1765 Britain.
Rain drenches the dreary London street. The fine boulevard deserted of even light on this storming night. Most with a sense of reason would be inside.
Count. Reginald of Badon. Was not one of those men. Sitting shielded from the rain in his coach. He stood handsome and athletically thin. Bearing no wig the man held neck long brown hair he kept bound in a black ribbon. His pale face only added to his maniacal appearance. Wearing a black waistcoat and matching trousers. A mask for the masquerade over the upper parts of his face concealing his identity. But his haunting blue eyes stare wide across the way.
A man races up wearing a dark overcoat drenched in rain looking up to the Count the man tips his hat.
“Milord, the lads are in position... but I fear we may be a little outmatched” the Count turns to his man curiously.
“What do you mean Henry?” The man swallowed nervously taking a step to get closer to the Count.
“The rain has drenched us, milord, the gunpowder of our flintlocks will undoubtedly be wet” the Count smiles sitting forward to look the concerned fellow in the eye.
“ that is good I told you and your men I do not wish gunfire to be started in this endeavor” the man looks down the street where four dark footpads approach. Turning back to Henry the Count smiles.
“We move upon the stroke eleven... anyone who is tardy loses their prize understand” the man bows his head turning around marching back to the other men.
A month of planning. A whole blasted month to prepare for this endeavor. But the Count of Badon was only too excited to get started. Emerging from his coach. He crosses the sidewalk. His left hand clasping the edge of his scabbard while his right hand clenched to a white knuckle fist below the leather glove he wore.
Seeing their employer charging forth. Every man on the job charges forward a total of ten men rush to the gate four push through the iron accent gate before approaching the door with a knock.
The door opened as a dreary doorman stood his weariness dissolved upon the force he saw coming. Before he could slam the door in alarm one of the Count's minions strike him in the head with a mallet. Setting the man in a chair. The men burst inside.
A man-servant came around the corner flintlock in one hand a sword in the other. He discharged a leaden ball at the horde of intruders. Henry himself had tackled the man and held him down.
“I wish none of these poor people dead, just incapacitated” the man nods using the but of the butler's pistol he struck him twice knocking him out. Count Reginald walks across the parlor and into a drawing-room. The table had been pushed against a wall with four chairs around it.
What surprised the Count of Badon. Was the youth standing dressed in a white silk shirt his hair disheveled. Wearing hunting boots a rapier in his hand. Reginald examines the boy with a faint smile. The brother
“You will not come into my home and take what you will, without a fight” the boy snarls two of the Count's men approach before the Count raises a hand.
“No man touch him...” the Count smiles looking down on the boy who tries to support a Lunge formation. The boy snarls as the Count removes his cloak handing it to Henry who approaches ready to take up arms.
“You men fetch the prize, allow me to educate you young man” the Count draws his rapier, and the boy skittishly double steps forward before stumbles backward hand at the ready. Smiling Reginald began with the proper and polite bow.
Bending his legs he raises his left hand to form a blade itself keeping it next to his neck while his sword arm points the tip of the rapier to the younger man.
the younger man charges first. Swinging his rapier forcefully without aim or patience. Reginald had been able to block the boy's attacks waiting for the boy to tire before parrying the young man's blade. Raising the blade to the boy's cheek making him stagger backward.
“You are brave young man... but quite foolish” Reginald smiles taking a quick look around the room.
“If you will kill me then do so...” he waited for the Count to speak before the Count tips the edge of his rapier along the boy's chin. Making a small mark.
“A token to remember me by” the Count smiles ordering the boy to sit in the chair. Using the blade to cut a golden painted rope that held the curtains in place. Reginald binds the boy's wrists to the arm of the wooden chair.
“Who are you?” the boy asks looking to the Count who only smiles coming around the side of the boy using the tie from his neck the Count binds the long white fabric into a cleave gag around the boy's mouth. Looking to the Count he gave a bow.
“a mischievous one my boy”
“Milord!” the cry of Henry came down the hall making him turn to face the flushed man.
“The Prize sir”
“well?” the Count demands to step to the man meeting him under the archway to the room the man whispers. His pale blue eyes raise with alarm as he orders Henry to rush up the stairs. Leaving the brother to test his bonds.
