Reginal S. Killingsworth

Oh, Sterling....do you not wish to join in the merriment? I am certain that your dull witt and sharp tongue would be a great asset to the amusement...we've seen you in good sport in year's past. therefore, we are sure that with a little help of the 'green fairy' from Maddogge's private stock...you will in rare form.

Splendid, my sweet dear flower. As I see by the good Captain's list, Nick and Finn be there; as I will be happy to help out.

Blurry-eyed and still drowsy from his dream state, Reggie slowly stirred from his disturbing dream. Started to find a bisketed faced man staring back at him through silver rimmed spectacles, he jerked back into the leather Chair. “Where the blazes am I? And who the hell are you?” Reggie asked still disoriented from the night’s excitement. The old man narrowed his eyes and looked back at this stranger.

(still in dream state...Killingsworth lingers between dream and memory).... Lady St. Claire waited impatiently in the dressing rooms of Reginald Killingworth's private apartments at university, summoned there by him, then left alone. With a bobbed curtsy, the maidservant told her that Master Killingsworth was preparing to leave for York but would be with her presently. In the next room, just beyond the closed heavily carved doors, she could hear Killingsworth along with several of the Head Master's staff whispering then raising their voices in disapproval. With a sigh, she realized that her new shoes were too tight, her feet hurt and she was angry that Reggie would dare to keep her waiting like this. Oh, there was a time, not so long ago, when he would seek her counsel, ask of her the deepest of confidences, for they were partners in all things. Now, apparently, she was to consider it a great fortune to be summoned like a servant! After more than half an house, the heave carved-oak doors were pulled open, the conversation faded as Killingsworth strode through, hands linked behind his back. Lady St. Claire was reminded in that instant, as the sun gleamed through the wall of windows, the bright light hitting his face, what a fine man he became. He radiated confidence, sensuality oozed from him. A man of his upbringing and power could make a mark on the world. She stood regally, every bit the noblewoman, in a dress of deep claret brocade, as the doors were closed by the maidservant and Killingsworth approached her, his heals echoed across the parquet flooring. Yes, she knew something was wrong and mostly likely it was about a girl – another pathetic serving wench, of all things – and that he had brought her to his apartments here at University, as she was sure that he had done with Jenny, the dairy maid, back at the manor house. Reggie held both of her arms above the elbow in a play of sincerity, then kissed her cheek. "It is good to see you again, dear cousin, "he said, the strain between them now a palpable thing. "Is it?" "Of course, it is. But I shall come straight to the point." "Please do." "I am leaving for York within the hour –" "Yes, so I've heard." "While I am gone, I wish you to organize and assist in the evacuation of my apartments here at University." For the first time in many years, something of the real Lady St. Claire bled through. "You're leaving? But the semester is not over with and your father will most likely be.." "Please do not make this any more difficult than it is." Her eyes narrowed. "Do you honestly believe that I would make this moment easy for you, Reggie? That after all these years of higher education and grooming yourself to take over your father's estate, I would simply let you pack up and walk away from your glorious future? Good Lord Reggie, tell me, please, this is not about some lowly maidservant. He eyes were angry now, his exp​ression closed to her. "Stop it, Sarah. "Stop what?" Reminding you of your silly little exploits, of how your bad choices in women have brought shame to your family name. Did you not think I knew?! She put her hands on his face to make him look at her. "…and what of her, Reggie? Now that you have your new jade to chase and woo…what will become of her after you become bored with this one? Will you toss her out like some used-up old tavern whore?" "Your mouth is as foul and tiresome as....!" "Now there is a great irony! You will open your bedchamber door to the lowest of women, and you are telling me what is foul?!" Reggie slapped her hard across the face –harder, she saw by his exp​ression, than he had meant to. Her hand went up to strike him in return, but he caught her by the wrist until she jerked her hand free. "So it has come to this?" He whispered to her. "I ask you for your help...Please help me." "Are the rumors true, Reggie? Did you kill her?" "I must leave, Sarah. Know only this. It was not me."

