Selected extracts from the diaries of Sir Sebastian Thomas

Phillip looks splendid in his new uniform. Very dashing, although I imagine the bearskin is hot in summer. Just one year at Sandhurst, and then he will be a Captain in the Guards. Father is very proud. I wish him every luck. The military academy is full of bright, young officers, but I am certain that Phillip will excel even among the cream of Britain’s martial youth. He is a Thomas after all.

Constance departs for Durham University today. Over breakfast, father tried to persuade her that there is still a place for her at Oxford should she reconsider. It is a break with family tradition, of course, we Thomas’ have always attended Oxford; but Durham is very new and hasn’t yet had time to develop such traditions. She refused to be swayed by father’s entreaties. Even when we were younger she always was a wilful girl, knowing her own mind and ready to break with convention. Whatever she chooses to do with her life, she will excel at it. Personally, I wish her luck. I just hope that someday I find a woman as spirited as she. I have two more years at Eton though, where the town girls are so uninspired and uninspiring, before I too move on to university. Perhaps then I shall find a woman strong enough to sate my passion.

At last, my own time has come. Sitting here now amid the gleaming spires of Oxford, I wonder what the future holds for me; how I can mould it to my own desires. The Fresher’s Ball was an elegant affair. The food was excellent, and the college boasts a wine cellar to rival that of Claridges. As for the ladies, radiant in the most elegant of gowns and agleam with gold, rarely have I seen such a parade of feminine pulchritude. Suffice to say, I shall be forced to supplement my income if I am to maintain a presence at such gatherings. The paltry stipend that father has allowed for my living is barely adequate. Still, there are those here whose wealth can surely be redistributed to others more deserving

I received a letter from Phillip today. Life in the army seems to be one long social event, one regimental ball after another. He has been promoted to Major, the youngest ever in the regiment. Next month he takes up a posting in India.

I wonder if the promotion has anything to do with the fact that he has become engaged to his Colonel’s daughter. Not that I begrudge him such an honour. I know that is how the military works, and Phillip deserves the promotion on merit alone. By all reports, he is an excellent soldier and deserves recognition. I still remember the accolades he received from the other junior officers when he passed out from Sandhurst head of his class. Father and mother were so proud, as was I. He is a credit to the family name.

What a beauty! What a delight! Madeleine Weston truly is a joy to be with. It seems incredible that the Master’s daughter can be so much the antithesis of her dour, dreary father. Dr Weston is so strait-laced and prurient. Although perhaps it is not so surprising that Madeleine has chosen a different path. Her mother was invalided while she was yet a child, and she has grown to glorious womanhood unrestrained by the watchful eyes of others of her own fair gender

Often had I seen her in the grounds or about the town, and admired her beauty; yet she had rejected all my advances. Eyes cast down in maidenly modesty, her voice barely a whisper, always would she bespeak me to be not so forward.

This afternoon, as I was walking along the riverbank, I saw her out riding there. Our eyes met and she held my gaze. Did the mare really throw her, or was the fall she took just a feminine ruse? Not that it is of consequence. As I helped her to her feet once more she drew close. Her body quivered against mine; her breath was soft on my throat. I could not resist the hunger that she aroused in me, and her lips answered mine with a passion I could scarce believe. I am sore smitten.

I can still picture her now as I sit here writing, the late autumn sun dappling her lily-white skin, the rhythmic rise and fall of her bosom, as she slept within my arms. If I continue to write of her beauty in this way, I will be unable to sleep when I retire for the night. Madeleine is truly a diamond amidst the granite and sandstone of Oxford.

Within her father’s domain, she plays the role of the dutiful daughter. She manages his household with a cool efficiency, and treats any advance by students with aloofness and disdain. Away from the constraints of the college, she is a spirited and strong-willed girl, with a passion for the good things of life that matches my own. It is as though we are kindred spirits, destined for each other.

Constance wrote me from Hong Kong. It seems that she is on an expedition to map the delta of the Pearl River, and to maintain a record of all flora and fauna that they find on their travels. Despite the rain and the mosquitoes, the makeshift warehouses, and the murmurings of war with the Chinese, her description makes the colony sound so exotic and exciting. I shall definitely have to visit there someday, once I have graduated.

