Charlotte Brixon sat at her writing desk, finishing her first letter to Mother and Father. Her day had been filled with the usual chores and overseeing the servants in the house and out in the fields. Now in the late afternoon she finally had the time to write her friends and her parents.
Charlotte’s parents were staying at her aunt’s house in Virginia for a few weeks on business. Their house in Pennsylvania was put in charge of Charlotte and her younger sister, Elizabeth.
Charlotte being twenty and Elizabeth seventeen, they were just fine managing the large estate while their parents were gone. It was around five-thirty when Charlotte heard someone entering the sunny salon from the hall.
“Tomorrow Ann wants me to go with her to the market,” Elizabeth sighed, sinking into a fluffy winged chair.
“And?” Charlotte asked with a preoccupied half-smile. She finished her last sentence and sealed the letter.
“And? And I don’t want to at all,” Elizabeth rested her chin in her hand and gazed out at the late-summer scene through the tall french doors. The patio held a sitting space along with a wide, grassy area below that divided into paths, leading into the main garden in the back of the house.
“But I will. It’s either that or mending that terribly ugly dress Grandmother wanted me to fix and then wear at the ball over at the Wilson’s next month. I think I can spend the day with poor Ann and listen to her melodramatic sorrows.”
Elizabeth sat up slightly. “Finish writing Mother and Father?”
“I just got done. I’ll let Thomas take the mail in tomorrow morning since his daughter is sick.”
“Wonderful. I’ll have my letter ready by then anyway. No use sending him twice… Do you hear that?” Elizabeth sat up further and looked to the door. Charlotte did hear the sound of faint hooves approaching the house.
“Archibald said he would stop by with Blake and bring us wildflowers,” Charlotte raised her eyebrows. Elizabeth slapped her hand to her forehead.
“I know I should be grateful that a wealthy young man and his cousin want to visit, but I am not.”
“Blake is more pleasant. I don’t mind him.” Charlotte stood and smoothed her dress.
“I just wish for my sake he would come by himself to visit you. Archibald insists on showing him everything there is to know about the area. Including our house. Multiple times.”
“I think Blake would but he doesn’t want to be rude. At least Archibald is one to never interrupt,” Charlotte commented, moving toward the mirror. “Blake has brilliant ideas but that means, for him, that he can cut into anyone’s sentences as he wishes… including my own, and I don’t care for that even if he is saying something funnier or more clever.”
“In my opinion, I don’t think it really ever is funnier or more clever. But that’s the name of the game, I suppose. I’ll let you welcome them this time. I’ll be here preparing.” Elizabeth leaned back and closed her eyes in good humor. Charlotte laughed and was happy to do so.
In the hall Charlotte met the head housekeeper, Beatrice, who seemed a little on-edge.
“Is it Archibald and Blake?” Charlotte asked happily. The housekeeper shook her head urgently, causing Charlotte’s stomach to churn slightly.
“Soldiers. I believe they are here about your father’s debts.”
“Oh, you know the Crown has been a little ridiculous in their charging my father the amounts they claim. I will handle it, though. This isn’t the first time. Thank you for letting them in, Beatrice. They’re in the drawing room?”
Beatrice only nodded slowly with wide, unnaturally timid eyes. This really wasn’t the first time she had had to deal with Captain Rowand. The short, pompous man was always overly, and awkwardly, flirtatious with her and only came to the house with a few other soldiers to see
Charlotte and to make petty threats to her father. The family was only suspected of rebellious associations, but nothing had ever been said let alone done about it. And very few people even suspected it to begin with. It was mainly the mayor and a few bankers that didn’t care for the way Father did business with merchants with more rebellious, or patriotic, inclinations.
Charlotte put on a false smile and entered the drawing room. One window faced the side garden on the side of the house and the other faced the front driveway. She was surprised to find about five total men waiting outside the front. And the man in the drawing room was not Captain Rowand.
