Marlton shows some mercy

“Forty lashes, pilloried for a day in each of the four villages, and then off to the Australian Penal colony.” Charlotte sat at the side table watching her father announce the verdict. The trial had lasted little more than an hour with several of the men robbed by Black Brand identifying him as the Highwayman. Charlotte wore a severe gown of dark burgandy velvet with lace trim around her throat and wrists. The dress had been tailored more for winter weather than this midsummer’s day but even so, she felt a cool chill sweep through her as her father read his verdict.

There were few other women in the great hall but most of the men nodded in agreement with the sentence.

“Honestly, I thought he’d hang.” Whispered one of the wardens to her right and in general the decision to send the Highwayman to serve the rest of his life in the deserts of down-under was met with approval by most. Charlotte was not one of them. She had heard of men dying from this sever a lashing and the occasional stories she’d read in the London Times about the harsh conditions in Australia left her sitting in shocked silence. It was better than hanging, but just barely.

Lieutenant Easton met her eyes with a troubled gaze and she knew that he too felt disturbed by the sentence handed down by Lord Marlton. Perhaps for the very first time in Charlotte’s sheltered life she wondered about the fairness of having the lord of the land decide the punishment of those that had transgressed against that very same man.

Fuller was led behind the officer’s wagon surrounded by a dozen musket men back down to the courtyard in the center of the village and his hands were tied to the heavy pole that stood there for this very purpose. There was no way for Lady Marlton to join the crowds that assembled to witness the lashing but she was able to see the pillory from the gardens overlooking the village below. Even from this distance she could see Mr. Fuller’s shirt torn from his back and the burly sergeant take off his scarlet uniform top and move to his side.

From her distant vantage point she was too far away to hear his cries of pain or see the blood running down his back, but she could see Mr. Fuller’s back became nearly the same color as the red uniforms of the guards around the squares. It was just as well Charlotte decided when they finally carried him away that she had been spared the worst if the flogging. She was badly shaken by the time she walked quietly from the gardens and into the house to sit in the music room and strum the strings of her harp.

She was still there a few hours later when a private from the 43rd arrived at the manor house foyer with a message for Miss Charlotte.