The warmth of the fire and a bottle of Madeira caused Reggie to fall into a drunken induced slumber remembering the things of his past… The oversize coach, with its black lacquered paint, gilding, rich velvet cushions, and six black horses pulling it, swayed along the paving towards Newmarket. Reggie and Sabastian Seymour arrived at this charming village of thatched cottages and clean streets, nestled amid the lush heath land of Suffolkshire, at half past six in the evening. Outside, it was still as light as day. Reggie stepped from the coach amid a porte cochere ringed by neatly trimmed emerald hedgerows and held out his perfumed hand to assist Sabastian from the coach. “We are at Newmarket!” He proclaimed. “Let us away to some revelry at last!” “This is yoursss?” asked Sebastian standing awestruck before the vast brick estate nestled into greening woods. “My family’s actually. But they do take pity on their dissoluted son in springtime and allow me the use of it.” Reggie pointed the way with his silver walking stick and presented Sebastian to the staff that stood in the starched straight line on the outside stone stairway. “Tis very grand, indeed,” smiled Sebastian as he looked up at the entrance hall, with its gleaming black marble floors, soaring ceilings and portraits lining the walls in heavy gilded frames. “Yes, designed to impress, like everything about the Killingsworth family.” “Well, I am rightly impressed, Killingsworth!” “Good,” Reggie smiled. “Now, do you wish the staff to show you to your rooms before the banquet this evening? “Yes, of course.” Then Sebastian paused for a moment at the top of the stairs. “Will your beautiful cousin Lady St. Claire and Mrs. McKinney be attending the banquet as well?” “Indeed! And as rumors abound, there is even talk about Moll Davis attending as well.” Sebastian’s eyes widened. “I do believe it is going to be a grand springtime here in Newmarket!” The rolling green Newmarket Heath had been transformed into an exotic sheik’s harem. Lights twinkled over a canopy of red silk like stars in a summer night sky. Servants, dressed as slaves, strolled up and down bearing silver trays filled with figs and nuts and jeweled goblets of wine. The royal musicians played just beyond. Inside, the tent was lit up brightly with candles. There were two other men standing with Lady St. Claire and Sebastian. They were all standing in front of tent’s arched opening with the view of the rolling green lawns behind filled with fireflies dancing about, all of them holding full glasses of wine. “...certainly you cannot mean that,” one said. “It’ll be so frightfully dull.” “I mean it, entirely. You are both to b6e on your absolute best behavior,” Lady St. Claire warned. “Give me at least a chance to appear redeeming.” “Appear, if not quite become, I hope?” Sebastian quipped. Lady St. Claire looked up, seeing Lilly McKinney then. She smiled and held out her hand to him. “Ah, Lilly. Do join us. Gentleman, this beautiful lady is the famous Lilly McKinney, about whom you have heard so much in London. Mrs. McKinney, this is Master Sebastian Seymour, Esq.” “It is an honor to meet such a fair prize as you, Mrs. McKinney.” Sebastian took her hand and kiss it. “Right charmed I am to make your acquaintance, Master Seymour.” She said smiling in return. From the corner of her eye, Lilly spotted the royal person and it was then Killingsworth moved forward. “Are you enjoying the evening’s entertainment given by our most gracious king?” Lilly bit back a smile. “Oh? Is his Majesty here?” She replied with a coy smile. Reggie looked upon her soft porcelain features. “He is. And it is his custom to host many such banquets as often as twice a fortnight when he is in town.” Lady St. Claire drained her goblet in single sip then stood next to her cousin, Reggie. “As you see Mrs. McKinney our family is very well connected, you could say. My Uncle; Reggie’s father, was a great favorite at court when His Majesty was a boy, and fortunately for us, this king is given in to strong bouts of nostalgia.” “Is that so?” She said grabbing a fig from a near by silver platter. “His Majesty seemed quite different when I met him.” “Royal persona.” Killingsworth said, passing another full goblet of wine to Sebastian. “Important things like war and asking Parliament for more money. Both full-time occupations, the way I hear it.” Killingsworth said blithely. “Once you come to know him here at Newmarket though, he is a very different sort altogether. You will see he is really quite tolerable human, full of all the same warts as the rest of us!’ “Speaking of warts, is he likely to bring Mrs. Davis?” Asked Sebastian as he mumbled over the rim of his goblet. Killingsworth laughed. “I rather doubt it. The king is not known for his consistency with the fair sex. Especially not here in Newmarket, where there is an abundance of beauty and options.” And with that Killingsworth nodded his head to the ladies before him.

