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“Stupid, stupid, STUPID!” Randy muttered as he looked over the pile of supplies he had piled on the bed and calculated how much time he had before Marlton and his men arrived. “What was I thinking?” He added not sure which of his actions angered him the most. From the moment he saw Lady Marlton leading her hobbled horse he made one bad decision after another. What was it about her that made rational thought so difficult?

Randy added the great brass lantern to the pile of supplies he had assembled. The pile was already too large for him to carry easily but he should have enough time to make a few trips before Lady Charlotte told her father where Black Brand’s lair was. He should have kept her. The memory of Miss Charlotte's soft cry as he pressed into her was burned forever into his memory like a hot iron branding pale skin; no matter how many years passed by, he’d never forget how good her tight passage had felt when he had deflowered her or the way her eyes widened at that exact moment.

“I should never have brought her here.” Randy announced to no-one in particular. Charlotte had been far from unwilling when he had spread her legs and pressed himself against her, but that did not excuse his behavior. At the same time he refused to regret his rash action. “Damn! That's an experience I wouldn't trade for all the tea in China!” With another sigh he pushed aside the memory. “And I let her walk out of here!” Randy berated himself for the hundredth time, still unsure if he had done the right thing.

No, willing or not, sending her away had been the right decision Randy assured himself with as much conviction as he could. As eager as Miss Charlotte had been, he could not risk keeping her here with him. As it stood now, the innocent maid may be carrying his child, but if had kept her to have as he wanted there was no doubt in his mind that he would have done to her the same great injustice as had been inflicted upon Mary. His biggest mistake by far had been to take Lady Marlton in the first place Randy decided as he leaned two heavy muskets against the bedframe and slung the powder horns over his shoulders.

The infantry muskets had been a ‘gift’ from one of the first patrols from the 43rd that had been sent out to capture him. He’d led the patrol deeper and deeper into the forest. The soldiers were easy to lure; an occasional glimpse of his back just out of range of the smoothbore muskets or a clear footprint in a moody bank was all that was needed to tempt them deeper and deeper into the woods. The inexperienced patrol followed him without any thought about where they were.

With the two muskets and a bundle of supplies Randy made his first trip to the top of the falls. The second trip included the great lantern, the flasks of oil that it burned, the best of the blankets from his bed and the rest of his food. He stashed most of the supplies inside a hollow tree and reloaded the two muskets to ensure that their priming was not wet from the spray of the falls.

From the top of the falls Randy had a good view of the clearing below. He settled into a comfortable hollow and waited to see who the Marltons would send to destroy his lair and capture him. As he waited he took the time to carefully load the pair of smoothbores and carefully prime the pans. As he tended to the longarms, he thought back to that first real encounter with the company of infantrymen that had been assigned to capture or kill him.

When the foul-mouthed corporal finally began to sense Black Brand was toying with him and his squad, he had started ordering his men back out of the woods. Thinking quickly, Randy had cut his palm and left a bloody rag where the soldiers could not miss it. The thought that one of their wild volleys had wounded Black Brand was all the bad-tempered pig had needed to keep pushing his troops deeper into the damp woodland bog.

By nightfall the exhausted infantrymen had been wet, cold, and hopelessly lost; it had been simple enough to slip the muskets and horns from the sides of two of the sleeping men. He felt bad for the two men who would surely be flogged for the loss of their weapons, but considering that he could have killed the entire five man patrol, he thought they got off lightly. He sighted down the muzzle of the stolen musket and waited for a target worth killing to appear.

With any luck, Lord Marlton himself will be part of the party that rides out to capture him. So far Randy had resisted the temptation to kill any of Marlton’s men sent out to bring him into custody, but he had no reservations about trying his luck at hitting Lord Marlton himself.