Ascending the stairs. Reginald comes upon the men he sent Henry with outside the door to a room. The largest steps aside to allow the Count passage.
“She says she would rather jump than anything” the brains of the group had spoken up as the Count turns him silencing him.
“Milady, miss”
“Do not touch me! Do not come near me” holding his ground Reginald watches the woman carefully she stands a willowy vision of beauty in peril wearing her chemise her thick chocolate brown hair hands loose. Stands in the windowsill looking down onto the lawn and bush that would no doubt kill her from this high up.
“Milady please but a moment, I can send these men away but I need one thing from you?”
“What is that?” the woman calls out in distraught anger. The Count had placed a hand upon his chest forming a charming smile he watches as she turns her head from the window the fear of falling plain in her eye.
“Please come down... I promise their hands will not touch you I give my word of honor”
“Honour does not seem like much from a man in a mask” speaking she still clung to the window. Her barefoot took a small slip from the dampness.
“Leave... gentlemen, go down to the parlor keep and eye on the hooligans” the Count orders giving his men a nod and they quickly turn and walk away. Leaving her and the Count.
“They have left milady turn to see for yourself” turning she seen the men had left and looked down on him smiling she descends the staircase.
“Please stay back...”
“Milady, we do not intend to do you any harm”
“Then what do you want?”
“Co-operation for starters milady” her beautiful green eyes sparkle in the dim light of the window as she had stepped back. Reginald had jumped forward clasping a wrist in a gloved hand.
“I will be gentle with you milady, do not fight me”
“The devil with that” she cried out smacking a hand across the Count's face removing his mask the man looks down on her.
“The Count of Badon: the Mad Count!” she exclaims in fear before Reginald took her by the wrists thrust her upon the bed using ribbon and fabrics from her clothing and uses it to bind her hands. Before the door barges open and Henry stares breathlessly.
“Dragoons milord we need to be going” nodding Reginald turns to Henry ordering his carriage brought around front.
“Unhand me, I promise my father will have your head on a bloody pike” the woman calls as Reginald holds her over his shoulder marching her out of the room down the stairs. Screaming every step of the way Reginald finally grew tired setting her on the wall taking his handkerchief he wraps it around her mouth.
Picking her up again the man began to carry her down the rest and into the drawing-room where the young man shouted bitterly as he watched Reginald escort her out.
“Henry load her into the carriage” handing her over the girl. Shaking her head fighting hard. Reginald marches over to the young man cupping the boy's chin in his hand.
“Tell your father by tomorrow night, I expect either the bridal dowry or she will be married to me before nightfall” smiling the boy shouts bitterly fighting the chair. Reginald marches out the door. All of his hired muscle scatters in different directions. Glancing down the way a trio of Dragoons was now down the street.
Loading into the carriage Reginald tapped the roof smiling to the driver.
“Onward Matthew”
Reginald slides back into the carriage to find. The girls green iris staring like a cat ready to pounce on unsuspecting house mouse.
“Thank you for the co-operation so far milady” looking out the window Reginald smiles as they round the corner and rumble over a bridge. Matthew the Driver was riding like the devil for the countryside where they could have some privacy.
“Whyphf dophf ypf tephenphf mephf?”
“Fret not Artemis... once your father pays me you shall be free to do as you wish” her green eyes narrow bitterly growling below her gag. Reginald had heard many things about Artemis Jensen. Firstborn Daughter to the Duke of Cumberland. One of the most influential noblemen to the Crown.
He could and likely would pay a hefty purse to bring his princess home safely. And another fortune to keep the scandal of this a secret. If the Aristocracy were to learn Artemis had spent a night and more with him. It would more than likely ruin Artemis' reputation.
Smiling to himself Reginald grins as he looks out the window. The two-horse team carries them swiftly across the city street. Within the hour they would be far from the city streets and on their way to his country cottage.
The Next day.
Artemis had encountered more of mankind in the past twelve hours than she had in her nineteen years. After Count Reginald swindling abduction thrust into a carriage dragged to the middle of nowhere.