The Professor now stroked his snow white beard and looked puzzled. He now had another stranger invading his home. The professor was more than put off by the very appearance of this man who now sat quietly staring into fireplace flames. The professor stood at the door jam, looking into the dimly lit room. It was apparent that the stranger looked more like a monster than a man. He had taken to sitting in the professors favorite chair, but did not utter one word to his most gracious host or to the servant. The light from the fireplace danced across the man's face, half hidden by the brim of his large beaver hat. The Professor raised his head slightly, eyes darting back and forth from stranger and servant, then he waved the servant boy away. He had to admit, curiosity got the best of him. The Professor inched his way into the parlor. Not a word came from the chair by the fireplace. It was then the sound of snoring caught his attention. As the Professor peered over the side of the chair, he noticed that his monstrous guest was fast asleep.

The dream was soon broken by the sudden sound of footfall behind him. Are you all right, Sir? A soft, shaken voice with an accent made him turn quickly. There in the dark shadows was a young native boy 16, if a day, looking at back at him. Are you all right, Sir? Have you injured yourself? Suddenly Reggie remembered that he still held the cloth soaked in blood. I will call for a physick if you need, sir? From the distance across the way, Reggie then heard the demanding shout of an elderly man. It is my Master, Sir. I must go to him. He can help you, Sir. Come. Again, another shout from the other side of the street demanded a reply. Reggie took a step closer to the servant boy.

Lilly took another long swallow of her wine. Reggie sat next to her as they continued their conversation. All London thinks you a sensation, Lilly! Her eyes peeked over the rim of her fine wine glass, then she placed it down upon the table. She smiled at him, coyly. Thank you, Reggie! I am on top of the world! Yes, too bad Captain Sterling does not feel the same way. Said Reggie as he refilled her glass. Lillys face then fell. She did not expect him to mention his name tonight. Oh! not him again, Reggie. She said with a sigh. I can have my fill of any of the lords and dukes that frequent the theater to see me. I am sure they are looking to add a bit of glitter to their dull lives?! She said with a smirk. "One justs has to find themselves a well-placed man, then make him fall in love with them, that is all She only smiled in return. She again was playing the game. He knew that she would do anything to make Captain Sterling hers and hers alone. It was just that he was not as well off as the rest of those who wooed her. She longed for security and a man with wealth was the only way. Yet, in the meantime, he knew she would take lovers to suit her financial needs. My Dear Lilly, did you ever consider monogamy? I did actually, but Ive since recovered from it quite nicely, thank you!

