Elizabeth had wanted to stay and help Charlotte but Gerick had been adamant about her leaving through the back with her favorite horse, Hilga. If the situation was bad enough for her to leave, there was definitely cause for Charlotte to go with her, but Gerick convinced her to go first and he would send Charlotte after her.
After she had sufficiently hidden herself in the brush, she waited. And waited. Infuriated, she crept out on her horse onto the edge of the field to see that not only was Charlotte not coming, she was climbing onto some man’s horse! He looked imposing even from the distance she was at. This was not good.
A list of all of the capable men she knew came to mind, which consisted of really no one with the exception of one of her father’s friends about a day’s ride away. That was not going to suffice. Elizabeth had to make a split decision, either go looking for what’s-his-name and his cousin… Archibald and Blake. Or go after the soldiers herself, trailing way behind. It seemed like a smart idea to follow at least as far as she could to see where they were headed. An escape for Charlotte would be a lot easier if Elizabeth could be there to help.
She started off behind them, making sure to always stay off the road. It seemed like they would never stop. Elizabeth assumed that they were going to one of the British camps in the area, but there was more than one and she couldn’t just go around asking for Charlotte Brixon.
Everything was fine right until the sun went down. As her and Hilga were ever so slowly making their way through a thick grove, Elizabeth realized that with no light, there would be no way for her to follow without being super close to them. She either had to accept it and try to slink in the shadows as quietly as possible or go home and start writing letters, which didn’t feel quite right. There was little choice in the matter. She would have to turn back. Maybe she could start on their trail tomorrow with more energy.
As the evening birds started to quiet down for the night, everything was becoming one shade of dark blue. She had never been afraid of the dark in the woods, but she also hadn’t been alone, looking for her kidnapped sister. Hilga waited patiently for an answer, raising her head at the sound of dogs off in the distance.
All of a sudden, the courage had left Elizabeth and it took everything in her power to stay calm. Their house was looted, she was out alone, Mother and Father were gone, and Charlotte was taken. If there was any way for today to get worse, she would not be surprised.
~
Charlotte’s neck was starting to bruise. Her whole throat had felt like it had got smashed in a vice, and it was just now starting to feel like it. The adrenaline from a few hours ago had worn off. Plodding along next to the horse, she wondered if he felt as exhausted as she did.
Apparently clouds had gathered since it had gotten dark, and it had begun to rain lightly, giving her the appearance of a wet puppy. She knew this because the few times Col. Montone had asked her if she was done yet with her little march, she detected an air of pity, which was strange. He was a strange man.
If he really didn’t like her as much as he tried to portray, he wouldn’t have asked her if she wanted to ride. He didn’t say it as nicely as that, but that was what he had been asking. Nothing else had been said about her fate. Charlotte decided she would start asking about it in the morning. It had to be something where she couldn’t get hurt too badly. Maybe she was going to work as a servant somewhere.
Anything like that would be easily gotten out of. Her parents knew everyone there was to know, and their friends would be on the lookout for her. Still, it seemed like if it made his cousin, Lieutenant Edison Gram uneasy, it must not be good.
Shivering and stumbling for the past three-quarters of an hour, Charlotte felt her foot snag on a branch and she fell all the way to the ground without a sound. It was like her light body seemed to just get absorbed into the soggy leaves and branches, welcoming her to her new bed.
Soaked to the bone and angry and tired and hopeless, Charlotte slapped away the wet shrubbery and slimy branches that surrounded her. Now she was twice as wet as before and she was in the company of a bunch of heartless, menacing idiots from hell, which was where it felt like she was. Cold hell.
“Are you going to stay there all night, or are you going to get up?”
She heard the colonel’s snide voice coming back for her. The light of the lanterns were beginning to fade as the rest of the party continued on. She became blinded with tears as lightning started thundering in the distance. Charlotte somehow stood herself up, fully crying into her hands, leaning against the horse’s hind leg.
At first feeling Col. Montone’s hand on her shoulder, she jerked away, nearly falling to the ground again in a terrible swirl of tears, water, and depression, but he had already had enough of a grip to carefully swing her back toward the horse as she regained her footing. Silently, he helped her up in front of him again and they easily caught up to the back of the wagon.
