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process, he wouldn’t hesitate a minute.” Garrick smiled
    suddenly. “There’s a solution to your dilemma, you know.”
    “And that is?”
    “Do your duty by your title, man. Get yourself a wife and then get yourself an heir as quickly as possible.
    Once the title is secure for another generation on your side of the family, the Fleetwoods will cease
    praying for your demise. If you have an heir, there would no longer be any point in hoping you’ll kick the
    bucket.”
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    “I congratulate you on your pragmatic approach to the situation,” Sebastian said. “Perhaps I shall give
    your notion some consideration.”
    Garrick gave him a sharp, inquiring look. “What’s this? Don’t tell me you’ve finally decided to be
    sensible.”
    “I have been told that at my age a man should begin to demon-strate the qualities of wisdom and
    responsibility, Sutton.”
    Garrick shook his head again. “You truly are in an odd mood tonight.”
    “Yes. Perhaps you’d better convey my apologies to young Mer-ryweather before I change my mind.”
    Sebastian ignored the gossip that swept through theton the following afternoon as the haut monde
    learned of his apology to Trevor Merryweather. Instead of making himself available to the curi-ous in his
    club or retreating to the privacy of his library, he took himself off to keep an appointment at a certain
    coffeehouse near the docks.
    Whistlecroft’s message had reached Sebastian just as he had sat down to a leisurely late breakfast. The
    note had been short and to the point. Whistlecroft’s messages generally were brief, as the Bow Street
    Runner did not read or write with any great skill.
    Sir,
    There be a matter of interest I wish to discuss with you. If it be agreeable with you, I suggest the usual
    place at three.
    Yrs. W.
    At three o’clock Sebastian walked into the coffeehouse and found Whistlecroft waiting for him in his
    customary booth. The Runner raised his mug in greeting. Sebastian went forward to join him.
    Whistlecroft was a heavyset man with a florid, bewhiskered face and shrewd little eyes. The purple veins
    in his nose bespoke a fond-ness for gin and he seemed to have a perpetual cold during the winter
    months. He always wore a grimy scarf around his neck and snuffled a great deal.
    “Good afternoon, yer lordship. I see ye got my message.”
    “I trust this matter will prove more amusing than the last, Whistle-croft.” Sebastian sat down in the booth
    across from the Runner. “I am in the mood for something a bit more challenging.”
    “Yer too good at this sort o‘ thing, that’s yer problem.” Whistle-croft grinned, displaying several gaps in
    his teeth. “Well, I got a new one that should interest ye. Same arrangement as before? I collect the
    reward from the suitably grateful party what hired me?”
    “The reward and the credit, Whistlecroft. Neither are of any use to me.”
    “Must be nice to be rich,” Whistlecroft said with a sigh. “And have a fancy title into the bargain. Don’t
    mind tellin‘ ye, I still don’t under-stand why ye take such an interest in these little affairs.”
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    Sebastian signaled for coffee. “I’ve explained that before, Whistle-croft. You provide me with an
    amusing hobby. Every man needs a hobby, don’t you agree?”
    “I wouldn’t know about that, yer lordship. Ain’t never had time for no hobby. Too busy trying to keep
    food on the table for me and mine.”
    Sebastian smiled coolly. “I trust you and yours are eating some-what better since we began our
    partnership.”
    Whistlecroft chuckled. “That we are, m’lord. That we are. My wife’s getting plump and the five little
    ones is all filling out nicely. We moved into a little house just last week. Real pleasant, it is.”
    “Excellent. Then let me hear what you have for me this time.” Whistlecroft