After that, she had encountered each of Count Reginald's men who came around commented on her appearance. Be it her hair and made private jests regarding her bosom or bottom. Until Reginald came into the room they all appeared quite concerned around him.
The men had switched her satin fabric bonds to coarse ropes. They did, however, remove her gag. Offered her drink and food though the Count himself took up the chore of feeding her himself. It was quite embarrassing yet kind of fun. In an unfamiliar way.
She heard stories about how Reginald the Count of Badon had made his reputation as the Mad Count. All the gala’s and parties and dinners he appeared in, she heard he was an unpredictable man from insulting girls to starting fights with fellow men.
What intrigued her was this plot. The ransom demand was peculiar. The Count of Badon held a fortune all his own the rumors speculated was true his family made their fortune in cartography for the East Indian trading company. The Count himself had made a good fortune himself. From what Artemis had heard the Count was quite wealthy, with the beginning of the Industrial revolution with investments of Coal.
(Noon)
Artemis has been sitting on a chair staring out the window of the small cottage. It was quite a beautiful countryside she had to admit. Looking down on the ropes at her wrists she desiring to chew them off but decided it was against her better judgment.
She could very likely escape her predicament it was not like the Count kept an army of men surrounding her. She could very likely descend the window fall to the ground and make her way by foot.
The problem was she did know the Count himself would likely track her down. There was no way she could get more than two miles away from here before the Count sent his squadron of men to find her. Even if they found her lord knows what they would do to her. The Count and his orders to leave her untouched was her only protection.
Nightfall.
An hour before sunset four of the Count's men had left. She assumed to run an errand of some menial task. However, the Count had begun to get anxious when they did not return. Gathering his men and his coach he ordered a poor frightened middle-aged maid to help her dress.
The Count had been quite generous in the procural of Artemis wedding dress. The fabric was elegant Satin. Fabric a fair amount of skin exposing her upper chest and collar. The flat pleat of the gown pressing her bosom up. Artemis began to cry.
Escorting her to the carriage. The Count sat upon handsome stead while his men escort the lady into the carriage and they ride past the nearest village. The rain had begun again. And the Count was getting drenched even in a slicker.
Arriving at a high walled chateau. Artemis was surprised at the arrival when the men stop the coach and drag her inside. Binding her hands again they conceal the rope with the fabric of her sleeves and hand her a bouquet of pink roses. Looking to the Count as he escaped into the hall. Removing his slicker.
“Are these necessary, I cannot escape you especially in the rain?”
“Those are not so you cannot escape young lady, those are so I can know you will not try to strike me” drawing a dagger from his coat he places it next to her ribs. “And this is so you do not decide to do anything foolish with the Vicar” taking the lead of the rope the Count leads her down an aisle of tables to the alter.
The Vicar arrives shrugging his garments off muttering how he would sooner face the flood of which Noah built his ark before coming here tonight. Artemis had worried the Mad Count had abducted the Vicar.
The man of God stood at the alter shaking his head wiping his spectacles free of the raindrops clogging his vision.
“If you are certain you cannot simply wait” the old man huffed looking down on his good book. Beginning to read scripture when the Count rolls his eyes “get on with it!”
The old man glanced at him shaking his head with an exasperated sigh before the heavy thunderstruck. Turning cautiously Artemis watched as one of the Count's Minion rushes forward.
“Best get on withit milord”
“I know the storm is coming just bugga off and keep watch”
“Tis not thunder milord... the Kingsmen” he states the door bursts open dramatically as soldiers dressed in soaked red coats burst through two men tackle the sentry. Before a single man approaches the altar.
The Captain himself stood very tall six foot five lean features and long shoulders wide adorning a royal red greatcoat. His blond hair was short and brushed forward a lock covering the center of his forehead. The man's brown eyes were primed with lethal intent as he aimed a flintlock pistol at the Count.
“Reginald Steward, Count of Badon I am Captain Howard Bailey of her Majesties Royal Dragoons. You are under arrest for the kidnapping of Lady Artemis Humphrey Daughter to the Duke of Cumberland!” the Count holds Lady Artemis close the dagger in his hand looking to the Captain.
