The Word Cloud

First Impressions

a screenplay by
JtF


Adapted from the novel ‘Perfidy and Perfection’
by Kate Allan



Kate Allan’s note:
Jane Austen was unlucky in love and the idea of writing a story about a Regency lady novelist who fared better was very appealing. The story of rector’s daughter Sophia Grantchester and her rakish cousin Lord Hart is wholly original and not based on Austen’s own life, or that of any of her fictional characters. Being able to pepper this tale with some of Jane Austen’s words and phrases has been a delight and is intended as a tribute to Jane Austen and her works. K.A. 2006

FADE IN:


EXT. STICKLETON VILLAGE - DAY
Establishing shots of sleepy Stickleton village; the Rose and Crown pub, the post office, the general shop. Angle on SOPHY 22, in a drab cloak, a dull dress and straw bonnet trimmed with red felt, as she hurries towards the shop. She’s clutching a small basket and furtively checking the stark street to see if her intention has been noticed.

WRITTEN: Stickleton Village - Wiltshire 1812

SOPHY (V.O.)
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young lady of no fortune must be in want of one.

EXT/INT. POINTER’S GENERAL SHOP - DAY
Amongst the over laden chaotic comestible clutter angle on Sophy’s shoes as she enters the shop. Her steps are skittish on the dark floor. She suddenly turns to flee but by the door she composes herself, then returns to study a single shelf of books - the circulating library. Sophy glances towards the camera

SOPHY (V.O.)
I am Miss Sophia Grantchester. My father is the very Reverend Grantchester, the rector of Middleton parish and I hide a secret no one knows.

Sophy fingers the guilded titles of two finely bound calf leather spines; ‘Caprice and Conventionality Vol 1 and Vol 2.’

SOPHY (V.O.)
These are both mine.
For I am a novelist.

She selects Vol 2 and four other books without regard then passes them to Mr POINTER 40, who is more concerned with cleaning his spectacles.
While Sophy waits, she spies the POSTMASTER leaving his Post Office.


EXT. STREET - CONT
The Postmaster heads towards the Rose and Crown pub. In the b.g. a smart CURRICLE pulled by two grey horses is drawing closer.


INT. POINTER’S GENERAL SHOP - DAY

MR POINTER
Here you are, Miss Grantchester.
Mr Pointer offers her the books tied up with string.

SOPHY
Thank you.


EXT. STREET - DAY
Checking the coast is clear, Sophy skips straight across the dusty uneven road towards the Post Office.


EXT. CURRICLE - CONT
The driver is Benedict St Michael, a.k.a Lord Ben Hart, 25. Its passenger is Viscount Merryford 48. Merryford is quick to observe Sophy.

MERRYFORD
What a splendidly pretty bluestocking.
Wiltshire’s not so lacking in gentlemanly diversions, Harty.

Ben’s attention is more on controlling his greys

BEN
The girl with the books? That is only Miss Grantchester, my cousin.

Merryford snorts with delight.

MERRYFORD
Your cousin - -

He snatches up his quizzing glass from his lap and leers

MERRYFORD
- Has very fine ankles.

BEN
She is barely out of the school room.

MERRYFORD
Curves in all the right places, Harty. Hair like spun gold.

In his rapture Merryford rises slightly from his seat to peer luridly. Ben gives him an old fashioned look then mutters an aside

BEN
You old fool, she’s fully clothed.

Sophy disappears into the Post Office.

BEN
Pothole!

The curricle jolts alarmingly and Merryford’s dumped brusquely back into his seat.


INT. POST OFFICE - DAY
Sophy lifts the cloth of her basket and fishes out a letter. She places this on the counter. Angle on her fine copperplate writing, the recipient is Lord Hart. The lanky young CLERK bristles self-importantly.

SOPHY
Is there any post for a Mr John Chester?

CLERK
I’ll see.

The clerk takes his time sorting through the pigeonholes of letters behind him. Eventually he selects three.

CLERK
Here you are.

Sophy takes them and stuffs them into her basket.

SOPHY
And I have one to post.

Sophy pulls open the draw strings of her reticule and scoops out some coins. The Post Office door crashes open. Sophy and the Clerk jump. Mr CAMBERLEY 36, shouts for assistance.

CAMBERLEY
Miss Grantchester, come quickly!