She met up with Phillip in Bombay on the voyage out, and reported that he and his wife are both well. Edith is expecting their first at Easter-time, and naturally Phillip is hoping for a son. They are returning to England for the birth. I must acquire something special as a baptismal gift.

Took four wickets and scored a century against Cambridge today. Surely that must guarantee my blue. The celebrations for our victory lasted long into the night, and I drank rather more champagne than was good for me. As a result, I accepted a dare to clean out the Cambridge Sporting Association’s trophy cabinet.

Intoxicated as I was, still it was no great challenge. The locks were sturdy and secure, and a nightwatch guarded the door, but the catch on the pavilion skylight was a flimsy affair. I was tempted to clean out the club funds from the office safe as well. It was only a Magswick III model, I could have opened it inside two minutes. This was a college jape though, rather than a serious job. And too many witnesses had heard the challenge, among whom I have no desire to reveal my talent with locks. It may draw unwanted suspicions on my other nocturnal rambles.

Madeleine, my beloved. You understand that I am ruled by my passion to possess all that is beautiful. You know also that such desire includes other women, yet still am I faithful to you in my heart. We are so alike: I knew exactly how you would react. You pouted and turned your back on me when I explained how I entertained Prudence Henshaw, the chaplain’s wife, within the hallowed precincts of the chapel gardens; yet your eyes were agleam with excitement rather than tears. When you relented, and came to me once more, you ardour almost overwhelmed me. I do believe that you find these tales of my amours with other women arousing.

Sweet Prudence was a butterfly, beautiful but lacking in the imagination; a romantic soul, bored with her husband and yet not realising the delights that such carnal liaisons can bring. I taught her new pleasures she had never even guessed at before: she gave me little in return. But you, my darling Madeleine, it is you who leads me to heights of joy that I have never before experienced. I may be unfaithful, I may share my body with other women, but it is you that I love with all my heart.

I was carpeted by the Master today. Dr Weston spoke of the incident at the Cambridge Sporting Association the evening after the cricket match. ‘Conduct unbecoming of a gentleman’ was how he described my exploits off the field. Even though I had returned all the trophies anonymously, I am to be rusticated, sent down, expelled in disgrace. Had this been the only reason, I would have contested his decision, perhaps used father’s influence to make him reconsider. After all, it was no more than a student lark, and nobody was harmed. Indeed, I believe his own reaction to this jape to be unjust and excessive. The real motive, though, for my expulsion was discreetly left unspoken.

It seems that news of my dalliances with the chaplain’s wife has reached his ears. Not that he mentioned Prudence by name, nor made direct reference to anything that Foster the college porter might have heard or seen that night in the chapel garden, yet it was implicit in the silences between each word he spoke. The chaplain himself has made no complaint, perhaps fearful of the imagined disgrace; and Prudence has no cause for grievance. Against this charge, I cannot defend myself; for to do so would be to make public such facts as would have been improper. There are some things that a gentleman just will not do.

Thank goodness he doesn’t know about Madeleine and I. If he even suspected...

Father was livid when he heard the news, but fortunately I was able to dissuade him from taking action on my behalf. I intimated that the Master might consider reinstating me after a sufficient period of time. Somehow I doubt that it is likely to occur, but the possibility seemed to satisfy father. In the meanwhile, I told him that I intend to broaden my horizons through travel.

Found myself a small apartment in the Belgravia district of London, and my application for membership of Brooks’s Club has been accepted, both on the same day. It really is most convenient, just ten minutes walk across the park, and they boast a particularly fine Brandy. I must remember to pen a note of thanks to Rogers, the Captain of School at Eton when I first started there, who proposed me to the committee. I am still waiting to hear from the chairman of the Bath Club, but my sporting record for both Eton and Oxford will stand me in good stead there.

