Mr. Fuller

"Well look what I found." Mr. Fuller's low smooth baritone was somehow soothing even though the highwayman's sudden appearance armed with both a naval cutlass and a flintlock pistol in his belt was as dangerous looking as his reputation.

"Mr. Fuller." Gasped Charlotte in stunned surprise, it was almost as though her prayers had been answered. "You can't be here." He was as tall as she had remembered, although more neatly dressed than the day before in a white linen shirt, and grey trousers tucked neatly into his boots. Mr. Fuller's jaw was freshly shaven and his blond hair was pulled back neatly and tied with a ribbon of black silk; Charlotte wondered for a second if he had taken the time to shave and fix his hair in an effort to please her.

"I see my secret has been discovered," Mr. Fuller smiled wryly, "but why can't I be here?" Charlotte could feel the heat in her cheeks as she stepped towards the man. Had she suggested bringing Jason and Priscilla to this secluded chapel because she secretly hoped to meet again with this outlaw?

"Please, if Jason sees you here he could recognize you." Charlotte took another step bringing the blonde brigand almost close enough to touch. "I don't want there to be trouble." As she whispered the words she glanced towards the arched gate fully expecting to see Jason Worthington standing in the doorway with his sword in his hand. The way Mr. Fuller's cutlass hung comfortably from its worn sheath suggested he knew how to use it, and Jason was an experienced fencer, a clash between the two would certainly end in bloodshed.

"Your friends are busy, and if that little minx has her way, they'll be busy for a while still." Mr. Fuller smiled down at her and Charlotte could feel a tingling low in her belly, the sensation was not unpleasant but a little disquieting all the same. Why was it that when she found herself within arm's length of this commoner she melted like a icicle on a winter hearth?

"Oh." She sounded like a tongue-tied teen meeting the Prince of Wales. Mr. Fuller however didn't seem to notice her awkwardness and sat down on a stone block near one of the baskets of food and poured himself a glass of wine.

"Do you mind?" He asked a little belatedly. "Its been a long while since I've had a fine food and wine like this." Charlotte shook her head dumbly, still unsure how to respond to this irritating man. "It's not that odd that we meet again," He told her as he buttered a fresh-baked roll, "I've been watching your family's estate and followed you here today." Once again Charlotte wondered if she she be terrified or flattered, he had risked being discovered to be with her. Charlotte found it impossible to be angry at Mr. Fuller, and her private chat with Lt. Easton was even more troubling.

"I'm sorry about Mary." Charlotte murmured quietly as she sat on the blanket leaving some space between her and Mr. Fuller, but not as much space as her aunts would have approved of with any man - not to mention an outlaw like Black Brand! Really she should be confessing to Mr. Fuller what she had done, but for some inexplicable reason she wanted desperately for him to like her.

Randy took a large gulp of the burgundy, he had mixed feelings about the fact that Miss Marlton knew his true identity; on one hand it was a danger to him and even more so to his family, but on the other hand it was a relief to have his identity back. He had never wanted to be Black Brand, he wanted nothing more than to live as his father had lived before him - not that that could ever happen anymore. From his position looking down at Lady Marlton sitting on the blanket Randy could see into the the neckline of her dress and the sight of her rounded flesh almost made him forget why he had come in the first place. He **** himself to raise his eyes to meet hers, but honestly that did little to relieve the attraction he felt for this most unusual young woman.

The memory of her lithe body in his arm, the softness of her warm skin and the way she had responded to his passionate kisses made it impossible to ignore the woman kneeling at his feet. What would she say he wondered, if he joined her on the blanket and resumed his passionate seduction ...

"Yes, me too." Randy belatedly acknowledged Lady Charlotte's attempt at empathy, trying not to think about how good she had felt in his arms in that first encounter by the creek. He pulled a small red book from his belt pouch and showed it to Miss Marlton.

"Can you think of who might have given this book to Mary?" He asked as he passed the volume of poetry to Lady Marlton.