OK, after like a year and a half of reading, researching, and day dreaming, I'm taking the plunge! Be Kind!

Better brush up on your Canon, all, as well as your Baring- Gould. We are in for a wild ride!

Diary of THE Woman, chapter 1

Whatever they say about me, don't believe the half of it.

I was never a jewel thief.

Diva? Oh, yes. Coquette? Most certainly. But never a thief, my dears, never anything so common as a thief. Well ... If I were presented with tokens along the way from admirers, baubles that were not theirs to give- well, now that is not MY fault, is it? Shameless, how those men could get away with telling their wives that I had stolen their jewels; though I will admit, much easier than admitting they had been fools for a pretty songbird's face.

But that is not the story you want to hear from me, is it. No, I did not think so. You want to hear about my love and our children. Of course you do. Pull up a chair and get a cup of something hot, this could take a while.

I must start at the very beginning, with the King.

But what to say of Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, the hereditary King of Bohemia? I was foolish; I was very young and twice as headstrong. At first it was a mild diversion away from the Opera house. He was, as all men were, infatuated and I, frankly, impressed. A prince… and we did have our fun, for a while. Then he turned cruel and petty. I did not set out to ruin him, at least not before he set me aside like one of his many toys. He then started such rumors about me … I could not bear. I do not suffer such indignities well. I never wanted money from that overgrown boy, merely respect. Which in the end, I must admit, was gained. After several amateur attempts he did send the very best in London after me to retrieve his precious cabinet. For that, and that alone, he may nearly be forgiven, or at least be thought of little more kindly. But I get ahead of myself.

As for Godfery Norton- well, we were happy for a short time. In the end, it was not in my nature to be caged in any way, however willingly. I was within the year restless, and he unfaithful; and so I returned to the Continent. The mistress I would have forgiven, but to neglect to tell me of his consumption when he knew of my deathly fear of such? Unforgivable. Godfery Norton of the Inner Temple died within that year. Lucky for me that THAT marriage was not legal…

And so it was that I found myself again in London, in the fall of 1890. I was staying with an old friend, a retired ballet dancer who had married well. On a whim, I decided to attend an afternoon concert of German music at her urging. "You look bored, Irene, and you are - insufferable- like that." As I had nothing else to do, I agreed, as much to assuage her as get out of the house. And that was the day I first clearly saw His face. His true face; that of my most intriguing opponent, my worthy adversary, Sherlock Holmes.

Authors note: first posting ever, first actual written fanfic ever. reviews are appreciated.