At last, I have found a suitable fence for my acquisitions. Lemmy ‘Fourfingers’ Harris came highly recommended by a gentleman I met, to both our surprises, on the rooftops above Grosvenor Square. Mr Raffles, for that was his name, is not only a fellow member of my club in Dover Street, but is also in the same profession as I. Furthermore, he plays cricket for the MCC and is willing to put my name forward for membership, having seen me play at Oxford last Summer. For that alone, I relinquished my own desire to possess the D’Auvernon collection of original Hogarth etchings, and allowed my compatriot his prior claim.

Lemmy is everything I had been led to believe and more. He is willing to fence anything that I acquire, and that I choose not to retain for my own private collection. He is even able to provide architectural drawings and plans for almost any building in the London area, and has a string of contacts in the other major cities of New Europa.

On hearing that I intended to spend a fortnight in Paris for the Beaujolais Nouveau, he has given me a letter of introduction to one Henri Delatois. That is most convenient, as there is an intriguing display of Bayernese porcelain at the Galerie des Tuilleries.

Perhaps it was not such a wise idea for me to return to Oxford, but it was necessary that I see you, Madeleine my love. London is so dull, but anywhere in the world would be dull without you there at my side. Foolish as it was, I also wished to visit your father, and to ask his permission formally that I might court you now that I have established myself on the London scene.

Somebody must have recognised me as I disembarked from the train. Shortly thereafter, I was accosted in one of the darker byways of the town, and beaten by members of the college rugby team sent by the Master. Good fellows all, I knew several of them from when I was on the squad myself. They for their part were most apologetic, holding some of the newer undergraduates in check, and I was not severely hurt. Yet I know now that your father will never permit us to see each other. His message was clear, that I was a scoundrel and never to darken the cloisters of Oxford again. At least I am sure he knows nothing about us. If he had learned of our relationship, I believe that I would have met with a rather more severe thrashing, and not at the hands of those whom I call friends.

By chance, it was chaplain Henshaw that found me and salved my bruises. I never was much good at performing such tasks myself. He has quite forgiven me; indeed, he was most amiable. As I am sure you are aware, Prudence is inciente, as they say in France, with child. The infant-to-be cannot, of course, be a result of the time I spent with her. I was no longer resident in Oxford when she conceived. Rather, it seems that the dear creature has been teaching her husband some of the techniques that she learned from me.

Ah! Sweet Madeleine. I am glad for these few brief hours we have together on the rare occasions that you are able to visit London. I wish you could have persuaded your mother to retire earlier. I was waiting outside the window for nearly two hours before you could let me in. The night was bitterly cold, but I soon warmed in your embrace.

I am so pleased that you liked the pearl necklace. I was able to liberate it from a rather corpulent Prussian countess in Vienna last month. It is an exquisite piece of jewellery, yet I almost failed to notice it amid the folds of dull flesh that were her neck The foolish woman entrusted it to the night safe at the Hotel Schwarzvelde. Still, the flawless pearls pale against the lustrous perfection of your own dear throat.

I have found a suitable home for the portrait of your dear self that you gifted me in turn. It fits perfectly in a delicate Marie Antoinette locket that I retrieved from the home of Lord and Lady Wandsworth. Of course, I cannot wear it openly, not least because it is a piece of lady’s jewellery, but it shall always be close to my heart.

Loathe as I am to relinquish them, I need to fence the diamonds from the Gulbenkian museum in Constantinople. However much I add to my collection of objet d’art, I never seem to gain much in monetary wealth, Cashflow has always been a problem, but I have no intention of giving up this life as a man of leisure. In future, I shall remember to procure trinkets that I can sell in addition to the more beautiful pieces that draw my eye.

Lemmy, my London fence, gave me the name of a trustworthy man here in Turkey. Azil is discreet, and as honest as is possible for a man of his profession. Apparently, he already has a buyer who will ask no questions, and is prepared to pay the full asking price for the jewels. After Azil has taken his commission, I shall still have enough to pay a visit to Phillip and his family in India before my return to Europe. The passage through De Lessep’s canal at Suez will surely be a marvel.