EXT. CURRICLE - DAY
Ben slows the curricle to a walk, he’s looking for the pub’s yard entrance.

MERRYFORD
So is she spoken for?

BEN (DISTRACTED)
Miss Grantchester is a distant cousin, a poor relation, not an advantageous match.

MERRYFORD
Carpe diem. I could seize her any day.

Merryford winks lasciviously. Ben’s not amused. Merryford blusters on

MERRYFORD
Why should the sowing of wild oats be the sole perquisite of the young?
A man’s natural urges shouldn’t be suppressed. Nor his generosity - indeed I enjoy sharing myself -

BEN
With the full agreement of your wife, sir?

MERRYFORD
No sir. But your London lustings are the subject of open discussion in the gossip columns.
Maybe the rake is calling the potty old Viscount black?

Ben steers into the cobbled yard of the Rose and Crown pub. He jumps down and tosses the ribbons to a grubby Ostler. For a moment Ben is lost in thought. Merryford has his mind set. He’s striding towards the street.

MERRYFORD
Fancy a walk to sharpen the appetite?

BEN
What?

Merryford reaches the street and gloats. Sophy and Camberley are leaving the Post Office.

MERRYFORD
Splendid! There she is.
Come on Harty, feast your eyes.

Ben dusts himself down, although his black riding jacket is immaculate. Merryford is irritating him.

BEN
She’s my cousin, Merryford.

MERRYFORD
She’s on the arm of a gentleman.

Ben joins Merryford and looks towards Sophy and Camberley as they approach. Sophy realises she’s under scrutiny.

SOPHY (V.O.)
The older gentleman is unknown to me but the other is my rakehell cousin, Lord Hart.

BEN
Good afternoon Miss Grantchester.

He lifts his black top hat. His shiny black tousled hair moves in the lightest of breeze.
Sophy starts to melt - after a heartbeat -

SOPHY
Good afternoon Lord Hart. May I introduce Mr Camberley.

BEN
Mr Camberley

Hart tips his hat again.

BEN
This is Viscount Merryford.

MERRYFORD
Your servant.

Merryford makes a pompous, performance bow to Sophy

SOPHY
It is unfortunate Lord Hart that we did not meet before I had visited the Post Office.
Will you wait a moment please?

Merryford rolls his eyes at Ben then smirks, but he’s quick enough to see if he can catch another glimpse of ankle as Sophy scampers back into the Post Office.


EXT. STREET - MOMENTS LATER
Sophy returns. The three men stand in awkward silence. She thrusts the letter at Ben

SOPHY
I have gone to the trouble of writing this My Lord, on the subject of repairs to the church roof.

Ben regards it for a moment then folds and slips the unread letter into his upper pocket.

BEN
It’s been attended to.

SOPHY
By whom My Lord?
The fairies!?

BEN
I understood that this was all in hand.
I’ll have a word with my man.

MERRYFORD
You may rest assured Miss Grantchester that Lord Hart is a man who always honours his word.

Merryford’s tone makes this statement sound false. Ben give him a withering stare.
Another uneasy silence -

SOPHY
Well, good day gentlemen.

CAMBERLEY
Good day Lord Hart, Viscount Merryford.

Sophy takes Camberley’s arm and they head off

BEN
Wait!

They stop, turn

BEN
Sophy, I must enquire after your father. Has his health improved?

SOPHY
Yes thank you, Sir.

Ben disarms Sophy with a radiant smile

BEN
It is indeed fortunate that we’ve met unexpectedly, dear cousin, as there are some family matters we need to discuss -

Merryford empurples.

BEN
- in private.

Merryford can barely contain himself. He snorts and stamps in apoplexy.

BEN
I need to take my cousin home.

He indicates the curricle. Sophy’s eyes widen

BEN
You don’t mind do you, gentlemen?


INT. CURRICLE TRAVELLING - DAY
Ben urges his horses faster as they leave Stickleton village. Sophy sits quite stiffly next to her smartly urbane cousin who’s not averse to some showing off. He sees the wind whipping at her bonnet.

BEN
You’re not too cold?

SOPHY
No, I like it. This is quite a speed.

