| The Challenge By ABS and Donna Lovelace dressed as Fenton and went to the House. He did not know that Grayson had returned, for Quentin had not been to the House in several days. He liked the little maid’s outfit he had gotten for Maggie, and she certainly was not encouraging him to go elsewhere! So Lovelace went alone, and once he arrived, he sought out Angelique, contracting her services for the entire night. The only question was, what room? Although Lovelace himself had a tendency to take what he wanted when it was not forthcoming, he was not necessarily a sadistic man. However, when he was dressed as Fenton, something came over him, and he took his natural desire to dominate a step further. Looking over the facilities available to him, he found his interest aroused (not to mention other things) by the “playroom” the House offered on the upper floor. This was the room that housed the equipment Grayson had used to “teach” his girls, but it was also available for hire. Lovelace took one look at the “chair” and decided he wanted to see Angelique in it. The witch was not thrilled with the idea, but knew he could have found much worse things to do to her, and since she did not yet know his limits, she reluctantly agreed to get into the contraption. “Why so shy, my darling?” he asked with a lewd gleam in his eye. “This is not like you.” “You won’t hurt me, will you Robert?” “Hush!” said Lovelace/Fenton angrily. He put her wrists in the constraints and shut them tightly – perhaps *too* tightly – as he said, “Please remember my name is *Richard!*” “But no one can overhear us in here!” She gave that odd, squeaky breath as her breasts and belly were pulled taut. “You never know, my dear. There’s no use taking a chance, now, is there?” He lit a cigarette slowly, watching the tip glow before looking at her meaningfully. Angelique was not afraid of much, but she was afraid of fire. In the meantime, Consone had notified Grayson that Angelique was contracted for the night, and what room had been chosen. Candi, who was acting as hostess for the parlor, came up behind the Spaniard. "I have a bad feeling about the one she went with. Something about him made the hairs on my neck stand up." Grayson studied her for a moment. There weren't many clients that spooked her. "Thank you, my dear," he said smoothly. "Take good care of our guests, will you please." He then made his way up the stairs to the room in question. Because of the nature of the room and the things that went on there, Grayson had had a “peephole” installed. He did not do it for a cheap thrill, but for times like these, when he might want to be sure of his girl’s safety. You could never be too careful, even with the Immortals. Candi *died* often, when vampires took a little too much, but that was pleasurable. He did not want his girls tortured for some sadist. He went into the little hidden chamber next to the room and settled in to watch. Besides the peephole, there was a special alarm button that when pressed, emitted a sound that only the weres could hear. Grayson, ever the good businessman, had one *working* for him every night, just in case a bouncer was needed. But he did not need the aid of a were to hear the most important bit of information he collected that night! He had just settled in when he heard Angelique call her john “Robert”, and the name did not match the one that Consone had given him! His jaw tight with anger, he slammed his fist down on the button and then left the room, the passkey that he had for all the studios in his hand. How dare Lovelace show his face in the House again after what he had done to that dancer! Jamil answered the alarm, meeting his employer – at least for that evening – outside the room. He was very swift when called! “What is going on in there?” he asked Grayson. "It's Lovelace," he growled as he turned toward the room. From inside the room, they could hear Angelique squeal with fright. Jamil wasted no time, and immediately knocked the door down! But Angelique was quite all right – the squeal was to be expected, after all, considering the mechanism she was in. The cigarette burned in an ashtray nearby, and her john had nothing more injurious in his hand than a large feather. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. "You are not welcome in this establishment," Grayson said, stepping up to undo the shackles holding his *victim*. “Get out!" “Excuse me? I have paid my money, and the lady is not objecting. Please explain your boorish behavior.” "Explain yours, Lovelace! I know who you are. You can have your money back if you leave now. Otherwise, I'll have Jamil here toss you out like the garbage you are." “Who is this Lovelace?” he asked. “My name is Lord Richard Fenton. And I dare you to prove me otherwise.” He looked at Angelique, who was fighting off Jamil. “Ask the lady who I am. And if she wants me to leave.” Grayson pulled Angelique back. "I heard you call him Robert, not Richard," he said sternly. “A simple mistake. Please, Mr. Grayson, he is one of my best customers!” If Grayson banned him, she would have no chance of getting him to take her away from here, and she knew it! Grayson resisted the urge to slap her for lying to him. "I heard him tell you not to call him that," he said, his eyes fixed on hers. "Do you know what this bastard did? He tried to sell a girl to be gang banged who was not even one of you ladies, just a hired entertainer!" “He’s a good client,” Angelique insisted, and Lovelace suppressed a grin. She was an excellent little actress and nothing short of that smoldering butt was going to make her change her story. For his part, he feigned anger. “Do you not know that there are many in this land who look as I do? Is it not a chance that she might mix me up with someone else? I do not appreciate being called by another’s name, and I definitely do not appreciate being spied on in such a manner in a place such as this! I should demand satisfaction, sir!” Grayson looked at him with disgust. "Jamil, get him out of here before I am tempted to place his head on a spike." “That’s typical of you!” said Angelique. “You force us to stay here then chase away the good customers! He has a very valid point, Grayson! He has all the right in the world to expect you to meet his challenge. You insulted his honor!” Even Jamil was not so sure. He had seen a lot of men who looked alike in this world. Grayson sighed. He didn't really want to force any of the girls to stay against their wishes. "Speak the truth then. No more lies. Do you want to leave here with this bastard? Even knowing who and what he