Hot air of his very lungs rushed around him. He found it difficult to breath. It was like drawing in flame…a feeling that he would rather forget. As he made his way down a narrow alley, he finally stopped and collapsed against a wall. Reggie’s hands now dripping with blood, he knew he had to hide the evidence of his latest crime. Quickly, he found a rag stuffed between a few wooden crates and wiped them off. A knife? How foolish! He thought to himself. A knife leaves blood, and blood is a trail to be found out. He surely will be found out now. Strangulation was so nice and tidy. There is nothing left behind….except the body. He kept running down the narrow passages until he found the back entrance to his lodgings. He will be all right once inside, he thought to himself. “I managed this far…” he muttered as he looked through the little window of inn’s lower hall. There, he saw many a man and woman in jubilant conversation and dance. He could see a woman dressed in robin egg blue satin and her amble bosom peeking out the top of her lace edged bodice. All this to draw the attentions of a suitor towards her. She whispered in his ear and coyly flirted with him. She then took her fan and tapped his shoulder. Reggie remembered this game that all woman play. In a candle lit hall, all eyes were upon her. She joyfully smiled at those she passed by. “Well, if I live and breathe!” Shouted Reggie over the din of a boisterous crowd. “Its’ our very own pretty little Lilly McKinney come to grace us with her presences and charm!” It was then Lilly stopped and greeted them all with her best theatrical curtsy, and was immediately surrounded. “Did you given them what they asked for, Lilly?” “…And them some!” “I would fancy seeing such a fine lady grace the stage.” Swooned an older court lady. Lilly then turned and without missing a beat smiled. “Then you best not be coming to see me! Fancy isn’t what they pay for with Lilly McKinney before them!” A roar of laughter over took the room and Reggie approached Lilly taking her hand in greeting. “Does it ever grow tiresome, hearing that applause and laughter?” He asked her as he kissed her cheek. “Only if I grow weary of being adored!” She replied with a wink!”

Reggie raised his head from the table where it had been perched in slumber for the last few hours. There inside the tavern of the ‘Pudding and Pye’ there were low rough-hewn beams, chipped plaster walls, and mice scurrying across the cold stone floor. Earlier the crowd, most of them drunk, red-faced men in soiled shirts, from the docks laughed, coughed, and tipped their head back in great jest. It was an awful site to behold. Yet now…looking around, he noticed that the crowd had dissipated to a lowly few. The barkeep barked his few commands to the lowly serving maid. “When y’er done there…out to the kitchen wif you.” The barkeeps eyes narrowed at the pretty little dark button-eyed girl in the soiled mud-brown frock. “and don’t be think’n you can steal anything from the pantry. I’m keep’n me eye on you, girl!” The young girl threw her hand up in retaliation to the barkeeps comment. “Coxcomb!” She shouted back to him as made her way to the kitchen’s door. Muttering under his breath, the barkeep words could be heard quite clearly from where Reggie was seated. It was then the barkeep realized he was not alone in the tavern. “You dun here? We’re closing up now. Pay me and off with you.” Reggie pulled his cloak closure to his body, his hat further down to cover his face. “Yes…of course,” was the only reply that came from him. As he threw a few coins on the table, the barkeep looked at him. “You owe me a bit more than that…seeing that I took care of that ‘bundle’ of yours the other night.” Reggie’s eyes narrowed as looked back at the squat, ruddy-faced man. “I see that you are not above blackmail.” “Just trying to make my way in the world.” “…just trying to make my way in the world…” Reggie laughed to himself. “yes…of course.” It was then he withdrew his knife from his cloak.

From the other side of the room, a ill-fitted man, a shadow of what he once was, notices the stranger enter the pub with a flourish. Reginal raises an eyebrow to the new visitor once he asks for Sterling by name. "I dare sssay you've come quite far if you wish to ssseek out a man such as Ssterling." He stands from his chair and looks towards the clourfully attired man at the window table. "Regnial Killingsworth, of Warwick and North Hamptonshire." It was then Reginal glanced up and down at the Fop. "I see you favor last year's fashion. Pitty. I am sure you've been abroad far too long to be up on the lates fashions here."

In the dark little room at the top of the inn, Reggie Killingsworth tried to find comfort in sleep. He rolled over on his small bed and saw that day light had given way to darkness. He rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh, but he could not find peace. An old malevolent force haunted his every waking hour. It had never left him since he arrived in Port Royal more than six months ago. It crept in like a ghost and held fast to his soul. In the dim light of a faded fire he noticed the body of Bess lying on the floor. Had it only been a few hours since he killed her? Had anyone heard her cry? He wondered. Had anyone heard her shout ‘Murder’? His mind began to race once more. Nevertheless, the unsettling feeling still haunted him. Killing was relatively simple. It was the aftermath that he had trouble with. His hands flew up to her face as he tried to cover his eyes of what he had done. Reggie quickly lit a candle and grabbed the bible. “God, forgive me…” He whispered as he began to pray… Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris. Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum. Amen.

