The Scoundrel and I - Katharine Ashe Page 0,63

justifiably and without recourse to secrecy, and hear him defend himself with mine own ears than sit like an Eastern despot upon his throne who waits for his henchmen to perform Despicable Deeds in his name. My methods must remain pristine so that my victory is too.

I have not recalled my agent from the countryside; his troubles are sufficiently noisome to inhibit his progress without my intervention. But when he is again mobile I will inform him of my desire to quit this project. For now. For when this Falcon Club member returns to London, I will confront him and he will be obliged to answer to you, the People of Britain, for his criminal excess.

—Lady Justice

~o0o~

My Dearest Lady,

I breathe a sigh of profound relief. Quit your pursuit of my fellow club member, indeed. But know this: I am already in London. I entreat you, pursue me instead. If you should find me, I promise you a most satisfying Interrogation.

In eager anticipation,

Peregrine

Secretary, The Falcon Club

~o0o~

My Dearest Lady Justice,

My admiration for you has grown such that I cannot hide the news: I have lost another member of the Falcon Club. Since you have become so adept at hounding down my fellow club members, I wonder if I could prevail upon you to search out this one and bring her back into the fold. She is difficult to miss: walks with a stoop, carries a cane, suffers from myopia. I haven’t an idea as to where she has gone. Perhaps your sleuthing skills will save the day.

With all my gratitude and ever increasing affection,

Peregrine

Secretary, The Falcon Club

~o0o~

To Peregrine, at large:

You are a cabbage head. I hadn’t any idea that one of your members was a lady. I am not a nitwit, Mr. Bird Man. You chose to describe a woman of ill appearance to make my quest seem ridiculous. But your attempt at cleverness reveals you; you would not have mentioned a lady at all if there weren’t one in your club. No gentleman would have even paused to consider it.

Point goes to Lady Justice.

You are arrogant and bored, and thus seek to taunt me to amuse yourself. Idle wealth corrupts as swiftly as absolute power. You, Mr. Peregrine, are corrupted.

— Lady Justice

~o0o~

My Dearest Lady,

To be corrupted with you would be to live heaven upon earth. Name the day, the hour, the location. I will bring a single red rose and my ardor.

Yours entirely,

Peregrine

~o0o~

My Fellow Subjects of Britain,

The King is dead. Long live the King. And, apparently, his coronation crown. My sources within St James’s Palace tell me that our august new monarch is so enamored of the crown constructed for his coronation ceremony that he has petitioned Government to purchase it outright. An elaborate collection of silver, gold and diamonds that graced His Majesty’s brow for only a few fleeting moments, it cost the Treasury of this Kingdom more than twenty-five thousand pounds to hire the jewels for the occasion. Now he wishes to further deplete the Royal Coffers so that he can, every morning when waking and every evening when retiring, feast his eyes upon its magnificence and in doing so know himself to be worthy of the honor of his God-given place.

I am nearly speechless. Members of Parliament, if you approve this expenditure, the People of this Nation will finally know you entirely bereft of wisdom and restraint, and rise up in protest. Allow good sense to guide you. Dismantle the coronation crown before it dismantles our kingdom.

— Lady Justice

~o0o~

My Lady,

It seems from your latest incitation to revolution that you actually glimpsed the coronation crown. You must have been in the crowd at the festivities. Did my gaze traveling over the press of people rest upon your face without knowing you? What a tragedy, that I might have seen you and failed to recognize in your eyes that glimmer of rebellion that is spectacularly, uniquely yours.

But could I have in fact seen you? For on that day as I looked about the place I vow that I felt a frisson of awareness pass through me, a thrilling shock of sensation that I can only call the heat of intimate familiarity. Was I perhaps at that moment looking upon you? I would be wrong to doubt it. For any man knows that the ignorant eye sometimes does not clearly see what the heart recognizes well.

With new hope,

Peregrine

Secretary, The Falcon Club

~o0o~

To Peregrine, at large:

As always the evidence upon which you base your conclusions is faulty. You assume that I attended the