Chapter 6 – The Exchange of Letters

The following letter appeared in the Quotidian Journal on Thursday, May 18, 1899:

My dear Duke Aubrey-Serrs,

I understand how you feel. You’re a loving father, concerned about trusting his daughter to another man. Far from blaming you, I admire you for it. So let me address your concerns.

My darling duke, I know how much names mean to you, and I’m well aware of your family’s peculiar tradition regarding the family names being shared among marriage partners and passed down to the children. I assure you, I’m eminently flexible in this regard. You would be amazed at how easy I find it to change my name to suit any situation.

Serrs-Penn? Fine. But I’m also happy to tip my hat to the women’s rights movement and consider Penn-Serrs, which I think has a nice sound to it. Or maybe we should include more names to make it more grandiose. Penn-Aubrey-Serrs!—it would have to be, as Aubrey-Serrs-Penn refuses to roll off the tongue. Or shall we include my mother’s maiden name? For the sake of this column, we’ll say it’s Ellery. Then we could be Penn-Aubrey-Serrs-Ellery. It sounds delightfully pompous and would make our initials PASE. It’s unfortunately close to the French word passé, but it’s actually Spanish in origin and has to do with bullfighting.

Olé!

Or perhaps you meant what you said—“I will never allow my name to be coupled with that despicable thief’s.”

(Pardon, sir, the proper title is Master Thief, but we’ll let that pass.)

How it pains me to think you’d break with the traditions of your family! But if that’s so, we can simplify.

Eleanor Louise Penn sounds lovely.

Warmest regards from your soon-to-be son-in-law,

Mr. Penn.

Friday, May 19, 1899:

My Duke Aubrey-Serrs, the much loved,

Unworthy? I’m struck, Your Grace—struck to the heart! You wound me!

Is any man ever worthy of the love of an honorable woman? No. But love and mutual affection ennobles us! That’s what makes a man worthy. That is my first and final opinion on the matter.

However, the world is a dismally practical place, and I am being coupled with the daughter of a duke. I understand I’ll have to defend my merit.

I’m a humble man, so it pains me to brag, but here are my answers:

As a master thief, I know a fortune is important, and I admit yours is far greater than mine. But give me time! I’ll get there. If you’re in a hurry, we could arrange it so that you would lose roughly half your fortune under mysterious circumstances, while, around the same time, I would gain approximately the same amount. Then we would be even.

If this appeals to you, please have half your equity converted to gems. They’re more portable.

As for the question of titles, I feel content that I come out better for the comparison.

After all, Your Grace, Erravold Aubrey-Serrs of Illucia, is one of five men currently honored by our country with the title of Duke, but there is only one man with the title Marvelous.

I hope this will be enough to make you proud of me.

Yours, ever,

The Marvelous Mr. Ryce Penn, Master Thief

P.S. All this “Your Grace” and “Duke Aubrey-Serrs” is wearing out my hand and putting a dent in my supply of ink. We’re both men of titles. Can I dispense with the finery and simply call you Father?

Saturday, May 20, 1899:

Dear Father,

I’m glad to hear that family matters so much to you! I can hardly wait to be included in the ranks of those that you hold dear.

It’s true that I have no family that shares my last name (whichever one I’m using at the moment) to comfort me in the long evenings, but I’ve discovered there are bonds as strong as any forged by blood, and I’m glad to say that I do have a family, and I’m as proud of them as you are of yours.

My fellow thieves and brigands, gentlemen of fortune, land-bound pirates, swindlers, and sneaks—those beloved men who’ve shared my ill-gotten bread at my pilfered table—they are as dear as brothers to me. They are as precious as sons. I would trust them with my life, and I would die for them. And they’ve honored me by saying they feel the same.

Just as we hope you look forward to me joining your family, we all look forward to having you and your daughter join ours.

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Especially your daughter. It’s sad to admit, but there’s a shocking disparity between the number of males and females in my family. Her womanly charms will be welcome. She’ll make a fine and much less malodorous addition to the clan.

Your son,

Mr. Penn

There was no letter on Sunday.

For the first time in six days, Eleanor could hope she wouldn’t get yelled at by her father.

Friday had been the worst. The thief’s letter must have resonated with some of the duke’s buried fears. Aubrey-Serrs had demanded to know if Eleanor loved Ryce Penn. With a pale face and hands clasped in her lap, she had insisted she didn’t know him. No matter how her father had railed, she never varied her tone or her answers. After five long minutes, the duke abruptly threw down the paper.

“Half our fortune! Half! This is the man you are welcoming into our lives.”

“He said that in jest, and that he’d only do it if we found it agreeable,” Eleanor whispered.

“Ever since those damned—”

“Erravold.” Lady Helena’s warning was laced with frost.

“—those dratted invitations arrived, you’ve protested it’s a joke! When half our fortune is gone, will you still find it funny?”

After that he passed on to the worn theme of how this could all be solved if only she would marry one of her suitors.

Eleanor felt like a besieged fortress; she was battered and tired, but she was strong, and she would hold out.

Helena rose from her seat and laid her folded paper on the table. “Erravold, she’s never wavered from her answer. Is this a new contest of wills? One isn’t enough for you? Let it go.”

“Never!”