Bess was startled at first. She turned to see the old man beckon her and point to the window where she knew her Master was waiting. Fearing that her Master was watching her from his perch, she quickly turned to the old man." "Ney sir, my Master would have me in an inch of my life if I spoke to you...or any other stranger. I am not permitted. Good day to you, sir." And with that Bess quickly opened the door to the inn and went inside.

Things did not go well for Bess. As she stood in shock, drenched in mud from head to toe, muttering insults under her breath. Bess did not take kindly to being assulted by Mistress Elizabeth's henchmen. They lifted her effortlessly from the dressing room chair and dragged her through the backstage hallway until they reached the stage door. With one mighty swing, she went flying and ended up in the muck and filth. She took her time walking back to the inn. Being unsuccessful in obtaining the money owed to her master, she tried to think of a way out of this mess. Yet, as she glanced down at herself she knew it was going to be difficult to explain her current condition to Master Killingsworth. With a sigh she slowly made her way up the last cobblestone street to the inn. "Perhaps he will not beat me this time." She whispered to herself as she looked up at the small window on the top floor. The light was on...and she knew that he would be waiting.

It was apparent that the performance was less than tolerable to her audience. Elizabeth could feel that the last act was lacking and she blamed the weather and the poor stage direction from her newly hired stage manager. He boasted well on the stage and in bed. A mistake she would never make again. Come morning, he too would be gone along with three other actors, half the costume stock and props. She needed to make a little money quickly knowing that the lenders would soon be at her doorstep. She had been able to keep them at bay for almost three months, but she was running out of cleaver stories and well fabricated lies. As she took her last bow and walked off the stage with the rest of the actors, she snatched the goblet of wine from her maid servant’s hand and hissed her latest demand. "I want everyone to be here first thing tomorrow morning at 8 of the clock to go over our newest play. Do not think you all are going to spend a late night about the town either. I need quick minds and sharp tongues about you all!" The maid servant quickly begged her audience with her mistress. "If you please, Mistress. There is a woman awaiting your audience in your dressing room." "A woman? Come now, Ella. I have no time for this." Eilzabeth said with a smirk. The maid quickly walked with Eilzabeth on her way back to her dressing room. "But mistress, she said that she was here to discuss the business of her employer." Eilzabeth stopped in her tracks. "What's this? I no sooner do I receive a copy of his manuscript in my hands and the famous playwrite wishes to discuss business? What is he up to?" Ella shrugged her shoulders. "I know not. Though, she looked a bit eager, Mistress." Eilzabeth's eyes darted back and forth in thought. "I bet she is...as is her employer. No one has ever dared to push me into a corner...especially where my theater is concerned! We'll just have to have a word with this woman, won't we?" As she opened the door to the room she found Bess sitting at Elizabeth's dressing table. Elizabeth looked at Bess for a moment, gazing her up and down trying to figure out why she decided to appear in common work clothes. She quickly smiled and entered the dressing room closing the door behind her so that others of the acting company would not over hear her dealings with the new playmaster's servant. Bess stood quickly then made a small bow upon seeing her. "Mistress Remsfield, my master sends me to discuss matters of business with you. I hope that we will..." She quickly took off her hat and wig. "Oh, I see your master cannot wait." She said quickly untying her neckstock and slipping behind her dressing screen. "No matter, I shall be happy to discuss our business here and now, that's if you do not mind my changing into something a bit more...comfortable." Bess coughed an uncomfortable cough and turned her back towards the dressing mirror. "Oh, of course not Mistress. I come here with a letter from my master stating a business transaction that you promised to fulfill." It was then a pair of britches flew over the top of the screen and rest there along with the shirt the actress had been wearing. Once again, she cleared his throat. "As I was saying...." "Yes, yes..yes...of course. I plan to keep my part of the barging. It's not every day a great man like your master gives a Lady such as myself an opportunity to show him what she is truly worth!" Bess darted her eyes back and forth in contemplation. "Worth?" She whispered to herself. Was her master now in the habit of acquiring women of