"How shall I ever thank you, monsieur?"
You shook your head, bemused. "You need not, Miss Charlotte. My virtue is its own reward."
Your interlocutor stared at you. "You're no romantic, Mr Darcy. I, on the other hand, must now go and pay homage to the god of love."
You thought about telling her that the statue she'd just saved probably had more to do with war - but you'd probably first have to explain what a Roman god was to Miss Charlotte Armitage.
Instead, you bowed, wished her a good day and headed in the direction of your curricle.
Just as you did, however, the mystery lady swept around the corner, a warm smile breaking across her face.
"Charles!" she exclaimed as he turned to look at her. "What are you doing here? I thought I'd have more of a chance meeting you today!"
"Oh, I…" Charles considered his words, but said too much anyway. "Look, Miss Charlotte, do you have time to walk up to Rosings with me? I have something I wanted to show you."
The happy expression on her face vanished as she turned to you. "Oh, I'm afraid I've already - "
"It won't take very long," Charles interrupted. "Our curricle is a runaway."
"A runaway?"
"Yes, we took it out into the country and it made a bee-line for Boxwood. I wouldn't have expected it, of course, but it's never done it before."
Miss Charlotte was nodding, following the story very closely. "Walter tells me your land borders Boxwood. That must be it. Does your carriage take long to ...?"
"That's right. And the footman had gone ahead of us with a pony and trap - but he couldn't keep up. I had to take Charlotte here first cutting through the countryside."
"And there is a... a problem?" Your answer to Charles' story was icing on the cake. Quite a tasty cake, you gave yourself, but a cake nonetheless.
The smile returned to her face. "Yes, it appears there are some vandals in the woods. It will take me a while to get home, but it's not too bad."
"Well, we should probably go," you interjected.
"All right," she nodded once. "Charles told me that this is your territory - it's not far from Boxwood. Though it's not too far from the front door. Boxwood was a good ways, right?"
It had been, but it was still possible to manage if you tried.
"Let's get going," you said, nodding at Charles.
You both mounted, and continued on your way. You were discussing how he knew Boxwood was nearby - or, if he didn't, you were hesitating anyway. You had a pretty clear impression, but...
"A secret?" she said, a mock scowl crossing her face. "I didn't think you were the jealous sort."
You glanced at her as you replied. "I'm not. Or jealous, certainly. But he's my brother's former footman, and we didn't always see eye to eye…"
"Ah. It's rather easy to see what he's hiding, in that case."
You turned to look at her again. "Yes?"
"He's hiding something about the runaway."
You shrugged. "I'm not sure. Now that you mention it."
She didn't say anything to that.
You steered the horses towards the undergrowth, through the alcove of trees, and as the trees grew thicker, you slowed the horses even further.
You felt the hair on your neck stand up as soon as you entered the wood. This was your land - but that didn't make you jump at every little sound, like the girl riding behind you.
She gasped, and leaned in to you. "Charles, there are three of them!"
You looked over your shoulder. The girl was rigid in the saddle, her eyes fixed on the squat men ahead of you. The obvious leader looked the most threatening, holding a gun in one hand. The other two held poles - presumably to prod the ladies and horses into compliance.
You wanted to laugh. It was no doubt your imagination, but for the briefest of moments, he seemed to give you a deferential nod. And he started replying to the girl's exclamation at the sight of his men, as if the gun he'd just mentioned was truly a deadly weapon.
"Charles, please! You must get them away!"
"No," he said, his voice more cold than it might have been. "We're not going to run away. It's easier than you think."
"Hey!"
It was Bob, the groom. He seemed unharmed. His face was scrunched in consternation, however, and his eyes slid sideways to his master.
You knew exactly how he felt. "That's right."
"What? You're saying that we're going to just let these scoundrels take us?" Charlotte cried out.
"We are," you said, your voice resonating off the trees. "But I'm not going to hurt you. Let me explain."
For the briefest of moments, the expression on Charlotte's face was desperate - but she knew better than to argue.
"Though we might want to hurry," you added.
That elicited a real response, and the girl turned to you.
You leaned over, so she could hear you without yelling. "The driver is one of ours. And he's bringing the carriage into the ravine. It is a brilliant hiding place, and it means that we can keep you here for a while without having to stress the horses."
Charlotte considered your words privately, taking in the earnestness of your tone. After that, she turned to you and nodded.