Dinner at Sir Jeffrey Manders’. What a frightful bore. The food was good, the cigars and port were excellent, but the company was truly dreadful. Two elderly spinsters; a retired military gentleman and his Seelie wife, and a failed music hall comedian. I cannot help but wonder why I was invited though: surely even that gorgon, Lady Manders, cannot be so gauche as to have considered me an appropriate companion for the mistress Alicia. Only the Daoine Sidhe was attractive and entertaining and, I suspect, as bored as I. Alas! The delectable Faerie lady resisted all my advances, yet I believe given time… Suffice to say, I have her address in London.

Conversation at the dining table centred on the Second Compact, recently signed with the Unseelie. It was one of the few things we agreed on, that the Compact can only be of benefit to both humans and Seelie alike.

The only feature that redeemed the evening was watching Sir Jeffrey and the Brigadier playing chess. Not that the game itself was of much interest; rather it was the chessboard and pieces themselves. It seems that Sir Jeffrey travelled in his youth, and he found this particular set in the Orient. Each piece was hand-carved in Jade. Even the board was inlaid with rare woods and set with gilt. I must have it!!!

It is kept in the drawing room safe, a Magswick VII, so it will not be easy to crack. The windows are barred, and the room itself is guarded with the latest clockwork alarm system from the dwarven Shieldmaster brothers. It is certainly a challenge worthy of my talents.

Received a message from Constance. She is in Africka with Sir Basil Rathingspoke, about to embark on an expedition to trace the source of the Great Zambian River. It was posted over four weeks ago, so I imagine she is already deep in unexplored territory.

She is still the person whose advice I most value in the world, and I wonder if I should seek her counsel about my relationship with Madeleine. If I can trust the secret of our romance with anyone, it is with Constance. Would she advise me to damn propriety and take my lover as my wife? But I cannot ask, for she is somewhere deep in the heart of the Africkan continent and a missive would not reach her there for many months.

Calamity! It was perhaps the most difficult crack of my career to date, made all the more awkward by the two Peelers having a cigarette under the light by the front door. Even when they had finished, they showed no inclination to move on; so I was forced to rely on my stealth and the shadows of the night.

I gained entry to the house by climbing up a drainpipe and slipping the catch on one of the upstairs windows. I suspect it was a servant’s room, and there was someone sleeping there. I waited long minutes, but his snores continued unabated and I was sure he remained asleep. Fortunately the alarm system was controlled from a series of switches and dials at the top of the stairs (which I had noted on my previous visit) and I was soon able to disarm it. The Magswick VII took rather longer, nearly twenty minutes in fact; but a safe is like a woman, and eventually that too succumbed to the tender caress of my fingers.

Drawing the chess set from the safe, I turned to find myself staring down the wrong end of a reciprocator. I’ve never carried a weapon myself. I don’t believe in using guns, I’m a second-storey man not a vampsman, an armed robber; and moreover, I’m also a lousy marksman, In any case, it would not have been of much use, not when Sir Jeffrey had me at the wrong end of a gun barrel at close range.

I considered making a break for the door, but the thought was fleeting. Even had I escaped the salvo of bullets that was sure to follow, and reached the darkness outside the house, Sir Jeffrey had seen me, had recognised me. My next thought was of the ignominy and shame that it would bring to my family. At least nobody knew of my relationship with Madeleine, so no smear could sully her good name.

Yet he showed no inclination to call out for the two constables who still maintained their vigil outside. Rather, he spoke to me, softly and evenly. Sir Jeffrey Manders revealed himself as the head of Her Majesty’s Secret Service. He had baited a trap, and I had fallen for it. Yet he had no wish to see me incarcerated. On the contrary, he had a rather more patriotic use in mind for my talents. That was when he offered me an alternative to imprisonment and disgrace for those I love.

Sir Jeffrey wanted a tool that he could use; one that could work alone, and outside the normal channels of the Secret Service. He needed someone discreet, who could move within Society and travel the continent without questions being asked. The someone that he had in mind was me.

When called upon, I am to perform certain tasks that he left, as yet, unspecified. He does not mind my continuing to ply my trade for financial and aesthetic gain on the continent, but I am to cease my burglarious activities within Britain, or against British citizens abroad, unless he requests such. I gave him my word, but only on condition that I deemed the cause honourable, and beneficial to my country.