“I do not feel very arrested Captain... you are interrupting my wedding ceremony, gentlemen if you do not mind” the Count smiles as his two men step forward formerly of the army themselves. Drawing rapiers both men rush forward.
The pistol discharges in his hand striking the first man down. The next man was met with quick steel as the saber on the Captain's hip was drawn and the two engaged in quick slashes and cuts before the Captain had struck the man down.
Now sword point for the Count. The Captain stands his ground looking the Count in the eye the two men exchange silent words. In their eyes. Artemis looks to the Captain. It was plain he was strong and capable. She did not trust the Mad Count’s ability to fight fair.
Suddenly the Count threw Artemis aside. Looking up to the Count in surprise the man smiles pleasantly wielding the dagger in his left hand and wielding the rapier in his right. The two men stand at the ready.
Deft swordplay ensues as the Captain ultimately outmatched by the Count kept his ground as the Count struck to attack and blocked the sword and dodged the dagger. The Vicar had taken to hiding in the corner while the two combatants flash their steel.
Using the guard of his saber the Captain punched the Duke in the chin before striking the wrist of the left hand making the dagger fall from the grip.
“Not very gentlemanly of you Captain?” the Count snarls bitterly charging sword in hand the two men engage again.
“You wield two blades to my one, you have to submit to my disadvantage” the two men lock blades a moment but the curve of the saber forced the Rapiers long straight edge off leaving the Captain's forearm unguarded against a strike. Blood began to soak the Captain's forearm.
Standing at blades length away the Captain and Count circle as two predators vying for the same prey. Artemis watches the stalemate curiously knowing anytime the two would strike each other again. Unsure how to even the odds she decided to try her hand.
“Help!” her discharged scream made the Count turn in question allowing the Captain to bring the tip of his saber to knock the guard from the Count's hand. Raising the tip to the Count's throat the Captain looks the man in the eye.
“Sergeant! Take this man clap him in irons quickly now” two red-coated soldiers approach cupping the man by each arm escorting him out.
“You cheated Captain... you cheated me!”
“Suppose I did” the Captain admits a faint smile on his cheek approaching Artemis concern in his eye he runs te edge of his blade over the rope freeing her wrists.
“I suppose I owe you a debt milady” the Captain spoke setting the blade down offering his hand she took it with a smile.
“No is the least I could do... fortune for you to come at this late hour I was afraid I would be forced to marry that hooligan” the Captain gave a nod “indeed no woman deserves to be courted in such an unmanly fashion” helping her stand the Captain walks her along.
“I shall have my men bring over a buggy to escort you home”
“Do return with me, Captain, I should like you too?” the girl asks nervously looking up to the Captain who smiles.
“I will escort you home long enough to see you are safe” smiling Artemis walked with the Captain the door as the buggy had indeed arrived and was surrounded by four fellow soldiers in red coats.
“Captain Bailey? Would not happen to be related to Frederick Bailey, the Marquis of kensbury?”
“I am his second-born son milady” smiling Artemis had found herself thinking of the Captain. Maybe she could convince him to come calling. He was the son of a Marquis he was not totally below her standard.
The Captain and his men escort Lady Artemis through the door of her father's townhouse. The Captain removes his helmet inside giving the Duke himself a bow before his men turn to leave.
“Milord milady, I hope you do not think me too presumptuous as to ask if I may come. Calling on you Milady?” the Captain asked relatively timidly looking between the Duke and his daughter. The older man wrapping his arms around the girl's shoulders.
“I think that is alright if my daughter agrees” shyly nodding Artemis smile as the Captain turned as red as his coat.
“Very well... thank you milady, take care now” bowing his head the Captain strolled out.
“A nice young man and an officer” the Duke smiles escorting his daughter to her room expecting her to recount the entire ordeal before the Duke. So he would know how best to trial the Mad Count.
The Mad Count aimed to Capture a bride. Maybe the Captain had rescued himself a bride. Lady Artemis mused as the Captain had loaded her into the buggy.
The Mad Count catches a bride M/M and M/F
A true cloak and dagger Story! A devious fiend a gallant knight to rescue the damsel in distress. Very well scripted fighting Scenes! A fine story!
