Charlotte is captured

The heat of the late afternoon was too oppressive to wait any longer. Three months ago, Randy had chosen a path of vengeance and the perfect target had finally presented itself before him. Taking the neckcloth from under his shirt, he tied a knot in the middle of the four-foot length of cloth. One of the many things he learnt during the two-year whaling cruise was how to 'recruit' new seamen to replace the men who died during the voyage. Hanging around dockside bars late at night he became quite proficient at gagging and binding men and walking them back to his ship just before the morning tide.

Compared to a wild drunken sailor, a slender young woman like Charlotte Marlton should be easy prey; and prey she now was. In her tan dress she even looked like a slender yearling doe and Randolph moved towards her with the same patience he used when poaching in her father's forests. Sliding silently from one hiding place to the next he got to within five paces of where she stood at the edge of the brook. She was no longer calling for her horse but stood like a hind sensing danger but not knowing where to run.

Charlotte was uneasy, not only was her horse behaving badly, but for the last few minutes the forest seemed to have grown eerily silent. The cheerful singing of a warbler was replaced by a Jay's harsh call, and the sun which had been so warm just minutes before had disappeared behind a cloud casting a shadow over her little private beach. Tapping her riding crop impatiently against her hand she tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched.

Charlotte no longer had any desire at all to take off her stockings and wade in the pool of water before her. She just wanted to recapture her gelding and get back to her room for tea and a chance to rest before changing into yet a different gown for another dreadful dinner. Lately, her father had taken to inviting every eligible bachelor in Southern England to dine at his table so they could be introduced to his marriageable daughter.

Several times in the past month these guests included officers from the 43rd Infantry who had been charged with securing the roads in the county. First, Colonel Touring had bored her with a dreary description of his role in the 'shameful debacle in the Americas' and two weeks ago Lieutenant Easton had been invited to share the evening meal. The unfortunate young Lieutenant might have been much better company than his blustering commanding officer, but he barely spoke more than a word or two the entire evening.

Today's dinner would be particularly annoying as she would have to listen to their tips on riding so she could avoid dangerous falls. "Humph" She snorted out loud, Copper would have to find his own way home, she decided and turned back to get her boots.

She walked right into the chest of a man several inches taller than her and gasped as she felt his arms catch her and spin her around effortlessly. As her mouth opened to scream, a ball of rags was **** between her white teeth. Swinging her whip out of instinct, she landed a blow across the square chin of her assailant and a red welt appeared on his cheek that had a day's worth of stubble. It was a handsome face she noted even as she struggled, but the cold anger of his blue eyes was as fierce as a falcon's and his body was hard where hers was soft.

"I'll take that my lady," the man said, twisting her crop from her hand as easily as if she were a child, "before you do me any more harm." The cloth that gagged her encircled her head completely and he held the ends tightly together behind her ears with just one hand. His other hand gripped her wrist with a strength that she had never in her short life felt.

"Pick up your boots, lass." He said releasing her wrist but wrapping his tan arm around her waist and bending her over as if she were a child's doll. Her hands were just inches from the blue leather boots but instead of picking them up she folded her arms in defiance. In her current position she could feel the strength of his arm around her waist and the hardness of his hips where their bodies met, but she refused to be ordered about like a servant.

"OK," He laughed, "but this will be a long, hard walk on your pretty feet, and I don't think those scraps of silk will do much to protect them."

His arrogance and irreverence were infuriating, but Charlotte knew that if she had any chance to escape from this brigand, she would need shoes on her feet. Picking up the boots she relaxed her body and let herself be lowered to the ground so she could put them on. It took a while for her to get her boots on, her servants would normally slide the elegant leather onto her feet and lace them for her. After a brief struggle she pulled the boots back onto her feet and tied the long laces around her ankles so they would not drag on the ground. As she worked, she tried several times to speak, but the hard knot of cloth in her mouth made her attempts futile.

She was completely and totally helpless, for now she would just have to wait and see what his intentions were.