BEN
I can go faster

Sophy smiles. Ben grins and flicks the ribbons

SOPHY
You called me Sophy -

BEN
Yes. I thought it best to be familiar. Now here we are, my unmarried cousin, riding alone with me in my curricle -

Ben’s grin widens. Sophy clutches at her bonnet. Their speed is such that Sophy now has to shout

SOPHY
I’ve heard that rich London ladies enjoy more social liberties. I sir, am very poor, I expect nothing.

BEN
Surely you aspire to marry a respectable gentleman?

SOPHY
No.

Ben hurls her a sideways glance.

BEN
Reputation is a fragile thing once broken. You must be careful.

Sophy is struggling with her bonnet

BEN (ASIDE)
I wonder as we are such distant cousins if we could marry?

Sophy half mis-hears and splutters

SOPHY
Marriage!


EXT. ROADWAY AHEAD - CONTINUOUS
A huge coach and four is clattering towards them trying to make up lost time.


INT. CURRICLE - DAY
Ben and Sophy career round a bend, oblivious to what’s ahead.

SOPHY
That’s outrageous!

BEN
When I stoop to offer marriage, the lady will be in no doubt.

Ben urges his horses faster.

SOPHY
STOOP to offer marriage! To you, a notorious rakehell!
A lady wouldn’t be so stupid.

Ben stares at Sophy defiantly. His steering around the next bend is dangerous. His horses gallop wildly.


EXT. ROADWAY AHEAD - CONT
The coach and four careens closer -


INT. CURRICLE - CONT
Such is their speed that Sophy’s books and basket are being thrown around inside the curricle. Sophy scrabbles to retrieve them.

BEN
Let me take those

Ben makes a grab but Sophy pushes his hand away

SOPHY
Keep your hands on the ribbons.

The curricle lurches. Sophy’s thrown against him. Ben wraps an arm around her.

BEN
One handed! Invincible!


EXT. ROADWAY AHEAD - CONT
The coach and four careens closer still - almost upon them.


INT. CURRICLE - CONT
Sophy now looks rather sick. Their speed so extreme this is no longer fun.

SOPHY
Please slow down. I’d rather reach home in one piece.

She looks up at him appealingly. Ben grins

BEN
We’ll be there in no time.

SOPHY
Please! You said you wanted to talk about some family business?

Ben takes his eyes off the road and pierces Sophy with his intense gaze

BEN
Now THAT was a ruse.

The coach and the curricle meet on the corner. Ben looks back to the road - too late -

BEN
The very devil!

Ben swerves left and the coach careers past, skids but somehow manages to stay on the road. Ben and Sophy aren’t as lucky.
They hurtle off road and into a ditch.
The curricle flips onto its side and catapults them both into a field of rape.


EXT. FIELD - MOMENTS LATER
Sophy lays atop Ben Hart. He has his arms around her. Sophy struggles to regain consciousness, as Ben lies motionless.
The coach stops and men disembark. They are shouting. The COACHMAN and Sir HORACE BLUNHAM approach cautiously. Sophy’s eyelids flicker.

SOPHY’S P.O.V.
She views an ethereal shimmering world. As though she’s beneath fast moving water, her sight and sounds are distorted. An indistinct shadow falls across her.

SOPHY
Ben?


EXT. FIELD - CONT
Strong hands gently lift her

COACHMAN
You all right Miss?

Sophy groans

SOPHY
Lord Hart. Ben ?

COACHMAN (TO SIR HORACE)
She’s alive, Sir. I ain’t sure about him.

But Sophy clings to Ben, her hands are touching his pallid face, ruffling his hair and feeling for wounds

SOPHY
Ben!

The coachman unravels Sophy from the inert Ben.

COACHMAN
Looks like he’s deliberately broken her fall, Sir

Sir Blunham’s son EVELYN approaches.

EVELYN
I’ve unhitched and secured his horses. Luckily there’s no broken bones.
How about him?

SIR HORACE
Let’s get them to a Doctor.

SIR HORACE (TO SOPHY)
Can you stand?
We’ll help your husband.

SOPHY
My husband?
- Let go of me !

Sophy reels unsteadily upon her feet. The coachman and Evelyn move forward and heave a lifeless looking Ben into their coach.
Evelyn places his ear next to Ben’s mouth.

EVELYN
He’s breathing.

Sophy clambers in and cradles Ben.

SIR HORACE
I have some strong wine.
See if he’ll take some?