Shivering more than she could bear, Charlotte tried to think of delightful warm drinks in front of a fire. Having felt like she had sufficiently cried enough for one night, she just sat in front of Col. Montone, chattering and trying to think of something that would make it better. Since there wasn’t going to be any mercy from him.
“It’s going to take longer than expected!” Edison called to the group as they stopped. He was way out front, down on the ground inspecting a tree that had fallen across the path. There was a frustrated groan from the soldiers as they began backtracking. The trail was wide enough that the cart could just barely make it around, and they filed through so they were in the same placement as before.
As they started back a breeze picked up and created much more unrest among everyone. She saw the other soldiers were quick to take out blankets and cloaks out of their saddlebags. Totally and completely jealous, Charlotte wrung another handful of water out of her hair.
“To keep from freezing to death,” Colonel Montone twisted back to take out his own cloak. Her heart felt like it sunk just a little lower as she realized she was going to be riding the rest of the way twice as wet and cold without one, but he draped the heavy garment over her shoulders first, only taking the smaller portion of it so they were both covered.
Charlotte involuntarily leaned against him right away to be warmer. The thick, waterproof cloak did a good job keeping the wind and water off immediately, but it would only be warm if she was warm.
Col. Montone unexpectedly brought her to him a little more and shifted the hood so it was shielding her face from the weather. Normally, Charlotte would have been reluctant, but right now she was grateful for the instant warmth. His uniform smelled like gunpowder, horses, and old wood like it was frequently placed in an old trunk. There wasn’t any awkwardness that she assumed would have been. Probably because she was so distraught and tired. She felt his warmth seeping over to her, putting an end to her violent shivering.
Multiple times the lanterns would go out, so only one or two were able to be kept light at a time. With the easy saunter of the horse Charlotte felt herself drifting off to sleep now and then. She would jerk her head up a little to keep from leaning her head on his shoulder, but as the trail continued on and on, she couldn’t help it. And he didn’t seem to object. So even though he was a brute of a monster and a terrible person, he was warm and he kept his hands to himself, only securing his arms around her so she wouldn’t fall off. If the circumstances were different…
“You made it! We were wondering if you would,” A booming voice sounded.
Charlotte sucked in a waking deep breath and flinched awake. A huge man went up to Edison who stood next to his horse at the front of the group. She found herself snuggled next to the colonel and she abruptly sat up, away from him. It looked like they had made it to camp. It was moderately lit with the majority of the tents set up in a large meadow, the trees skirted on both sides. Very few soldiers were walking around the city of tents at this time.
“You will be staying the night in my tent,” Col. Montone mentioned casually, stifling a yawn and twisting in the saddle to stretch a bit.
“Your tent?!” Charlotte exclaimed. Her grogginess now completely evaporated.
“I said my tent. Not my cot… I guess that latter is just as available if you were inclined.”
Charlotte’s mouth dropped open in shock. She shoved his shoulder as hard as she could,
which did nothing but somehow bring a smile to his disgustingly handsome face.
“My goodness, no! Absolutely not! Who do you think I am?” she demanded.
“Bernard, will you assist the prisoner to the ground?” Col. Montone asked the burly man coming over.
“Prisoner?” The man’s small, tired eyes looked at her and quickly back to the colonel.
“Yes, prisoner,” Col. Montone snapped.
“Oh, uh… It’s muddy, though, Colonel, quite like a swamp the whole of this side of camp.”
“And?”
“Oh, okay.” Bernard held his massive hands to her waist and helped her down. With the cloak around her shoulders and her hair completely down and wet, she was rather embarrassed about her appearance even if it was only these ruffians she was around.
“Where’s John?” Col. Monone curtly asked.
“On his way, there’s the lad,” Bernard pointed to a boy about sixteen or seventeen with curly auburn hair splashing through the mud, hurrying over.
“John, take Apollo and get him fed and watered. I’ll be at the tent in ten minutes. And make sure she gets there and stays there! I will not have her being seen by the whole British Army.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy replied, taking the reins, not yet seeing her. Charlotte glanced over at Bernard who was thinking to himself.
