Highwaymen
Nothing could shock me more than being accosted by highwaymen on our way home from a neighbor's house party.
My dear husband, Charles, looked as stunned as I when the first shouts of alarm broke the monotonous silence that had stretched between us. It had been a long and tiring evening spent under his sister's ever-present glare, and I had been thankful such an event had ended.
I never imagined my night was far from over.
After the initial shouts from our driver, the carriage sped up, rocking us side to side with each bump in the road. I dared hope we might outrun them, but after a few pistol shots, our carriage slowed its pace, coming to a stop. The door flung open with a violence that left me trembling.
Charles held tight to my hand, and I returned his grip. What did these demons want? Money? Jewels? They could have the entire carriage if they so desired, but I prayed they would bring us no harm. Every horror story or bit of gossip I'd ever been exposed to rushed through my mind with the speed of a falling star. I barely breathed for fear of another story being added to that growing list.
This time ours.
A pistol presented itself within inches of my nose, the moonlight glistening off the polished metal. I stared into the barrel, watching the man's finger twitching on the trigger, pulling it back. Oh, so slowly.
"Take what you want." Charles's deep voice boomed above my ear. "Leave my wife be, and you may have all that you wish."
A lusty laugh emerged from the darkness of the night. I failed to see our robber's face, for a handkerchief masked his features, but the stale odor of ale and onions hovered around him like a musty cloud.
"It's your lady wife I've come fer, yer lordship."
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