Horace fishes for a small wine flagon and passes it to her.

SOPHY
This is all your fault. You drove us off the road.

SIR HORACE
It was an accident, my lady.
In truth we were both travelling too fast.

Sophy fusses over the inanimate Ben

SOPHY
He needs a doctor. This Sir, is Lord Hart of Hartfield Bury. It’s about eight miles from here.

SIR HORACE (TO COACHMAN)
Hartfield Bury - directly.

COACHMAN
Sir.

Sir Horace and Evelyn board as the coachman scrambles up to his driving seat. They turn, passing the damaged curricle and roadside tethered horses.

Sophy’s letters and books lie muddied in the ditch.


INT. COACH - DAY
The coach bumps and lurches onwards. Sophy wets her fingertips with wine which she dabs on Ben’s lips.

SOPHY
Ben drink this, it’s wine.

SIR HORACE
Rather belated for introductions but I am Sir Horace Blunham travelling with my son Evelyn.

Sophy gives them both withering looks then returns her attentions to Ben who groans, then lets his head loll. A trickle of wine seeps from his bluish lips.

SOPHY
Ben !

Sophy clutches at him; wretched, distraught.


EXT. HARTFIELD BURY DRIVEWAY - LATER
The coach crackles along the tree lined, gravel driveway. In the b.g. stands Hartfield Bury, a square, aristocratic, Robert Adam house.

SIR HORACE (O.O.S)
Chestnuts! An excellent choice for such a gracious driveway.


EXT. HARTFIELD BURY HOUSE - DAY
The coach pulls up alongside its impressive steps. Sir Horace immediately jumps from the coach.

SIR HORACE
I’ll get some help.

Sophy gathers her skirts and jumps down. She’s up the steps in a flash, confronting a BUTLER who is astonished to see her.

SOPHY
Lord Hart has been injured. He needs a Doctor -

She nods towards the coach where the three men have heaved Ben onto their shoulders and are carrying him up the steps. Ben’s arm hangs limply down, his face is as white as limestone.

SOPHY
Quickly!!

The Butler sets about issuing instructions to his footmen.


INT. ENTRANCE HALL/STAIRWAY - DAY
Sophy runs ahead and meets LADY HART 44, on the stairs. Lady Hart looks to Sophy then down to her son’s body.

LADY HART
Benedict!?

Her fragile body crumples against the banister

SOPHY
There’s been an accident.

An excited red setter bounds past them barking furiously. He almost trips the men as they carry Ben upwards. The dog nuzzles Ben’s marbled hand.
Viscount Merryford booms down from above them all

MERRYFORD
What the devil’s going on!?

The dog turns to bark at him. As the group pass Sophy, she grabs the dog’s shoulders and restrains him. Lady Hart stumbles to Ben’s side and screams

LADY HART
He’s dead!

She promptly faints into Sophy’s arms. The ‘cortege’ continues solemnly upwards.


INT. BEN’S BEDROOM - LATER
Ben lays outstretched on his large canopied bed. His VALET has only removed his masters’ boots.
The dog whimpers by Ben’s side, licking his face. Angle on the slightest flickers of life behind Ben’s sunken eyes.

VALET
I daren’t move ‘im ‘till the Doctor’s been.
He might have broke his neck -

SOPHY
Brandy! Do you have any?

VALET
I’ll fetch some.

He moves to the door then pauses, turns

VALET
Sorry my lady. Who are you?

Sophy pushes the dog off the bed and cradles Ben Hart

SOPHY (IN HER POSHEST VOICE)
I am Miss Sophia Grantchester, Lord Hart’s cousin.

Sophy takes Ben’s bloodless hands between her own and rubs them.

SOPHY
Help’s on its way, Lord Hart. Wake up now - you are at home.

Ben’s eyelids flicker open, he splutters

BEN
Sophy, you’re in my bedchamber . . .

Ben tries to move but cannot. His face is wracked with pain. Sophy soothes him

BEN
What happened? I can’t remember. . .

SOPHY
Lie still -

She lightly brushes her lips against his forehead

BEN
- Are we married. . ?

Sophy’s protests are drowned by the dog’s barking. It forces back onto the bed and lies next to his master.

BEN
Nelson, what do you think of Sophy?

SOPHY
Nelson?

BEN
My one-eyed, four legged friend.