“It really is a swamp. Would you mind terribly if I just scooped ya up and carried you to the tent, miss?”
“I would appreciate it,” she happily replied, looking at her feet already caked with mud.
“Here we go,” he said, picking her up. He smelled a bit more like ale and musty furniture, but he was nice. She had her arm around the top of his shoulders as he started tromping through the slippery mud.
“Didn’t expect Silas to be bringing a beauty back with ‘em. Not usually in that one’s nature. No sir, not that one.”
“I was kidnapped,” Charlotte flatly stated. This stopped the big man in his tracks and he looked at her.
“Kidnapped…” He grew very serious, drawing his face together.
“Yes, why is that surprising? I’ve heard of it happening before among the officers and young women.”
“Well, yes… Among other officers… yes. But that isn’t like him.” Bernard went on walking. “I know he can be a nasty viper, but that’s what makes him a great leader. In the end, he treats his men good. With respect, and we owe him our respect a hundred times over, I tell you. The places he’s gotten us out of, why, if we’re facing more than double our force, he’ll put the fire of hell in us and we’ll fight to the death, we will. He doesn’t have much to do with the womenfolk, even though he’s got the face for it. Just haven’t got an interest for ‘em, I guess. Nor other men neither. He’s a busy one with military matters and his career. No, not much time for the womenfolk.”
“Why would he want me? He’s been acting like I’m not staying here for long.”
“Hmm. Now that is a mystery. Lieutenant! Didn’t see ya there. Now why should Silas be needing this woman?” Bernard asked simply. Edison had been walking slightly behind them, off to the side. When asked, he pushed his lips together and grumbled to himself.
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry but it’s none of your business, Bernard. I’ve had enough of his burden for tonight.” Edison took a few more strides and turned right down one of the miniature lanes of tents.
“That’s odd,” Bernard breathed. “Now when the lightest spirit of the party has been extinguished to such an extent, something is going on that our eyes fail to see… Come to think of it, I probably wasn’t supposed to be around when you came back… But then he had taken a few men with him on the trip today… Hmmm, too much figuring for me tonight. What be your name, miss?”
“Charlotte Brixon.” It probably wouldn’t hurt to get her name around.
“Heaven above! Miss Brixon, I am sorry for you. It can’t be because of your family’s reputation, because there are far more with more obvious rebel connections. I just can’t figure it. You say they didn’t find your sister? You only have one other don’t you?”
“Only one,” she quietly confirmed.
“Well, here we are,” he sighed, setting her down in front of one of the larger tents in the area. It was in a nicer, dryer place on slightly higher ground with much more privacy around it, partly under an enormous tree. “John, right over there, is the boy’s name. He’s a nice one. I wouldn’t worry too much. But for you, Miss Brixon, I’ll think about this for the rest of the night. There has to be something better than what we think at present. Good luck to ye and goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Bernard. Thank you.” She wrapped the cloak around herself tighter. The big man smiled shyly and disappeared within the mass of canvas all around. John was on the other side of the tree, brushing the horse in the dry area next to the trunk. He only peeked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Charlotte walked over and put a gentle hand on the horse’s nose.
“I heard your name was John?” she asked, glancing over. The boy was quick to look at her with raised brows. He had a steady gaze that was willing and genuine.
“Aye, ma’am,” he nodded, going back to brushing the horse’s back.
“My name is Charlotte.”
“I guessed as much,” he replied in a thick Irish accent, without arrogance or mocking.
“Did you know I was going to be here tonight?”
“Well, Miss Charlotte, I don’t know if it’s my place to say anything like that.”
“Oh.” This was beginning to seem much more like a planned scheme rather than
something decided right in the moment.
“Would you like to brush too? I mean not to insult you, miss, by asking,” he backtracked.
“I would love to, thank you.” She accepted his horse brush as he went to a bucket to fetch another.
“Do you know what’s going to happen to me?”
John looked at the ground as he resumed his place to brush the horse. “That’s not for me to say. I’m sorry.”