From what she could see, this new scarlet specimen was much taller and broader. He was looking out of the window facing the side gardens with his hands clasped behind his back in dark riding gloves. Without even having to look at him for very long, Charlotte felt he was much keener and alert than the lackadaisical captain.
She delicately cleared her throat, slightly startling him from the engaging view. He turned his head and locked his clear, intelligent eyes on her and assumed a calculatedly guarded but pleasant expression.
“Good Afternoon, officer. I am Charlotte Brixon, Charles Brixon’s daughter. Is there anything I can do for you?” She met him in the center of the room where he shook her hand gently. Had they been at a party under different circumstances, she would have been eager to bask in any kind of conversation with him. He was remarkably handsome compared to any man she had ever seen. His ice-cold eyes seemed to glow against his red uniform and dark hair.
“There is, Miss Brixon. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Colonel Montone of the British Army, unfortunately the matter is private.” He eyed the butler standing at the door who was waiting to be called upon.
“I can assure you Gerick can be trusted, Colonel. Please have a seat and I’ll have tea brought-”
“Thank you but that won’t be necessary,” He interrupted curtly, waving his hand. Charlotte was immediately vexed at this man doing the one thing she hated the most. She hesitated and nearly began another sentence when he changed his mind. “As a matter of fact, there is time,” he said to the butler, as if this was his own house. Gerick nodded politely to Col. Montone and then looked in askance to Charlotte, who subtly nodded in final authority. She was beginning to see what kind of man he was and was actually looking forward to Archibald and Blake’s arrival. Not that she couldn’t handle the lobsterback herself, but a few other gentlemen around would be comforting.
“So what brings you into the neighborhood, Colonel?” she asked, sitting on the sofa. Col. Montone stayed standing next to the hearth.
“I hear your father is out of town?”
“He’s in Virginia, assessing the next shipment that’s headed to the West Indies.”
“He knew of his debts in town, did he not?” Colonel Montone asked a little sarcastically.
“I believe he did.”
“And that his payments were due four days ago?”
“I would assume so. But please excuse me, as I must question why this is brought here? The banks knew he would be away until September. If you need, I have documentation to prove this.” Charlotte was glad she had always paid attention to Mother and Father’s business. Her and Mother knew all there was to know about the situation, as much as Father. “And why they sent soldiers to his house instead of letters to himself in Virginia?”
The colonel’s answer was smugly simple.
“Because they’ve decided to call in the loans today.”
The silence that filled the room was of confusion from her and seemingly anticipated tension from him. She knew that by now Elizabeth was listening through one of the secret passages.
“Well… I’m sorry to say that Mr. Eldon will have to communicate that with my father. I don’t have access to Father’s accounts, and if I did, I would have to talk with Mr. Eldon about the situation personally.
“Oh it wasn’t Mr. Eldon who sent me.” Col. Montone’s slightly humorous eyes bore through her. “It was General Witwell. There are a few charges being held against your father, as he conveniently hid himself away in Virginia.” Col. Montone mockingly flitted his fingers in the southerly direction.
Charlotte, not used to being insulted in such a direct manner, sat in awe at the colonel’s affrontive gumption. Small signals were going off in the back of her mind, telling her to rid him of the house as fast as possible, but if she did so, there would be civil hostility forever between them. And deep down she wasn’t fond of that idea. Still, there was something very wrong about it all. About his men outside, about his attitude, and about his murky demeanor.
“My men and I have been given authorization to start seizing property until the loans have been met,” he bluntly stated. “Come to think of it, I think tea will be out of the question. We must be back before sunset if possible.”
Charlotte sprung from her seat as he started out of the room, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks, which he did, more from his own surprise than her strength. If he would’ve had long, donkey ears, they would have perked up in ardent curiosity.
“What are you talking about? Seizing property? You have absolutely no right!” She took her hand away and moved in front of him to block his way to the door. He laughed singingly.
“My dear little miss, you have no say in the matter, now did I hear you have a sister?”
Charlotte’s heart felt like it turned to lead and sunk into her sick stomach.
“I’m the only one here,” she said through nearly-gritted teeth.