Nelson licks his master’s face. Sophy then notices

SOPHY (TO NELSON)
Amazing!

BEN (TO SOPHY)
You are -

Ben reaches for her. He steals a kiss. Sophy knows this is wrong but is petrified to resist.

BEN
Are you angling to be my mistress or are you truly as innocent as you seem?

There’s a sharp knock at the half open door. Sophy leaps from the bed. Two maids enter with a ewer of hot water and towels etc.


INT. BEDROOM - LATER
The DOCTOR has finished his diagnosis. He rummages in his bag and pulls out a small vile of Laudanum.

DOCTOR
You’re lucky there’s no broken bones Lord Hart. But you’ve been badly shaken.
Take six drops of this Laudanum in a little water. It’ll help you sleep.

Ben looks unsure. The Doctor adds sternly

DOCTOR
You’ll heal much faster with bed rest and NO exertion.

BEN
Thank you, Doctor. Rest assured I’m in good hands.

Ben smiles weakly at Sophy as Viscount Merryford enters

MERRYFORD
Nice to see you looking more perky, Harty.
Must be the invigorating effect of your cousin, here.

Merryford leers then moves to catch his arm around Sophy’s waist.
Sophy escapes by moving past the Doctor. She dips a towel into the ewer of water and starts cleaning the dust and grazes on Ben’s face.

MERRYFORD
I should tell you that Lady Hart is serving tea downstairs.
Will you take a small dish Harty?

Sophy is lightly dabbing Ben’s lips - a beat then -

BEN
Not just yet.

Merryford raises his eyebrows.

MERRYFORD
I see you’ve more urgent matters to attend to.
Doctor, this way.

Ben turns to scowl at Merryford. Sophy returns to the ewer to wring out the grubby towel. Merryford gestures for the Doctor to exit.

As the Doctor steps into the hallway, Merryford approaches the bed and whispers conspiratorially

MERRYFORD
I could run her home if you like?

BEN
She stays here -

MERRYFORD
As a pretty nursemaid -

BEN
As my cousin!

DOCTOR (O.O.S.)
You said downstairs?

MERRYFORD
Yes Doctor. . .

Ben and Merryford glare at each other.

MERRYFORD
We have unfinished business, Harty.

Merryford exits.
Sophy perches on the bedside.

SOPHY
Thank you. I would have walked home rather than accept a lift from that hateful man.

She recommences dabbing

BEN
I’ve known worse.

Ben smiles self indulgently. His hands finds her free one.

BEN
Get someone to run a note to your father.
Let him know you are staying here.


INT. BEDROOM - EVENING
Ben is dozing. The setting sun’s rays shimmer on Lord Hart’s gentleman’s dresser. His effects are set out. They’re expensive, not indiscreetly overstated by wealth but they’re certainly idiosyncratic.
A post prandial Merryford enters somewhat unsteadily, clasping a large glass of brandy. He observes the sleeping Lord Hart, his effects.

Setting down his drink, he examines Hart’s silver cigarette case. Flipping it open, he helps himself to a cheroot, which he lights in a guttering candle. After inhaling to his toes, his attention returns to the silver case - he flips over the cigarette section to reveal a finely detailed enamel of a nude dancing girl. Merryford grins broadly.

He’s about to slip the silver case into his own pocket as Ben stirs.

BEN
What’s the matter?

Merryford slides the cigarette case back onto the dresser and approaches the bed.

MERRYFORD
We had a wager.

BEN
What?

MERRYFORD
A card game the other day -

BEN
I don’t remember.

MERRYFORD
That’s unfortunate. Is this maybe because you lost?

BEN
Did I?

MERRYFORD
That’s why I’m here. I still have to collect my winnings

BEN
I lost, you say?

MERRYFORD
Eight hundred guineas Sir.

BEN
Never!

MERRYFORD
We were discussing this very delicate matter moments before we met your cousin.
We agreed that if you allowed me to take her off your hands, you would owe me nothing.

Ben claws himself up upon one arm.
Pain permeates his mask of confusion

BEN
I have given you Miss Sophy Grantchester?

MERRYFORD
Indeed.

He takes a large draft of Brandy, smacks his lips

MERRYFORD
So you see Sir, it’s rather unsporting of you to be spoiling the goods, as it were.


