Eagle-eyed readers will notice a familiar name in Moonstone Obsession – Sir Percy Blakeney.
If his name is not immediately familiar, then certainly the name he took for secret adventures is known to most – The Scarlet Pimpernel:
We seek him here,
Weseek him there,Those Frenchies seek him everywhere
Is he in heaven? Or
Is he in hell?
That demmed elusive
Pimpernel
Baroness Emmuska Orczy’s famous hero – now in the public domain – is a fascinating character and actually credited as being the world’s first superhero – a masked crusader who uses his wit and guile while in disguise to effect justice.
A skilful blend of romance and adventure, The Scarlet Pimpernel’s timeless appeal comes from the complex relationship between Sir Percy and his wife. This is no first bloom of love, romantic tale – it is one of hope and love triumphing over disappointment and false expectations.
I’ve had the conceit of creating a little bit of a back story for Sir Percy through Moonstone Obsession so those who already know him might enjoy the homage, and those who don’t might discover a new reading pleasure.
While many film critics consider Leslie Howard’s 1934 portrayal as the definitive – with the luminious Merle Oberon as Margeurite St Just – as a child of the 1980s, I have to admit to a soft spot for Anthony (Brideshead Revisited) Andrew’s performance (with Jane Seymour as his Margeurite).
And because I love cinema trivia, did you know that Leslie Howard played two different Pimpernel’s in his career? In 1941 he starred in ‘Pimpernel’ Smith as a mild-mannered professorial type who rescues people from the clutches of the Nazis.
While his film character was able to outwit the Nazis, the Luftwaffer got him in the end – shooting down the passenger plane in which he was travelling – killing Howard, 12 passengers and four crew in 1943.
I do love Leslie’s Pimpernel, but that performance will always be overshadowed by Ashley Wilkes, the conflicted Southern plantation owner in Gone With The Wind.
Bonus Snippet – Moonstone Obsession
“So, so glad you didn’t wait the game on my account, dear chaps,” Sir Percy announced loudly to the table.
James was the first to stand and shake the hand of their tardy guest.
“I’m looking forward to replenishing my purse before I leave for Cornwall, Percy.”
“Aha! You might find that easier said than done, James. I don’t recall losing last time we played! It’s good to see you again.”
Percy gave an almost imperceptible raising of one eyebrow at the last of his greeting to James, a subtle acknowledgement of a change in their relationship as occasional fellow gamblers from overlapping social circles to newly identified co-conspirators.
Sir Percy was, without a doubt, the contact in the envelope of information given James by Pitt at the opera.
The dandy acknowledged the other men at the table with a nod and, with a flourish of his wrist, he summoned the footman waiting patiently by the curtain, and ordered champagne for all.
After the sixth round of cards, the footman had been instructed to refill glasses, refresh napkins and replenish the whisky decanter, and his further services were dismissed. Another round was dealt.
Then, during a quiet moment, and as if sensing the impatience of the American seated to his right, Sir Percy suddenly dropped the affected voice of the dandy and addressed the group in a low voice designed to carry no further than the table.
“William sends his regrets,” he said as he shuffled the deck and dealt. “He’s playing Rumplestiltskin and trying to turn straw into gold.”