fame for a price? This did not make sense to much sense to her. It was the actress that owed her master coin. Perhaps they had a falling out and in doing so, her master instructed to get back a few coins before they had ended it all together. Eilzabeth step out from the screen donning a lovely blue gown. It was then she turned and saw the famous 'Eilzabeth of Druery Lane". She stood there and stared. Now she did not make a habit of staring at women, let alone actresses upon the stage. "Here, the letter if you please." She said holding out her hand and looking at Bess. "It is a bill." Bess muttered. "A bill? How can I have a bill from your master...I haven't even performed his play yet." She looked concern as she she opened the letter. It was upon reading the letter that Elizabeth's face started to turn a shade of crimson. At first a low growl came from deep in her chest. Her words were low and somewhat tainted with a seething anger only women of such theatrical ability could have. Bess watched her turn from a lovely creature of poise unto a she devil in less than a minute flat. "How...dare...he...even...think...of...Oooo!" The words came slowly and evenly, but as she looked into her eyes she feared that her life might be in peril. "You are Killingsworth's servant?!" She shouted shredding the bill in fury and throwing it back into her face. "It was instructed by my master to come and collect the fee in full, Mistress and I was told not to come back until I had it." She then walked up to Bess and raised an eyebrow at her. "Then take a bloody seat...for you will be making yourself at home for quite some time." She then pushed her down into the dressing table chair. "I must protest, Mistress!" Bess said trying to stand. Eilzabeth quickly placed her hand upon her shoulder to keep her in place. "Are you a thickie? I don't have your master's money!" She said once again bellowing a deep and demanding tone. As Bess looked up at her, Elizabeth said nothing. What was she going to tell her master when and if she got back to the inn? "I need more time." She demanded as she looked through her jewelry box for something. "I will have a play opening within three weeks and rest a sure it will be brilliant! It was written by the famous playwright, Mr. Dryden." Bess stood and watched as Elizabeth franticly look about her table. "I am sure that it would be, Mistress, but I need the money now." As she opened the last of her drawers she pulled from it the stack of bills that her maid servant had hidden from him upon his arrival. Elizabeth stood there clutching the bills in her hands. "As you can see, your master is not the only one waiting in line for money. And like the rest of them, he will have to wait for his share." But Bess shook her head at her. "Sorry...won't do!" And then folded her arms, leaning back into the chair. Eilzabeth's eyes widen as she looked at this servant's blatant arrogance towards her. "Fine!" She said throwing the bills in her face. "You master wants his money?! Then he will have to come to me directly for it!" Eilzabeth quickly opened her dressing room door and screamed for her stage grunts. It didn't take long for two of the biggest men she had ever seen in her life to appear standing in front of the dressing room door.

Reggie sat on the edge of his bed rummaging through his meager items which survived his passing and the fire that destroyed the Inn he stayed at several months back. In his possession were two letters from Darnley that spoke of his ‘employment’, a small note from his beautiful but deadly cousin, Tess St. Claire, and a small brass key. He carefully took a piece of hemp twine and laced it through the key’s head tying it in a knot, then placing it around his neck for safe keeping. With his left hand he managed to tuck under his linen shirt then padded the key to his chest as if to reassure his self of its location. Noise from the street drew him near the balcony window once again. The rain was light but consistent that day. He wondered what was taking Bess and if she was successful with obtaining what was rightfully his. It was then Reggie’s eyes were drawn to the little two -story flat across the street. There in the upper most window, he could see a figure of an old man walking about his dimly light room. It had been almost three whole months of solitude for Reggie. When he was finally well enough to leave the croaker’s dwelling, he was determine not to draw too much attention to himself. He wanted to make sure that those who knew of him in his past life fully accepted that he had perished that horrible night. This would make things easier for him to implement his plan of revenge. Yet, there were a few things he still needed to do before everything would fall into place. Reggie’s eyes narrowed again as he tried to focus into the dimly lit room across the way. “It issss the caussse…It isss the caussse…” He whispered to himself. “