INT. STAIRWAY/HALL/GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT
Sophy prepares for her first night in Hartfield. Seated at her dresser she wares a plain night-dress. A maid brushes Sophy’s long golden hair.

SOPHY (V.O.)
So much has happened. Suddenly I’m here. And Ben has kissed me before I was even prepared.

Sophy stares at their reflection and imagines

INT. GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT - SOPHY DREAM SEQUENCE -
An immaculately dressed Lord Hart softly enters, his finger to his lips. Without exchanging words he takes the hairbrush from the maid who retreats. Ben Hart continues to brush Sophy’s hair. His fingers caress and entwine her golden locks, his fingertips glance the nape of her neck, the hallow of her exposed shoulder. Without protest Sophy turns her face to him, their lips meet -

Suddenly Lord Hart, bootless (but in breeches) beams bare-chested from atop her bed. He beckons to Sophy. For just a heartbeat’s hesitation wide eyed Sophy licks her lips then -

- END OF DREAM SEQUENCE -


INT. GUEST BEDROOM - CONT
Sophy stares at the reflection of herself and the maid. The hairbrush has snagged

SOPHY
Ow!!

MAID
Sorry Miss. It was a tangle.

SOPHY
I’ve bitten my tongue!

Sophy looks around, the maid steps back, bobs. A bare chested Ben Hart is definitely not in her room.

MAID
Will that be all, Miss?

Sophy waves her hand. The maid exits.


INT. GUEST BEDROOM - LATER
Sophy sleeps.


INT. BEN’S BEDROOM - LATER
Ben sleeps.

MERRYFORD (V.O.)
-it’s rather unsporting of you to be spoiling the goods -

Ben stirs. Painfully he eases himself from his bed. He shuffles into the hallway.


INT. GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT
A gentle tapping at her door doesn’t immediately awake Sophy. Her curtains are not fully drawn, so moonlight floods into her green guest room.
Ben taps again. Sophy stirs

SOPHY
Who is it?

BEN (O.O.S)
Ben.

Sophy pads across and unlocks her door. She opens it a crack

SOPHY
What do you want?

BEN
Have you no sense! Opening your door to a wandering man at night.

SOPHY
Sorry.

She smiles and starts to close the door. Ben forces his way inside.

Sophy has the moonlight behind her. Her night shirt hugs her sensuous curves, its thin material offering Ben her silver and shadowy silhouette. He delights in her. Ben’s gaze holds and caresses her, slowly and evenly, all the way down to her shapely bare ankles!

Sophy looks up at him out of the corners of her wide eyes. Ben struggles to get the better of himself.

BEN
You should keep this door locked.

He turns and leaves.

SOPHY
Yes.

Her expression is downcast as she was rather hoping he would stay. She relocks the door.


INT. BEN’S BEDROOM - MUCH LATER
Ben wakes instantly he hears a tap upon his door. He smiles believing it to be Sophy

MERRYFORD (O.O.S)
Hart? You awake.
Ben’s hopeful smile quickly fades

BEN
Yes. Come in.

Merryford enters. He looks most comical in his night-clothes and sleeping cap. His candle splutters

MERRYFORD
Can’t you sleep? A guilty conscience ey?

BEN
What!?

MERRYFORD
You know I won her fair and square -

BEN
- I have no such recollection -

MERRYFORD
You’ve never let a woman’s virtue count for anything -

BEN
- My cousin’s virtue finds itself suddenly championed by this gentleman’s honour.

Merryford snorts derisively

MERRYFORD
The honour of an infamous rakehell!
Has this bang on the head caused you to find your conscience Harty?

BEN
No -

MERRYFORD
It is not my intention to use the chit and cast her aside. I’ll set her up in Chelsea.
Not quite on my doorstep but handy all the same -

BEN
Enough!
You act as though she’s within my gift -

MERRYFORD
What other prospects await the poor gel out here in the country?

BEN
The girl does not belong to me.

MERRYFORD
Then why the hell did you offer her to me!

BEN
Get out! Out of my room and out of this house -

Merryford moves closer, his voice low and menacing

MERRYFORD
It would be a shameful scandal for someone to let slip that highwayman Ben Hyde is reputedly Benedict St Michael, the rakish Lord Hart.

BEN
I curse both you and the hangman!