“I’ll try to attempt to believe that,” he smiled. He had the audacity to actually brush past her like they were horses in a corral. Charlotte stood with her mouth hanging open. Never in her life had she come across someone so bold-faced. Col. Montone was quick to start ordering his men around the house. As Gerick was making his way down the hall with the tea tray, he began asking questions to the snooping, unresponsive soldiers. When he made it to Charlotte, all she could think about was Elizabeth.
“Gerick!” she whispered, standing close. “Please send Elizabeth into the forest behind the house until this is over. The colonel is looking for her too, and I can’t let that happen.”
“It will be done, Miss Brixton. What about you?”
“I can handle myself. Just get Elizabeth out of the house as soon as possible.” She left Gerick standing in the hall. He thought to himself for a moment and began retreating to the kitchen where all of the passages came together.
Charlotte went to the front door to find Col. Montone reading off a list with another soldier. His eyes flashed up to her with an air of snobbery before continuing his conversation with the other man. Everything was about confidence, so that’s what she tried.
“I would like to see written orders from your… commanding officer,” she demanded. The tall, lean man next to him snorted and looked up from the paper.
“He is his own commanding officer, m’lady.” This man was very similar to the colonel in looks and mannerisms but significantly taller. One of the tallest men she had ever seen, being a little ungainly. He had to have been a relative of some sort. Behind her, soldiers were already packing things out. Valuable pieces of furniture, decorations, fixtures that had never been touched in her entire lifetime let alone roughly handled out the door. She was beginning to panic. There was nothing she could do to stop them. They would have the whole house ransacked before she could get to the nearest neighbor for help. True, righteous rage began to fill her as all of her family’s belongings were being hauled out.
“You can’t do this!” she pleaded, swatting the paper out of his hands to get his attention.
“I know you have a sister,” he coolly mentioned, ignoring the paper drifting to the floor.
“I told you, I am the only one here! Elizabeth is with Ann today in the market.”
“Edison, I want you to look for this Sister Elizabeth. She will come too.” Col. Montone flicked his finger towards the door. Edison went straight for the stairs. Good. By now Elizabeth should just be leaving the barn with her horse. The forest was extremely thick beyond the field. There would be no way of finding her unless one scoured the whole area.
“You will never take her! Search the whole house if you want! Ann’s parents won’t let you take her once you get to their house!”
Col. Montone turned and walked out the door as she was talking as if he wasn’t listening.
“What do you want with my sister? Why do you want her?” she followed, shouting at him on the large, stone porch. He suddenly whipped around and stood nose to nose, looking down at her.
“Same reason why you will be coming along too. Don’t think you’re exempt,” he snapped, tilting his head. Fear pierced through her again like one more dagger. The thought hadn’t yet crossed her mind. Charlotte stood there completely silent in bewilderment, feeling like she might throw up. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.
All of the hideousness that she never thought would ever be her life was happening at this very moment. Col. Montone just stood watching her with a cold expression as it started to sink in.
In an instant she turned on her heel and tried to run, but within less than three swift strides, she felt Col. Montone’s arms clamp around her and there was absolutely no way she could overpower or outmaneuver him. Not even a scream could escape her as the shock seeped into her bones. She hung limply enough that the colonel stopped and tried to make her stand.
“Get on your feet,” he ordered, still holding her by the waist with her arms at her sides. “I’m not carrying you like this all the way to the horses. Stand!”
Charlotte closed her eyes, feeling the early sting of tears behind her eyes. He dropped her to the ground and lifted her with one arm under her legs and one under her back like she was a small child. Edison came out as they passed by the door,
“No sign of the sister, Silas. I don’t think she’s actually here.”
“I bet she’s close,” Col. Montone barked. “Send a man to check the stables and the barns.”
“Private! Check the stables and the barns for the sister. And quickly, we need to get a move on!” Edison shouted, jogging to the men. Col. Montone took her to a large yellow horse and put her haphazardly on the ground again.