Interesting...I wonder how many women were successful in landing a 'rich admirer'? Is there any evidence, other than Nelly Gwen or any of the other 'Miss' that ended up in the King's bed, that made out well?

It had been raining on and off most of the day on that summer morning and the crowds at the Theater dwindled miserly to Eilzabeth Remsfield's liking. "Oh, this will not do!" She muttered to herself as she looked through the curtain. The audience was waiting for the first act to begin. Then she looked over at her dressing table where a stack of unpaid bills laid unattended. "Damn them to Hell!" She cursed. "I cannot expect to live the life I am accused to if the cursed people of Port Royal haven't got the good sense God has given them to appreciate a fine actress as myself. They rather sit and listen to priests on Sunday then to hear me and my lively performance!" Her hand maiden quickly passed her a note as the rest of the stage crew rushed about to get things ready for the first act. "Oh lovely!" She let out a sigh. "We are saved..saved I tell you." She quickly kissed the forehead of the maid servant and smiled uncontrollably. "Looks like John Dryden has received my letter. He has agreed to let us do his new play, "All for Love". I hope that this will show you all I can still manage and obtain a first class playwright!" With that she tucked the letter into her tight fitting breaches and waited for her cue. "This will be the week we perform The Country Wife!" She said with a sniff and then walked out upon the stage with a smile. Now, if it hadn't been for to Bess' employer demanding payment from the famous Eilzabeth Remsfield, she would have never had ventured out that afternoon in the deluge bad weather. It took her almost a good half hour to walk the street to the theater. Her hands and feet were completely soaked. She was not in the mood for an argument, especially with an actress. They always seemed to make matters worse with their poise for drama. It was hard to make a point while they yelled, cried, wailed and threw things at you. With a sigh she looked up at the theater entrance and walked in. There she managed to find her way through the tiny little path down to the main seating area. It was then Bess saw her. She stood there performing her scene with such poise and grace. It took her a good minute or two to realized she was performing a comedy. She sat there trying to warm up and looked over the paperwork her employer had given her. She didn't care for this part of her job. Never did, really. Collecting debts were just one of many 'uncomfortable' jobs he had been performing these last six months. She looked at her paperwork again; "the sum of 367 pounds due August 17th 1696. Payment to be claimed in full from Elizabeth Remsfield". She looked about then saw the stairs leading to the back of the stage. She knew once there, they would have a hard time throwing her out. She stood and made her way to the back stairs. Once there, she walked up the landing towards the back room where the performers dressed. "Here? What are you doing here?" Asked the maid servant as she looked at her up and down. "I must speak with Mrs. Remsfieled "Do you, now?" Sniffed the maid servant. "As you can see she's performing." "I will wait until she is done." Bess said taking a seat at the actress' dressing table. "Wait if you like, but she doesn't take lightly to strangers." She smiled lightly, then turned to see the pile of unpaid bills on her dressing table. "What's your business, here?" Said the maid servant quickly snatching the bills up in her hands. "Oh, I would like to discuss my employers business with her." Suddenly, the maid servant looked pleased and somewhat surprised. With a smile she quickly changed her tune. "Oh yes, of course!" She said quickly pouring her a goblet of wine. "Of foolish me, we were expecting you. When the miss is done with her performance I will make sure I notify her of your arrival. Please, make yourself at home." With that the maid servant left the room. Bess looked about the room briefly. The costumes, make-up and props scattered the room. "My word...is this what she spent the money on?!" The maid servant quickly dashed her way towards the stage left. "Quickly!" She said looking at one of the stage hands. "The moment Mrs. Remsfield is finished you tell her that there is an important visitor waiting for her in her dressing room!"

