, but the wet material clung to her body clearly outlining the flare of her hips and the long curve of her thigh. "But my father would pay for my release."

"I told you Lady Charlotte I DON'T WANT YOUR FATHER'S STINKING MONEY!" Randy regretted yelling as soon as he saw Charlotte's body shrink in fear from his, dropping his voice in defeat he turned the command into a request. "Please, just go.” Randy turned back towards the soothing sight of the fast flowing brook and added quietly “Be sure to tell your father that I treated you better than your household treated Mary.” As soon as he spoke he realized what a dreadful mistake he had made. If Lord Marlton linked Black Brand with Mary Fuller then Randy Fuller was the obvious culprit, his mother would be the one to pay for his inability to keep his emotions in check. There was something about Charlotte that got under his skin like a salt rash. Randy stared at the late afternoon light reflecting through the mist from the falls until he heard the sound of Charlotte’s retreat.

Charlotte’s mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts as she hurried away from the riverbank through the thick underbrush. She knew who Black Brand was and why he had seemed so familiar. Charlotte wasn’t sure if it was the half heard mention of Mary’s name, or the raw fury of his anger that prompted her memory, but Charlotte was as sure as the throne of the empire that she had figured out the highwayman’s identity.

Randy Fuller must make it his goal in life to complicate hers. Her birthday party late last fall was completely ruined by his uncouth manners. Her guests soon seemed to have dismissed his horrible interruption, but the sudden news of Mary’s ****, and his accusations against Lord Marlton’s judgement of the naive servant girl awoke her own misgivings at her father’s treatment of shy little Mary. None of the planned amusements, not even her friends and families best attempts could lighten her mood after seeing Randy beaten from the dance hall. Long before the party ended Charlotte had retreated to her chambers and neither her father’s threats nor her aunts whining and other petty manipulations brought her from her chambers and back to her duties as a hostess.

And this time, Mr. Fuller **** her by ****! Her jaw still ached from the wretched gag and her shoulders and wrists were sore from her **** march. Not to mention … Charlotte could not even begin to process the wild flood of emotion that swept through her body as she relived his passionate touch. Anger, desire, guilt and excitement all swirled in a mélange of feelings as she remembered Randy’s bold caresses and wild kisses. Her breasts swelled against her bodice pinching her hard nipples against the lace of her dress even as her hands clenched into fists and her boots stomped against the packed dirt of the old road.

He had laughed at her! She had been ready to submit to his wild seduction, and just as she burned with a fire she had never experienced the Highwayman laughed at her and sent her away. As she made her way back to the safety of her father’s estate, she wrestled with the weight of her new found knowledge. If she spoke to her father, he could both destroy Fuller's hideout and arrest his mother and hold her until he surrendered. But Mrs. Fuller deserved none of this. She didn’t deserve to have her daughter corrupted, nor did she ask for her son to turn outlaw. Could she live with herself if she gave up this secret?

An hour latter she heard the sounds of searchers approaching any chance of slipping quietly back to her house was clearly out of the question. Could she send her father's men to capture Black Brand, if she didn't, how could she explain the missing hours and torn dress? As she stood in the old forests trying to come to a decision, Charlotte also found herself wondering what Black Brand was doing at this moment?