“Captain Merllel, keep an eye on her. Do not touch her, or there will be consequences,” Col. Montone ordered as he stalked back up to the house with Edison. Charlotte barely heard what anyone was saying, but she glanced over to the ruffian the colonel had been referring to. He must not have been much older than the colonel, but he was in terrible shape with dark circles under his eyes and a scraggly beard that strung from his face.
“Will do, Colonel,” he growled, taking a drink from his flask and looking her over. By now her hair had fallen out of its style, hanging partly down around her. She stood up quickly and stayed right next to the horse as if it would provide any protection from the man. Charlotte considered getting on the horse and riding, but everyone had their firearms ready. Off to the side was a wagon filled with all of her family’s most valuable things. It was hard to look at, but Captain Merllel was even harder to look at, so she stared at the ground in front of her.
“So you’re Charlotte Brixon,” he sneered, wiping his nose with his sleeve. Charlotte didn’t respond or make any motion that would acknowledge his presence. He repeated himself, but she held absolutely still. A few of the other men that were on the ground were shifting from foot to foot, watching. They were obviously of lesser rank.
Charlotte turned to face the door of the house, away from Captain Merllel. Suddenly his hand gripped her arm and flung her around and another cinched around her neck, lifting her on her tiptoes. As her windpipe was closed, all she could see was the disgusting man in front of her, and continuously less and less of him as she squirmed for air. Dots started appearing in her vision. It felt like the more she tried to put effort into uselessly kicking at him, the more air she needed desperately. Her movement nearly stopped as he tightened his grip.
“I’m talking to you, girl. I thought you were a lady. Ladies have manners…” He swung his other hand back to strike her right as a deafening crack exploded. Landing on the gravel again, she slumped over and sat coughing for what felt like a long time, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. She was practically right under the unmoving horse, so she crawled out and away from the man, looking for where the shot had come from.
“What did I say as I left?” Col. Montone’s harsh voice came from the porch. Charlotte shuttered when she saw the look on his face. He emanated the essence of utmost annoyance and irritation, bordering more on venomous animosity rather than plain anger. She could only hold her breath as he quickly approached. He came up to the horse and nonchalantly reloaded his pistol, expecting an answer from the captain.
“You told me to stay away,” Merllel hissed, holding his bleeding hand to his stomach.
“Just to stay away?” Col. Montone laughed sarcastically, petting his horse. “Oh, no no no.” He stepped over Charlotte to stand right in front of the captain. “I had said, ‘do not touch her or there will be consequences.’ You will not touch my prisoner unless I say so.” Col. Montone aimed the pistol at the man’s knee and pulled the trigger, collapsing him against his own, lesser steed. Edison came back along with the very young private. The colonel smirked.
“Cross me one more time, Merllel, and I won’t be so generous.You’re going to wish I had killed you. Now get on your horses! We’re leaving,” he announced to the rest, stepping over Charlotte again to mount his horse. Charlotte stood, considering trying to run for the house. They wouldn’t know their way around, especially if she slipped into one of the passages.
“You can do anything once.” Col. Montone moved the horse closer to her. She turned and just looked at him. He leaned forward a bit in the saddle, waiting.
“Come.” He held his hand down to her.
“I’m riding with you?” she murmured.
“Either me or Merllel. Come. I’d like to make it before dark if that’s still possible.” He shook his gloved hand at her, motioning for her to hurry.
“I’m going to sit behind you,” she demanded.
“Ha, not a chance.” He seemed to actually find amusement in the suggestion. Charlotte saw her own hand tremble as she reached out to take his. She was depleted of confidence and it showed. Col. Montone didn’t seem to notice as he took her hand and directed her to put her foot on his to step up. The men were starting to head down the carriage drive already.
Charlotte had never even embraced a man let alone sat on one’s lap, on a horse. She sat sidesaddle, facing the left side with his arm across her lap to hold the reins and keep her from jumping down. Mostly expecting him to keep her close, she was able to sit, or at least lean, as far away as possible. It was strange riding a horse and not commanding it, so her balance wasn’t perfect as they started after the men at a moderate pace. She seemed to be the only one who felt awkward and clumsy in the situation. No doubt he was used to this sort of transport.
