She passes the first test

The next hour passed by in a blur. Charlotte saw her father ride by her without a word accompanied by several officers and over a score or two of infantrymen just before she was remanded into the care of her Aunt Jane.

“Everything will be fine, Dear.” Her Aunt Jane, always thin and stern, looked gaunt and exhausted with worry as she clutched Charlotte's hand in hers and pressed it to her bosom. “Let's get you home as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Charlotte was handed the reigns of one of the older stable mares, the Arabian was once one of her favorites, but now almost fifteen years old she was only still in the stables because of her slow and gentle gait. The pot-bellied mare was saddled with a regular saddle not her side saddle but Charlotte gratefully swung her leg over the chestnut brown mare.

“Are you comfortable, Dear?” Asked her Aunt eyeing her in surprise. “No one thought to saddle Sally with a side-saddle.” Charlotte took a moment to arrange her skirts more modestly and turned the good-natured mare in a tight circle.

“I'm fine, Aunt Jane. A little shaken but fine.”

“Oh thank-God.” Jane Marlton sighed with relief and mounted her pony with far less worry on her face. It was only after a few minutes that Charlotte understood her Aunt's relief. It had been years since she had ridden on a regular saddle, and had forgotten what the steady rubbing of her groin against the front of the saddle felt like. Had she been **** by Black Brand the saddle would surely have made her wince with each rocking motion of the long-toothed Arabian.

The slow ride back to Marlton Manor passed mostly in silence. Charlotte found herself thinking more about what was happening at Black Brand's cave than the series of questions she knew she'd be facing back home. Thank God for the groom's error, at least the cynical Jane Marlton believed that she hadn't suffered the ultimate violation. Even more pressing than her own unpleasant future of questions, innuendos and gossip that would follow her like a cloud of dust behind a herd of cattle were her doubts about revealing her captor's location. If only she knew if Mr. Fuller had gotten away or had been captured with-out any bloodshed.

Would the irritating outlaw have enough sense to surrender when confronted by Major Talbot and Jason? He might well have attempted to defend his lair like a fierce badger facing down a pack of hunting dogs. However, no-one could stand against the King's Foot. Almost 50 men with muskets led by the young Lieutenant Easton would fire volley after volley of lead hail into the cave while others scaled the steep cliffs until they could charge into his lair with gleaming bayonets. Not even the dangerous highwayman could live through that kind of coordinated ****, Charlotte prayed again that Mr. Fuller would give himself up with-out a fight.

Even after his outrageous treatment of her, Charlotte could not stand the thought that Fuller's shattered, blood-stained body would be dragged back like the torn body of a fox after a successful fight. Fuller's mother would lose her son less than a year after the **** of Mary, it would break her heart.

Once safely home Charlotte hugged Priscilla and Beatrice who ran out to greet the returning party, allowing the two women to kiss her several times as they wrapped their arms around her waist and steer her past the line of curious servants and up to her bedroom. Aunt Elizabeth was waiting in her chamber, she must have sensed the relief of her sister because her worried face brightened noticeably when Jane and the other female guests all escorted Charlotte to her room.

Charlotte tried to assure them that she didn't need their help but all of them wanted to hear what had happened between her and the roguish highwayman who had her at his mercy, and how she had been able to escape from his clutches unscathed.