A/N: Well, I guess my last update wasn't received so kindly. I hope I didn't lose the interests of my dear readers. That would be a tragedy. Perhaps y'all have just had a busy couple of days like myself, in that case, I'm sorry and I know how you feel. I hope that everyone is well and I hope you like my new chapter better than the one who preceded it.

McFadden-

Chapter Five

The Earl woke up the following morning in a much better state than he had gone to bed. His muscles cracked and ached from sleeping on the couch, but that was a small price to pay for the absence of a horrible hangover. He didn't have time for one anyway, he had much more pressing matters to attend to. Without bothering to change, he headed straight for the theater.

Alcock shadowed him that morning with a much quieter disposition. John smiled to himself. He could feel the utter hatred coming off of the man as he drove the carriage while trying not to nod off. They were retracing the steps that he took last night. As they passed by Kathryn's lodgings, John looked out of the window and saw the place shut up tight and void of any life within it's walls. Good. He thought right...she must be at the theater then.

As they pulled up to the main entrance, Alcock opened the door seemingly against his will, but refused to follow John into the theater itself. This suited the Earl just fine. He would much rather endure the time in privacy. The lone usher at the top of the rows of seating greeting him politely but received a puzzled glance. John raised his brows.

"Like what you see..."

The boy straightened himself out and explained his reason for the strange look

"Excuse my rudeness Sir, but are you not wearing the same clothes as you did last night?"

Indignant little scab... John took in his own disheveled appearance in one of the theater's many gilded mirrored walls. It was true, he looked like shit. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair was rumpled, and his coat hung at an awkward angle off of his shoulders. Not answering the boys question, he just continued with one of his own.

"I'm looking for a young woman who's a seamstress here. Her name is Kathryn, has she arrived yet?

The boy looked perplexed but at the same time he feared telling the Earl, no. He looked briefly at the empty lobby behind him and then turned back to John.

"I'm afraid I don't know Sir. I think I may be the only one here this morning."

As soon as he said that, the Earl's mood went sour and he simply couldn't be bothered with the boy's presence any longer. Brushing past him, John made his way to the back of the theater and disappeared behind the stage curtain. He looked around and saw her usual area was indeed empty. He sank burdensome and onerous onto a cornflower blue, crushed velvet couch that he had seen being used as a prop in plays before. It didn't take long for him to notice that he was utterly alone.

He stayed put for a good two hours while men lumbered construction around him. Apparently the young usher from earlier told them of his presence and that he was not to be bothered because they just continued on with their work and left him alone. He kept himself mildly entertained by reading script copies left backstage by the other actors and tripping up the stage hands with his cane. Soon though, the fun in these things ran out. John just wasn't able to stand it much longer so he got up and brooded out of the theater. Of course, there at the front, his carriage waited with his servant hunched over the top seat, snoring loudly as the horse just swatted at the stray flies with his tail. John jabbed Alcock with his cane and jerked the man awake.

Get up, you slovenly thorn in my ass."

He looked disdainfully at the Earl before righting himself and picking up the reins again.

"We're heading to the palace."

Without another word, he got in the carriage and the horse pulled it away in the opposite direction of home. A while later, he came to a stop at the gates and got out of the carriage cart yelling at the top of his lung, and demanding that the King let him in. The members of the Royal Court looked at him strangely but the few there who knew who he was, paid little attention to the outburst. They were used to them.

The King appeared shortly thereafter with his usual horde and mob of dictators and servants fussing over his every move. He laughed heartily when taking one look at the Earl.

"Good Lord my fine fellow, you look like death warmed over! What's happened to you? Late night at the brothel?"

John smirked disdainfully. Of course he would think that. And at John's leisure and discretion, John continued to let him believed what he wanted. It would be better than him knowing the truth. Sadly he would have to divulge the slightest information in order to get want he wanted from him. Charles clapped John on the shoulder a little too hard for his liking, but he restrained himself from knocking the absurdly dressed peacock over. The King looked at his servants and gestured to John. They immediately swarmed him, removing his jacket and taking his cane.

"Let's get you cleaned up shall we? You're past due for a hot bath."

The Earl couldn't do much to protest that. He followed the King to the bathhouse in the north wing of the castle. He hated the fact of having people fret over him, and did everything he could to keep from fanning them off.

The steam was more than welcomed when it hit John's face. He was disrobed and aided to the awaiting bath of scented oils. All of this in the presence of the King. With one wave of Charles' hand, the servants hurriedly disappeared and left the two of them alone. Sitting on the porcelain tiled bench across from the tub, Charles spoke.

"So, what brings you to see me?"

John leaned into the hot water and laid a washing cloth over his face. His voice was muffled behind it, but the King could hear him clearly.

"I've come to redeem my favor..."