is?" “Why are you so sure you know?” she asked. “And yes, I would rather go with him than stay and do your bidding!” "Then we will fight for you. If he wins, you belong to him. He loses, he never sets foot in this house again, and you will stay till you contract runs out!" Angelique was satisfied with this; she knew that though Grayson was very old, and Immortal, Robert Lovelace was the best man with a foil for his time. Certainly it was a fair match, and any contest was going to give his true identity away. Everyone knew Lovelace’s skill. But by then she would be free! "In the forest at dawn," Grayson said to Lovelace. "I don't want to see you till then." Lovelace nodded, again hiding a grin. He hadn’t intended on *owning* Angelique, but with her background and the fact that she had been forced to eat a great deal of the potion as punishment, he would not find the same objections if he whored her out as he did with the darkie, once she belonged to him fairly. He was escorted out of the House by Jamil, who was just a little rougher than necessary. Although still not convinced it was Lovelace, he had been one of many that had been extremely pissed off that Lovelace had caused that dancer to leave. Grayson went and poured himself a large brandy, then told the other men and Candi what was going on. “Are you sure he is not who he says he is?” asked Consone, who would look even worse if the man turned out to be Lovelace. “There are so many who look alike. It is impossible to tell them apart!” "I heard her call him Robert, and him tell her to make sure she called him Richard!" Grayson growled, motioning for Candi to come sit by him. It was obvious that all this upset her. “If I were him, I wouldn’t want her callin’ me Robert where anyone could hear,” said Kagan. “Someone might get the wrong idea. Maybe she told him about Lovelace and he was afraid this might happen. Says he’s a laird, though, from Ireland, God bless it. I seem to remember the name, Fenton, from somewhere, but I never went t’ school so I don’t know for sure. But it is familiar. Sadistic bastard, if I’m gettin’ it right.” "Make you wonder if any of the ones with that face can be trusted, doesn't it?" Grayson said with a shake of his head. "That Sharpe fellow and a farmer named Grey are the only good ones I know of." “I’m just glad there’s no more’at look like me!” Kagan said, and both his partners agreed. But whether Grayson was wrong or right about Lovelace/Fenton, the challenge was called, and it had to be fought. Dawn found Lovelace waiting in the forest with Quentin Collins by his side. Grayson had made Candi stay behind, just in case. There would come a time she would have to be introduced to the way of the sword, but this was not it. Consone was his second, and Kagan had Angelique out of sight. Quentin looked angry. He had a long box in his hand, and he came forward to Consone, saying, “Injured party has the choice of what weapons to use.” Opening it, he revealed two fine rapiers. “We will let you choose which one you want.” Grayson was an excellent swordsman, but his weapon of choice was the broadsword. He shrugged, taking one and testing the weight of it. It felt wrong in his hand. The other was just as bad. "I hope you did not have anything to do with this deception," he told Quentin. “Deception? If it was so, then I was deceived as well,” he said. “This man came to Collinwood saying his name was Lord Richard Fenton.” He shrugged. “If you can tell for sure that he is Robert Lovelace, you are better than I am.” He waited until Grayson nodded that he had made his choice, and then walked over to his friend with the remaining sword. “You won’t be able to kill him, and Angelique is hardly worth it, but at least you will have something to warm your bed,” he told him. “I wish you could have avoided putting me in jeopardy of losing *my* House privileges!” “There was nothing to be done for it. I’ll make short work of him, and then live off the witch’s earnings. I thank you, my friend.” There was no turning back now. As the two men stepped up to each other, Grayson saluted his opponent. His heart wasn't in this fight. For centuries now, he had lived by the sword, fighting a game that mortals like Lovelace had no inkling of. He remembered the look on Candi's face when he had said that if he won, he would force Angelique to stay, even if she was unwilling. For Lovelace, on the other hand, everything was riding on the duel, and he was exceptional with that weapon. On earth, unbeknownst to him, an inferior swordsman had taken his life, but only because he was so full of guilt he had really wanted to die. If he did not want to lose, he was damn near unbeatable. And Grayson *could* be beat. Duncan MacLeod had proved that! The battle began, the two fighters testing each other’s skill. As he watched, Consone came to the conclusion that this was Lovelace. He’d met Lord Fenton in the centuries past, and he wasn't quite this good with the foil. For a while, Grayson held his own, though he had to struggle with controlling a blade that was off balance to him. Lovelace did not have the same problem. He did not know there really was a Lord Fenton, but assumed the “Lord” part took care of his training with a foil (what nobleman did not fence?). Had he known, he might have contained his skill somewhat, and still found the Immortal off balance. It was all a matter of choosing the right weapon. Had it been a heavier blade, he would have had little or no chance against the much more experienced Grayson. But with the rapier, he kept the ancient one off balance almost from the start, toying with him until it was time to strike the final blow. When it came, Grayson staggered back, the thin blade pulling out of his chest. The wound, fatal to anyone else, was already healing from the inside out. Gasping for breath, he saluted Lovelace one more time. "You win. Take the witch, Lovelace. But the next time you shadow my door, your head will be decorating a post!" His knees were shaking, and it was all he could do to keep the darkness from overtaking him. “I will take her,” said the victor, “but I still refuse to answer to that name.” He saluted with his blade, and then turned to accept his prize, which was at that very moment running into his arms. “Come, my pet. We will find a coach and leave this City. It is no longer to my liking, and now that I have you, I need not rely on the charity of friends.” He then saluted Quentin, who had told him Angelique was not welcome in Collinwood. Some lines had to be drawn, and Lovelace did not fault him for it. Perhaps Camelot would be fun? |