Would that we might wed, my beloved Madeleine. The occasional night that we spend together every few months does not serve to sate my longing for you. Now that the Season has started once more, I crave to have you on my arm. The new debutantes unleashed on Society this year are both willing and able to satisfy my more corporeal desires, but they lack any real fire and passion. Only you have ever been able to quench the hunger that resides in my soul.

We have discussed the possibility, I know, and there are days when I would willingly defy even the Wild Hunt to have you as my wife. I dream that you have left Oxford and chosen to join me here; yet I accept that, for the moment, it cannot be. Your father’s reach is long. He has influence here in London, powerful friends among the Steam Lords. If he wished, he could have us cut from society. I believe he would too! I wonder if it is he who has been starting those scurrilous rumours suggesting that I have an addiction to opium? If it were just my own reputation at stake, I would be willing to accept the consequences for I am not without friends of my own; but I cannot risk your dear virtue and honour.

The other day, I received an invitation to dine with Prince Albert’s companions at the Marlborough Club. I suspect that Sir Jeffrey had a hand in that. It is no secret that he and Bertie are close friends. Moving in such circles, I might have the influence to face your father’s wrath.

Now I understand why Sir Jeffrey was so eager that I meet with Prince Albert’s closest companions. They have asked me to retrieve a series of letters between Lord Ashton Montague and the editor of the Reynold’s News.

Reading this correspondence, I see that the Steam Lords are responsible for manufacturing scandalous rumours in order to convince the Queen that Prince Albert is unfit to rule. They believe that the young Prince Leopold would be more pliant as our great monarch’s successor.

Now I know that I made the correct decision that night in Sir Jeffrey’s drawing room. Can I, however, bring myself to inform my sweet Madeleine that her father is a party to this foul conspiracy?

Berlin is freezing this time of year, and I’m shivering now as I write this. At least the fire is blazing, and I am beginning to thaw out once more. It was bitterly cold on the roof of the BundesKrieg, the Prussian Ministry of War, from whence I have just come. Not that I had much choice in the matter, else I would have been in Rome or Madrid now, or anywhere without snow. But this was an assignment from Sir Jeffrey, and I could not refuse.

At least it was a simple crack, despite the inclement weather. The Prussians place great faith in armed guards and steel locks rather than alarms and traps. The other redeeming traits possessed by all members of this nation are their predictability and punctuality. I spent a full week noting the patrol patterns, and they never wavered from their routine by more than a minute.

No-one expects life to be fair, but there are occasions when fate deals an exceptionally cruel hand. I have just risked my life and liberty breaking in to the steal the design schematics for the new LandFortress that the Iron Chancellor’s forces have been developing, and there was absolutely nothing there of monetary value to recompense me for the dangers.

Nor are those dangers over yet. I still need to return the plans to London and hand them over to Sir Jeffrey personally. Tonight is Friday, and it will be Monday morning before the loss is noticed: thanks again to the great Prussian adherence to routine. Tomorrow morning, I shall be on the road to Leipzig, and then across the Inner Sea by boat to Frankfurt. If I am apprehended, then I will likely be shot as a spy. Prussia does not distinguish between acts of espionage in peacetime and on the field of battle. Still, I have no regrets.

I believe that father would be proud of me, as would Phillip and Constance (if she ever returns from Africka); but they can never know the risks that I am taking for our country, and to preserve our family name.

For the first time, I have met Prince Albert, our future King, face to face. Not that any reward was necessary, but it was Sir Jeffrey’s way of thanking me for the retrieval of the LandFortress schematics. Moreover, the private meeting with only a select group of the Marlborough Set coincided with one of my darling Madeleine’s infrequent visits to the city. She stole away from her mother under some pretext or other, and I was able to present her to the Prince as my fiancée.

Our predicament seemed to amuse him, yet he understood the gravity of the situation and gave us his blessing. Someday, he assured us, the unholy influence of the Steam Lords would be broken, and Madeleine’s father would no longer hold the power to destroy our standing in Society. On that day, he stated, he would himself in person give Madeleine away as my bride. Until that day our betrothal must still be kept a secret from the world, and is known to none beyond the walls of that room, yet I have hopes now for the future.