The King smiled expectantly.

"Ah! And here I was hoping you had forgotten about that detail."

John flopped the corner of the washcloth over, revealing his condescending eye.

"That, was no detail...You try explaining to the Queen Mum why her son is on all fours in the throne room with an orgy of naked menservants around him. I wanted no part in that little show."

King Charles chuckled at the memory and shrugged.

"Okay old friend, name your price."

John sat up, the wash cloth falling into the sloshing water. He sighed and his hands gripped the edge of the tub.

"I have an obsession..."

John told the King briefly what he could about Kathryn without divulging too much. Charles' expression grew more and more excited as he went on. By the end of the explanation, the King smiled delightedly and clasped his hands in amusement. For all Charles knew, the Earl had an affinity with a common whore that just wouldn't be satisfied until he had her. John liked the gleam that appeared in the King's eyes. He was sure whatever he had thought of was a good and devilish plan. John had only one other concern.

"Now, if I ask you to do this for me, you aren't going to turn right back around banish me again, are you?"

He looked at the King with pointed eyes as Charles returned his loathing-opulent stare with a more congenial one.

"No John, of course not. I do hope you realize that the only reason I did it the first time was out of love. It was a mere formality. I'll concede to your favor, don't worry lad."

John cringed at the word lad, he hated being called that and he felt for some reason that Charles knew it too. The King took his leave as the Earl shot murderous daggers into his back. Formality my ass! He enjoyed every minute of that...pompous ass! John remembered how difficult it was for dear ol' Charlie to keep the grin off of his face as he was courted out of town and to the countryside. He just hoped that the King would hold true to his request. He decided to stay in the lush comfort of royalty a little while longer and milk it for what it was worth until his skin was pruned.

His next choice was to go back to the theater and haunt it for the next three days in the hopes that the King's plan would work. The backstage regulars got used to his form being imbedded on the couch so they tended to treat him like another part of the scenery. When the actors, particularly of the female persuasion, showed up John made himself scarce and retreated to the dark , unoccupied corners of the theater. But still, Kathryn did not show. On the night of the third day, John felt he would have a conniption fit if he had to endure one more lousy performance of the same, tired play. He had to at least go for a stroll in the London air. Learning from past mistakes, he came well prepared this time with his own heavy carafe full of his favorite libation and only constant pleasure.

Passing pub after pub wasn't as bothersome to him as he became increasingly relaxed with every sip. Then he heard it. The sweet bell of laughter coming out of a well lit bad. He peeked in the door of the pub and was pleasantly surprised to see his friend Billy. He was happy to notice someone he knew. It was better than chasing after pretty, phantom noises in the night. He must've been hallucinating...

It wasn't until he heard it again that he knew his mind wasn't playing tricks on himJohn saw the object of his desire appear from behind Billy with her head tossed back in laughter and her hair down in luminous tresses. His back went rigid and his tongue went numb with unmistakable jealousy as he witnessed Billy laughing with her, lightly placing the palm of his hand on her beautiful neck. John couldn't stand to look at the sight, but his curiousness kept him from tearing his eyes away.

He heard Billy mention his name and watched Kathryn's features darken. She looked down at her fingertips, unconsciously bringing them up to rub her lip. John smiled at this. He knew exactly what she had been thinking about. Her eyes returned to Billy's and she shook her head. The Earl leaned into the doorframe so he could hear, more clearly.

"I don't want to talk about him."

Billy smiled easily and wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. Seeing red, John only saw that they both left together and disappeared into the crowd and the smoke of the room.

He wanted to follow them. Hell, he wanted to kill his best friend too, but he was too stunned to do it. The Earl couldn't move, he couldn't even scream obscenities like he tried to. He was simply rooted to the spot, silent in twisted astonishment. Why her? And why Billy? A stranger he could've handled. He would've just stolen her away. Kathryn never smiled like that for him. She never laughed like that with him. And, most upsetting to him, she never let him hold her like that. John knew that Billy was a practical stranger to her but he had to remember that his friend did have a very likeable personality. Just the kind that Kathryn would be attracted to. He stopped dead. Please, don't let that be the case... She was his first dammit, and it was going to stay that way! When had he decided this? Not being able to bear his thoughts anymore, John made his trek back to the theater. He may as well stay the night there.

Returning to the ever present azure sofa, John set his decanter down and decided to light the many candles in her area. Fire always seemed to make him feel better. Laying down, he just stared into their amber flame and thought of murder in prose. It always seemed more beautiful spoken that way, as if the people in them wouldn't mind dying. What a horrible night this had been. John then came to the conclusion that he was through playing games. He would find her tomorrow, even if he had to break into her house to do it. The flame swayed back and forth, hypnotizing him until his eyelids grew heavier and he couldn't fight sleep anymore.