From Frenchman's Promise...
The sound of several male voices laughing uproariously did not bode well. It was Rebecca that pulled her into a more upright position and dug into the pile of petticoats and quickly restored her modesty, though not her dignity. Her hat was askew and the brim torn through and down around her neck when Rebecca pulled her to her feet. It was at this point she could see the sources of the laughter. A semicircle of horses faced the coach. The mounted men were masked and held fusils pointed at Oscar and Simon. “The highwaymen!” flashed through her mind.
“Good day to you, ladies,” said the tallest of them. He didn’t tip his hat, which was clamped down over a black hood. I hope one of you is Miss Amanda Greene?”
“I’m Amanda Greene,” she said trying to be belligerent instead of scared to death. “What do you want? We aren’t carrying any money.”
“Well now missy, we didn’t expect you to be carrying the family fortune today, but we thought your papa should be willin’ to part with some of it to get you back. We have calculated you to be worth about two hunnerd pounds.
“Davy, fetch the lady her horse.”
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