You raised your voice, addressing your terrified driver. "I've got them, Bob."
"Oh! Thank you, sir!"
"Not at all. Go talk to Gil. He should be able to give you another few horses pretty quickly."
"He's on his way."
You nodded. "Good. Then get out of here. We'll cover for you."
"But how?" the girl asked, then her face set. "No, I don't need to know. We'll talk about it later."
You smiled, and tapped your black stallion on the flanks. The horse ignored your signal, however.
"It's just here," you heard Charles saying. "'round this bend."
The girl had gone silent.
You gave up on the stallion, and walked with the horse. This was no way to get to see your fiancé, of course, but better this than to betray her. The treacherous turn that was your path should have taken you to a different clearing, but not in a forest full of sin...
Eventually, the trail in front of you cleared, and you saw a small gravel drive. You were greeted by the sight of a small cottage, surrounded by a clearing full of trees, all of them bare. There was no fence, of course, and the front door had clearly been ripped off in haste - in fact, the door itself was laying on top of the gravel drive.
"Is anyone here?" you asked.
A gun fired off in the woods to the right of your clearing. A moment later, one of the bandits shouted.
You sighed. Charles had been right. And, as you watched two of your bandits rush forward and take down his assailants, you felt rather proud. Perhaps the way to be a good lord was less about hunting and defending your lands - and more like taking in the quality of the people at your party.
You dismounted as a flash of red went past you into the cottage. The girl, as you suspected, was helping herself to teas and cakes, although stealing wasn't the right word, now that you considered it. The way she poked around in the cupboard, she clearly expected the cupboards to just be full of cupcakes.
You went to the front door, and opened it. "Jump in. I'll have to keep the door open."
She did, and you closed the door behind her.
There was no sign of your horse, which had been led further into a clearing. That might have been further away, however. In fact, the rider you'd initially thought was the driver was walking towards you, his face twisted in unhappiness.
He didn't seem to pay the girl a great deal of attention, however, since when you turned around to talk to him, he was still focused on you.
"I can't believe you're taking in scoundrels like these! You've nearly ruined my master's reputation!"
You sighed. If Charles was going to be this difficult, you'd have to deny him the chance to behave the way you'd wanted him to behave to your intended. Another set of footsteps interrupted your thoughts.
"We're just a day away from you, Charles! Are you ok?"
"I am... surprisingly so, John. I do wish that it weren't necessary, but..."
"It's not."
Charles seemed taken aback. You were unsure if he'd expected his reaction to be that his acquaintance was angry with him.
But John Gardner just sighed. "It's not. I've brought my master's horse, and we can get you back to his estate. I'll speak to your father before we leave."
"You can't. You don't know what he's like," Charles said. "Oh, John! I'm so sorry that I got you involved. I should have left you at home."
"But you didn't," John said, now glaring in your direction.
You sighed. You had no intention of contesting, now that Charles had seen fit to bring his man here.
"I won't hide," you said. "These men don't deserve it."
"That's what you think," he said. "These men have ruined your robes and trampled over your lands. You're lucky they didn't kill you."
The horses were quiet. Unlike the men, or the girl, the beasts did not seem inclined to argue.
But you had no intention of ignoring the man's words. "We had a good enough time, here," you said. "Yes, there was thieving and some trampling. But the guest I stole away was quite willing to comply. And the lands do look fine to me."
"Don't you dare," John said, his face contorted in anger. You could see that he was making a conscious effort to keep his voice down, even at such a distance away. "This is the Royal Forest. You can't come here and treat us as if we were... savages."
"I'm not treating you as savages."
"I'm sure you're not," he said. "But tell me what makes you any different."
They claimed to be a member of the Royal, and with that, you were supposed to feel honoured - perhaps even obligated to help. But it wasn't an obligation that you wanted, and you didn't feel like he and the others deserved anything.
It felt like more of a relief, now that you were no longer a lord in shining armour. It felt like... honesty in the way it was intended to be. But this wasn't a good example, and you hoped the girl hadn't heard any of this.
"We go to the same parties as you sometimes," you said, with a slight smile. "You shouldn't count it as a judgement on your standing."
"What do you plan on doing with these bandits?" he asked. His face almost looked dangerous. "Do you think your father will give them clemency?"
You hadn't thought about it. You hadn't considered the possibility that your father would actually come here.
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