Merryford holds his hands up in mock submission

MERRYFORD
You’re upset by your accident.
No doubt your senses will be clearer by morning. I can wait until then. . .


EXT. HARTFIELD BURY HOUSE - SUNRISE
A small coach and pair speeds away.


INT. BEN’S BEDROOM - CONT
Ben is awoken by the sound of accelerating hooves on the driveway. In pain, he lurches from his bed, goes to his window and watches a coach depart.
Still dressed, he snatches up his jacket, boots and the vile of Laudanum and rapidly exits.


INT. COACH - CONT
Merryford is grappling with a struggling Sophia Grantchester.

SOPHY
Get off me!

MERRYFORD
Be nice and I’ll stop

SOPHY
Never!

MERRYFORD
You’ll learn to please me soon enough.

Sophy tries to slap him. Merryford grabs her wrists, twists them, forcing Sophy down to the coach floor between his widely splayed, fat legs.

MERRYFORD
Be nice and I will stop

Sophy fixes him with her death look

SOPHY
Once we get to Middleton my father will -

MERRYFORD
He will not. We’re on the road to Devizes.
Lord Hart thought it more proper you stay a while with me -

SOPHY
He did not!

MERRYFORD
Are you calling me a liar -

He raises his hand to slap her. Sophy squirms from his grasp to hurl herself at the coach door.
Without warning, the coach brakes violently. Viscount Merryford is thrown on top of Sophy.

As the coach shudders to an abrupt halt, they’re both a terrible tangle of flailing limbs.
For an instant anger burns in Merryford’s eyes. Sophy matches his gaze with one of pure hatred. There is a heartbeat of silence before they hear the shout

HIGHWAYMAN (O.O.S)
Stand and deliver!


EXT. ROADWAY - DAY
Sophy peeps from the carriage to see the HIGHWAYMAN brandishing two gleaming pistols.
He sits astride a massive black horse. He wares a flowing blue cape, buckskin breeches, black boots and of course a black mask obscures most of his face.

HIGHWAYMAN
Stand and deliver I say!
Step out of the carriage before I blow your brains out.

Merryford steps down. He doesn’t seem overly concerned. The Coachman is quaking in his boots.

MERRYFORD
Ben Hyde . . .

There’s undisguised mirth in his voice

HIGHWAYMAN
Have you a tasty pocket watch for me? Some coin?

Merryford fingers his chin. He looks towards Sophy who has stepped from the coach and who seems to be edging her way behind it.

MERRYFORD (TO SOPHY)
Shall we give the dishonourable gentleman what he asks?

Sophy shrugs, she edges herself further sideways. A rain squall blows up. The coachman pulls at the ribbons of his spooked horses as the Highwayman’s mount stands sentinel blocking their way. His gaze (and aim) is firmly upon Merryford

HIGHWAYMAN
Your watch sir.

Merryford, still grinning, wipes some rain from his face.

MERRYFORD
Oh I’ve had enough of all this.

Sophy checks for a way to escape. There’s no nearby houses but she sees Hartfield in the b.g. She huddles into her dampening insufficient clothes.

MERRYFORD
Just what are you playing at?

- A crack.
The Highwayman fires one shot into the air.
Birds cry and scatter into the sodden heavens. Then silence -

HIGHWAYMAN
Your watch sir.

MERRYFORD
Don’t think I’m cowed by this ridiculous performance -

The Highwayman aims his second pistol right at him

MERRYFORD
Confound it!

He reaches into an inner pocket and pulls out a handsome pocket watch. He throws it up to the robber.

MERRYFORD
T’was my father’s.

HIGHWAYMAN
Your wife, has she no jewellery?

MERRYFORD
My wife? No -

HIGHWAYMAN (TO SOPHY)
A necklace, a ring?
Come on Madame, I know the tricks. Give me one item and I’ll let you keep the rest.

SOPHY
I don’t have any jewellery.

HIGHWAYMAN (TO MERRYFORD)
What sort of cur denies his wife even the pleasure of a wedding ring?

MERRYFORD
She’s not my wife -

HIGHWAYMAN
Your ward then sir -

MERRYFORD
She is my mistress! She has NO jewellery as she has NOT earned it yet!

SOPHY
I’m not your mistress.

Sophy starts to run.


FADE OUT:


Act2