Having been struck ill-advisedly by an unexpected pang of sorrow for the loss of his little brother, Shrike made the whip-sharp decision to head into London for a bit of boozing and whoring. Normally the English capital was not his city of choice, but the Scot fancied something foreign tonight — and English was foreign. Or whatever the nationality of this delectable golden girl as he wound her smoothly into his lap.

Her blue eyes curt but carefully polite, she regarded him with a look that made it clear she was not on the market — and her words swiftly confirmed it. With a roguish smile, he drawled; "makin' the biggest mistake of m'life, obviously", he held out a hand to help her dethrone from his lap. "Perhap' I kin offer ye a drink by way of apology?"