“Is it as bad as I’m anticipating?” Maybe if she kept at the questions he would break.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be your first choice,” his voice fell.
“What do you mean? Am I going to stay here forever? Is he going to send me away somewhere?”
Footsteps lightly splashed behind her and John resumed his task. Charlotte turned to find Col. Montone walking up. He revealed a fresh carrot for the horse, looking as awake as one would at the start of a day.
“Come with me, Charlotte. John, has there been any new messages?” he asked, removing his gloves.
“Yes, sir. They’re on the desk.”
The rain had eased up to a light patter and the wind had died down. The tent was divided into two rooms. The larger portion contained a cot, a few trunks and chairs, and a writing desk with a simple candelabra sitting on it. She guessed there was just a version of the same thing in the other room.
“You and John will be in here,” Col. Montone tied back the flap that acted as the wall. There were two cots on opposite sides with a table and another candelabra. She was surprised that both cots had a pillow and a blanket.
“You were expecting me.”
“I was expecting two of you,” he corrected. “John was going to stay with Edison until your departure.”
“Departure to where exactly?”
“No where you need to concern yourself with right now.” He undid a few of the top buttons of his uniform and sat at the desk with his back to her.
“I bet it’s awful,” she said blandly. “Edison can’t seem to even think about it, and John gets
nervous like I might turn to salt within the next moment.” She sat down, creating a wet puddle on one of the chairs behind him with the cloak still around her shoulders. “It must be something along the lines of hard labor… Or prostitution.”
At her words, he froze, but only for a second as he quickly recovered himself. “Why, my dear, you have guessed it. How did you know?” he asked in a sarcastic tone.
Charlotte tried not to let the truth sink in until later when she wasn’t acting. It was hard to determine if he was actually being serious or not.
“Am I to work here among the men, or elsewhere? I guess it might be rather awkward here…”
“As a matter of fact, I have a buyer lined up for tomorrow. Three o’clock at the docks. You will be sold and board the ship, Bermingham, where I assume you will start your work. I thought I’d spare you until you leave tomorrow and get a night’s rest tonight, but if you must know, that is how it is.” He broke the seals of some of the letters sitting on the desk and began reading.
“Yes, well, either way, I wouldn’t have been getting much sleep.” Charlotte sucked in her lip and tried not to cry. She was thankful his back was turned. And that Elizabeth was the one safely at home. Half of her wanted to sit and cry herself into an even bigger puddle, but it seemed like she had already been doing that all evening. And she was becoming tired of feeling sorry for herself. At this point, she didn’t have anything left to lose.
Charlotte got up from the chair and looked at his cot. It looked just the same as the other ones. She stared at it then to the colonel and then back again, finally deciding to crawl onto it since it was the closest and the warmest-looking. Laying on her stomach, she turned her head so she could see his face as she rested her head on the pillow. He finished reading a sentence and looked over at her with only his translucent eyes.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing? Get off, you're going to get it all wet.”
“What are you reading?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t tell you if you were my own mother. Now if you really are interested in sharing my cot, I would suggest you take off that mop you’re wearing. Otherwise, get off and leave me in solitude.”
“Sitting ten paces behind you won’t give you any more solitude than me being right here,” she returned.
“It will give me just enough, now off.”
John came in and put the bucket in the corner. “Apollo is fed and watered, sir. Any words
for me?” He brought the second chair on the other side of the colonel and respectfully sat down. Col. Montone showed him the letter he was holding.
“Equilibrium… circumvented… uncharacteristically,” John read clearly. Charlotte sat up.
“If you need help learning to read, John, I can teach you.”
John shot his eyes over to her and then to the colonel before answering. Col. Montone turned his head to him as if giving him a warning look.
“That won’t be necessary, thank you,” John mumbled.
“It wouldn’t take long, especially if you are already reading words like those.”
Awkward tension filled the room as no one answered her offer. Was she missing something? The colonel again showed another document to John about a minute later.
“Simultaneously.”
Then an idea struck her. Maybe it was Col. Montone who couldn’t read the words.
“If you need help learning to read, Colonel, I can teach you,” she repeated the offer with as little sarcasm as possible. It was definitely a delicate subject for anyone, assuming they were illiterate.