She took one last look back at the house and Gerick was standing listlessly in the doorway with Beatrice. Why weren’t they doing anything? After one second of thinking about it, there really wasn’t anything they could do. If they took the rifles from Father’s gun cabinet, the soldiers would most likely outshoot and kill them. And there wasn’t anyone near enough to run to for help.
As they started onto the road behind the cart and the orange sun in their eyes, Edison had lagged behind a little to talk.
“I know you wished we could have found the sister. Please excuse me, Miss Brixon,” he nodded to her.
“Yes, well, one will do,” Col. Montone replied indifferently.
“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked. The colonel had his nose in the air, looking at her from the corner of his eye even though they were only about a foot apart. Edison glanced at her before darting his eyes questioningly at Col. Montone. If she hadn’t been mistaken, she might have sensed something melancholy or disappointed about Edison’s demeanor.
But Col. Montone just breathed through his nose in sort of a silent joke between himself and Edison, not looking at her. She looked over at Edison who just tucked in his bottom lip and rode ahead to put a stop to the younger soldier's horseplay that had just begun.
All was quiet between them for at least an hour, with her still leaning uncomfortably away from him. There was a significant amount of chatter towards the front of the group, with Captain Merllel constantly stirring up arguments among the other soldiers. Edison remained the peacekeeper, putting out every fire relentlessly.
No one looked back at her and the colonel.
The sun had just disappeared behind the small mountain in front of them and the air was getting crisp as they headed down a wooded road she didn’t recognize. Even when they were still on the main road, she wondered how and why they never came across Archibald and Blake. They were always on time, and they would always be where they said they would be. She wondered if Col. Montone had anything to do with it.
With the air becoming cooler and cooler, she had to sit at least upright to put her arms around herself. And the muscles needed to actually lean away were getting tired. There was still a good amount of space between them, even though her elbow would sometimes graze him.
“How much farther are we going to be traveling?” she quietly asked. Her faint words managed to catch the attention of one of the young men, or older boy by the look of him, out in front. He turned to see her but was met with a sharp exclamation from the colonel.
“Private, you turn around again and I’ll shoot you!”
The captain got a good chuckle from that as he adjusted himself in his saddle and took another swig of his flask.
“Sorry,” the boy called, facing forward.
“We have another four hours or so,” Col. Montone replied in a voice just above a whisper. The trees around them absorbed a lot of the sound.
Charlotte couldn’t hold back her shoulders slumping forward disheartenedly. She took a deep breath and did an unladylike act of rubbing her eyes.
“I would like to walk for a bit.”
“I’m sure you would.”
“Why would I run away right now? We have been traveling for a long time on an unfamiliar road, and it’s about to get dark. I just want to walk next to the horse… And it will warm me up. I’m freezing.” She wouldn’t have spoken to anyone in that kind of manner, but she now felt just calloused enough to say whatever she wanted, especially with these louts.
He considered it for a moment, moving his jaw forward as he thought.
“Fine. I can’t afford to shoot you, but I will be able to run you down, being the one on a horse.” He removed his arm from her lap, which had actually done a little to keep her warm, and stopped the horse to let her down. Once she was on the ground, she stretched as she walked and kept her hand on the horse’s neck to prove she wouldn’t stray off. It was a very beautiful horse with kind eyes and an extraordinary bridle. It smelled her hand as they walked and resumed his normal attitude, bouncing his head with each step.
The pace was just fine for her to keep up. Charlotte was rather surprised they weren’t going faster, but if they had three or more hours to go, it was reasonable.
A few more minutes passed and the soldier driving the cart began to light a few lanterns, providing light for them in the back and the rest in front. Her small slipper shoes held up as best as they could, but they were not well suited for the damp ground they entered. Her feet were cold and wet within a few minutes, but she preferred walking, of which she planned to do for the rest of the way.