Follow Randy

"Fuck me!" Randy muttered under his breath as he retrieved his weapons belt and slipped deeper into the old forest. "I must be the worst brigand that ever inhabited these glades." He had her isolated from any hope of rescue and he let her go! The only daughter of his sworn enemy and what did he do? Offer her a book of poetry and then send her on her way.

"Oh, but what a woman!" The words slipped from his lips as he remembered just how wonderful Lady Marlton had felt pressed to the ground under his hard body. His lips still tingled from the feel of her face when he was kissing her. Randy grinned like a school boy as he relived the pleasure of holding Miss Charlotte in his arms and exploring her cheek and temple with his kisses. That experience would haunt his memory for weeks to come. Her maidenly innocence combined with the natural fervor of her response made him ache for more. Would she come see him at the old papist chapel? Randy doubted it, as soon as cool reason returned, Miss Marlton would undoubtedly realize how outrageous his behavior had been.

More likely than not, the spirited gentlewoman would send wardens to the chapel to arrest him for the liberties he had taken. Despite his reservations, Randy knew he'd be at Saint Theresa's every afternoon of this week. In his mind, the opportunity to meet with Miss Charlotte again in private far outweighed the dangers of his apprehension by officers of the law.

Somewhere in Randy's calculus was the knowledge that Lady Marlton might be able to help him identify his Mary's mysterious 'Jack'. Perhaps even she could even use her position to see justice carried out. But truthfully, finding Mary's paramour and avenging his treatment of her was no longer the primary driving **** in his life. How was it that a cold blooded reptile like Marlton could sire a daughter as passionate as his beautiful daughter?

Randy's mind raced as he made his way along the river path back to his hideout. He had found the secret cave years ago when he wandered the woods as a teen, although at the time he imagined he was a knight errant questing for the Holy Grail more often than a highwayman like Robin Hood. The main entrance was hidden fifteen feet above the grassy banks of the river hidden behind a wall of water that fell into the deep pool at the base of the falls. The other two entrances were much smaller gaps in rocks that once many years before lay in the bed of the river's path.

Once in his lair Randy lit a fire in the main chamber and looked around the room critically. What would Charlotte think of living in a cave like this? It was a palace compared to his other lairs, with a flat floor and a crackling fire it was easily as comfortable as his family's ancestral cottage that was now crumbling from its two years of neglect. A ship's lantern hung from the roots that supported the arched ceiling above. Randy even had a bed; and not just any bed, a bed fit for a lord.

It was in fact Lord Marlton's own bed ordered from a luxury bedmaker in London. Randy carried the massive bed frame one peice at a time from the wagon he had stopped late one afternoon as it passed along side the great forest. Of all the crimes committed in his campaign against the Marlton household none gave him more satisfaction than the theft of Lord Marlton's great bed. Randy had reassembled the peices in the cave and carried the great mattress up through the falls to place upon the bed. It had taken almost two days for the mattress to dry and several more weeks for Randy to accumulate the collection of blankets and quilts that now covered the bed, but it was worth all the effort he put into it. After kicking off his worn boots Randy stretched out on the bed and watched the sparks lift slowly from the fire up through the crevasse above that formed a natural chimney.

Randy let out a long slow sigh as reality set in. The only daughter of Lord Marlton would never leave a manor with over fifty rooms, populated by maids, cooks, grooms and servants to live in a cave with a wanted man; he had been given the perfect opportunity to avenge the treatment of his sister in the Marlton estates and instead he let himself be befuddled by the sweet kiss of his enemy. All the same for the next hour or so of daylight, He made the place as neat as a royal navy ship before her admiralty inspection. By nightfall he washed his shirt and neckcloth, and by the light of the great lantern hemmed the frayed edges of his trousers before hanging the clothes out to dry.

All the same he would try to meet with Miss Marlton at Saint Theresa’s and damned be all the reasons why he shouldn’t.