The knock upon his door made his heart race. “Who isss there?” He questioned back. “It is I, Bess. I’ve come to deliver your morning meal, Sir.” Her voice sounded raised and forced. He knew that she did not care to wait upon him. Was it fear that she felt every time she looked at his face? He “Yes, of courssse. One moment.” And with that he pulled his banyan around him and crawled back into bed. “You may enter.” The door slowly opened. She awkwardly pushed the door aside as she carried his tray to the small table near his bed. “It is almost mid morning, Sir. You right to be out of bed by now?” Reggie said nothing as she laid the napkin upon his lap. “Is there any news from England?” Bess pulled back for a moment and shook her head. Reggie rolled his eyes and muttered a slight profane word under his breath. “Oh do go on…I do not have all day.” He commanded her to continue with the tray. “If I may Sir?” Bess said hesitantly. “Yessss?” Reggie paused as he was about to attack his meal with his fork. “I hear there is a new owner of the theater now.” “Yesss, yessss…so?” He continued to devourer his food. Bess watched as Reggie clumsily handled his fork and brought it to his deformed mouth. “I hears it be a woman, Sir. “Tis all. I think her name be Renfield, or Radfield or some…” “Elizabeth Remsfield?!” Bess stood there for a moment…somewhat amazed. The words blurted out so quickly…he didn’t even stutter! “Right, that’s it!” “Damn Bitch!” Reggie shouted, almost tipping his tray over upon the floor. “Of all the little whore to come to this island…ssshe owes me a pretty penny!” Reggie tone once more grew vile. “Bess, I want you to take a letter to Mrs. Remsfield. You’ll stay and wait for a reply and will have need of you later on today. “ Bess watched Reggie wipe what little mouth he had left and stood there awaiting his next request.

As Reggie cast his eyes down upon the upset couple; the sudden pleasure he felt from his work was brief and fleeting. The iniquitous, sinful smirk that crossed his lips had faded back to its new arrangement, a distorted snarl. In the low lit room his eye caught a glimpse of his own figure in the looking glass. He felt his body stiffen and his heart began to pound harder. Slowly, ever so slowly he took a step closure. The lines of his body now in view of the looking glass showed everything…every detail of the horror that he now had to live. Reggie stood quiet looking at the shell of himself and thought back how could this have happen. His mind raced back to the earliest memory when the madness had started. A pair of hands came out of the darkness and dragged his body through the streets of Port Royal. Of course, it was the continuous gut-wrenching pain that he remembered the most. Days turned into weeks as he dealt with fever and infection. Reggie spent several months in the care of some polish quack. It was then he realized that he did not die at the hands of his beautiful cousin, Tess St. Claire, but suffered at the horrendous indignity and shame of her trying to dispose of his body. It was too much for him to handle. The true madness of what had happen did not sink in until he saw his face weeks after the tragedy. “Bitch!” He shouted out in frustration wrenching his head away from his image. It was a gruesome sight. Nothing from his old self was left. He was horribly disfigured from the fire. He had no hair to speak of, his face as a twisted mass of scared flesh; only his left hand showed any resemblance of normalcy, except of a deep gash in the palm. Reggie, the witty, charming Fop of London was no more. In his place was a creature so vile that he could not to look upon himself. “I curse you all!” He shouted again. This time throwing a chair across the room and smashing against a table. “I will have my revenge…my revenge on you…all!” It was then there was a knock at the door.

A most splendid and joyous of days to you Iron Jon. I wish you well. Enjoy, Sir!

Hmm...Impressive to say the least. I suprised with all the construction and redecorating you didn't wake the dead, Kenneth... ! I do like the secret room in your office. Reminds me of Batman meets Captain Tew. All kidding aside, Sir...Top Knob Job, indeed!