A/N: I'm glad yo be at your service. Thank you ladies. Your comments make up for the potential mindless ones I could receive from other readers. Ms. Grey, are you okay now? I hope your computer didn't melt...-laughs- and Ms. Leanan, I'm so happy to see someone else discovered my story. I do hope that the both of you write your stories and I will be fully obliged to help each of you. Just send me an email. Okay, well enough of my babble, on to chapter four!

Constantly at your mercy,

McFadden-

Chapter Four

Smugly happy with himself, the Earl sauntered home with his usual swagger. He had gotten the top hand quickly and now he was almost certain that Kathryn was still in the same place he left her, trying desperately to comprehend what just transpired. He left her breathless and silent, which is exactly what he intended to do since she had infuriated him by bruising his confidence with her words. Only he was supposed to know how to do that! He grunted aloud and kicked a stray rock with his boot like a stubborn child. If he had supposedly been the victor in tonight's game, then why was this emptiness crawling up in the back of his throat like bile? He felt completely alone. Glancing down at his sleeve, he saw her blood still there on his cuff jeering at him contemptuously. That's what she was trying to do! She was trying to make a mockery of him. Even the inebriated, who were known for their irrational behavior, could point out a stupid thought when they had one. And that one, was his shining moment of idiocy. She wasn't mocking him. She was scorning him because she was hurt.

John walked for what seemed like miles, arguing with his conscience until he finally lost the battle and resumed walking in a bitter silence until he was coming up on the theater once more. Looking at it, he got a bad taste in his mouth. Flashbacks pulled their way to the forefront of his mind of his finger in Kathryn's mouth. How hot that had felt. And even though it was forced upon by him, she didn't put up much protest. Perhaps it was the shock... He wondered if all other crevices of her body were that warm and inviting.

A black carriage caught his eye at the theater entrance. Squinting to steady his vision, John saw the familiar lacquered door with its silver handled knobs and recognized it at his own buggy. Hadn't he sent his friends home with his servant in that? He threw his head back and sighed. He would never get rid of that man! Why didn't he ever listen? A chubby pair of hands startled him when they were laid on his shoulders. John swayed and faltered in his stance, trying to see who was behind him, and he was steadied by his attendant. The Earl groaned.

"Fucker..."

Alcock just ignored it and steered him in the right direction. Some people on the street stared at them and got a stubby one finger salute from the stout man.

"Get in the carriage, my Lord."

John whirled around wobbly and pointed a finger at him.

"Who said you could give orders? You work for me, you...you..."

As the Earl searched for the right word, Alcock bodily lifted him up over his shoulder and placed him in the cart. John looked at him drunkenly as he sunk like a puddle into the plush chair.

"...you Brat!"

He waited for a response and was disappointed with what he got. A flat and bored answer.

"Thank you, Sir."

The fat man just smirked and slammed the door. The rest of the carriage shook when Alcock mounted the driver's seat and cracked the whip at the horse. John started to feel slightly woozy as the carriage pulled off and bumped from the rocks underneath the wheels. His head lolled to the side and hit a solid object. Bringing his hands up, John felt the offending entity. It was a shoulder.

"Nice comeback Rochester..."

John smiled in his slight drowsiness. That voice belonged to the gentlemanly Billy Downs. One of his gallivanting crew. He was smartly dress in a red hunting jacket and black pants. The young man continued talking.

"Long night?"

John weighed the question in his cloudy mind and searched for his sarcastic reply.

"Anything long would've been nice. A nice long bath, a long slow fuck, followed by a nice and long encore...but no, all I got was a short temper and a big problem."

The Earl unconsciously shifted his body to get more comfortable. Billy chucked knowing his friend was in a rare state of mind but amazed he still retained the ability of being himself. It didn't take long for them to fall into a sort of silence, only because it was intermediately interrupted by John's soft snoring. He had passed out within the first five minute en route home. Billy wasn't disappointed. He was surprised John even made it to the carriage. He never expected him to stay lucid that long. So, in leu of conversation, Billy just observed the man he so secretly admired. He half expected him to slip into the fetal position as he slept. Earlier, Billy had caught the tail end of John's confrontation with Rose and also noticed his friend giving meaningful stares into the direction of a stagehand of the theater. He heard about her, but knew John wouldn't discuss what was going on between the two of them, if it was anything at all.

A half hour later, they halted outside of the Wilmot Estate that John kept in East London. Alcock opened the door, fully prepared to carry his master up to the house. He carefully slung the man on his back as Billy followed suit up to the door. John had woken up enough to regain the use of his legs but he was by no means lucid enough to hold a conversation. He looked over at Billy with glazed eyes and nearly slumped over. Thinking swiftly, the young man slung the Earl's arm over his shoulders and prepared to help him up the steps and into his house.

"Thank you Alcock, I can take it from here."

Once inside, Billy placed John on the nearest couch and pulled his favorite winged chair up next to it. He watch as his friend's eyes moved beneath his lids in a deep sleep. Having nothing better to do, Billy lit a candle on the table and picked up a book from that was there, flipping through it and hoping something would catch his attention long enough for an hour as his friend slept off his madness in a dream. Time passed and Billy heard a grunt. John opened his eyes to a screaming headache. Once the room stopped spinning, he looked to his right and saw someone in his room. Billy apparently watched over him. Seeing the man sitting in the chair next to the couch and taking notice of the book in his hands, John questioned him groggily.

"Have you gotten to the point where the man sodomizes the virgin with his walking cane? That's my favorite part."

John laughed lightly. Billy's head peered past the book at him with a raised brow and John smiled salaciously.

"Why do you think I carry one around..."

Billy just shook his head at him, reminded again that Rochester was such a sick fellow, but he highly doubted that he had yet to use that cane as a sexual phallus. John just rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at him.

What are you doing here?"

Billy put the book back in its place and leaned up closer, placing his elbows on his knees.

"You look stressed Rochester, so I stayed. I only wanted to make sure you were okay."

Billy was the only person he had known who found it more comfortable to use people's last names rather than their first. His eyes were large, like that of a curious cat. John grinned, looking at him a bit longer than comfort would allow. His voice carried a sudden seriousness to it.

"You're too sweet Billy...

John took a deep breath and looked away, patting his cheek.

"...why don't you go find a damsel you can pay to rescue...or maybe you can even cause them further distress..."

The Earl chuckled slightly.

"...Whichever one she prefers. Some of them like that, you know. On any case, don't concern yourself with me. I'll be fine now. I shall live to see the light of another day. Thanks to you of course."

With a grunt, he put up his feet and laid, stretching on the couch. Billing smiled softly, consenting to himself that Rochester would be alright and got up to leave. John raised a hand from the couch and caught his. With a devious smirk he spoke.

"Make sure you wake up Alcock and make him take you home."

Billy laughed at his suggestion.

"It's well past midnight, Rochester. Don't you think that's a little too cruel?"

John just waved his suggestion away.

"Nonsense! Go ahead. He'll thank me in the morning..."

He grinned at his own sarcasm. Billy just clicked his teeth at him and walked out the door waving goodbye to his friend. The Earl snuggled into his favorite indentation on the couch and counted, just waiting for it... A whole ream of colorful curses came from downstairs. Voice, quite nicely by Alcock himself as he stomped to the door and yelled up the steps before slamming it shut.

"YOU'RE A BASTARD!"

John closed his eyes and smiled, whispering softly and proud.

"Thank you..."