“Don’t you have a future career of ungodly prostitution to occupy your mind?” he snapped.
“Ohhh, my! I hit upon a much larger wound than I anticipated, meanly throwing salt on it unknowingly. Well, Col. Montone, having given me my life sentence, you have taken every ounce of caution I may have had and thrown it away like an empty bottle.” She waved her arm, spinning around in the tent, facing her own side. “I have as much hope left for a life as I bet a fox does when the hounds are breathing down its neck.”
“You are comparing yourself to a fox?”
When she looked back, he was facing her, withholding some sort of emotion from his face.
“If you are the bloodthirsty hound that needs more than one to get the job done, yes. I am the fox.”
John sat nervously in anticipation, shifting around with big eyes, watching back and forth.
“You know how to read?” Col. Montone asked.
“Now don’t be childish with me, Colonel. The question is, why don’t you know how to read?”
“As a matter of fact, I can read. It is just too much to decipher the longer words in the time that I need them. But I can read.”
“Surely,” Charlotte retorted. “I don’t suppose there is anything dry I can change into for the night, is there?”
“No.”
Silence reigned for a few minutes as Charlotte sat down on her own cot, at least glad he hadn’t said anything yet about returning the warm cloak.
“Sir?” John whispered.
“Hm.”
“I have a few extra clothes that she could use for the night. Wouldn’t hurt anything.”
“It would give the impression that she is more a guest than a prisoner. Don’t acknowledge her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That will be all for tonight. You may go to bed if you wish.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Charlotte climbed under the coarse blanket with the cloak still around her, quietly watching John read a small portion of a Bible and then extinguish their candelabra. Just the act of laying down seemed to send her straight to sleep even if she was still cold and wet.
“Miss Charlotte… Miss Charlotte, lass, it’s time to wake up.” John’s voice felt like it came only seconds after she fell asleep, but she opened her eyes to a brighter tent. It must have been a cloudy day since the sun wasn’t casting a golden glow.
“There is coffee next to Bernard’s fire if you’d like to come with me. Colonel says you to be
up and ready in about an hour, but I thought you’d like to wake up a bit,” John offered. Charlotte sat up and roughly brushed her fingers through her damp hair.
“Thank you, John. I think I will.” She put on her dirtied slipper shoes and tried to make her chilly wet dress look better.
“Your neck, Miss Charlotte… Was that Colonel’s doing?” John’s eyebrows lowered and his sweet expression hardened. It seemed like everyone’s opinion of Col. Montone was rather different than she anticipated.
“Oh, no. This happened while he wasn’t present, by another soldier… The colonel was actually quite upset about the happening when he returned.” As she spoke about the incident, she realized that he definitely had been riled up about it.
“I should say he should be, miss. It looks awful.” He opened a drawer in the desk and gave her a small square of mirror.
“Ah, it actually doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks,” she said, examining herself. The largest part of the bruise was on the left side, turning very dark. But it only hurt when she would try to touch it. Otherwise it didn’t bother her too much.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, Miss Charlotte, but I feel like this is very wrong, what’s happening. I usually don’t talk to girls, because I get so nervous, but I feel I can speak well with you,” he mentioned, returning the mirror. His voice lowered to a whisper and his eyes went to the entrance. “Col. Montone just needs money- a large sum of how much, I’m not sure. That’s all this is for. And I believe that if he is given it, he won’t send you away to England with that terrible man.”
“He just needs money?” she asked, thinking. A spark of hope ignited. He nodded.
“That’s why he was looking for your sister too. With only you, there is still another half of this… personal fee that he needs, and he’s running out of time quickly. Seven or eight days is when he needs the full sum, I believe. You were just an idea for fast money, but if you convinced him that you can get him that amount, he might return you. Or let you stay, at least.”
“Thank you very much, John. Do you know where he is right now so I could talk to him?” The urgency she felt was extreme.
“Having a meeting with other officers now. I wouldn’t interrupt that, but he will walk by the fire when it’s over. Let’s go get some coffee while we wait.” He went to the entrance and pulled back the flap for her to go first.