Free Once Tempted by Elizabeth Boyle Page A

the door to check on the poor little thing because she had grown so quiet, and she was no more. You can come see for yourself.”
    Robert did just that, and to his dismay discovered that Aquiles was right.
    Miss Sutton had vanished.
    As he stared into the empty dressing room, he used the same colorful oath she’d used earlier in the evening.
    To his surprise, Babbitt poked his head out from between a pair of heavy winter cloaks. “My lord? Is that you?”
    Robert strode forward, pulling the hapless valet out of his path, and stared at the second opening which led to Babbitt’s spartan quarters. “Where the hell did that door come from?”
    “I believe, my lord, it has always been there,” a rather subdued Babbitt replied. The man paused for a moment, then suggested, “Perhaps with your injuries you forgot about it.”
    “Yes, my injuries,” Robert answered as he retraced his steps back into his room, glancing this way and that.
    He’d had her in his grasp and now he’d lost her. “Dammit!”
    He’d all but forgotten about the valet when the man said in an anxious voice, “Is this about the girl?”
    Robert swung around, his gaze pinning the little man to where he stood. “You saw her?”
    “Yes,” Babbitt replied. He glanced nervously at Robert, then at Aquiles, then bucking up his thin shoulders, he made his report. “Cheeky thing. Irish most likely. Claiming she got lost on her way to the necessary. I suspect she was looking for items to supplement her wages for the evening. Those kind always do, steal that is. I doubt you’d find a trustworthy one in the entire country.”
    Aquiles made a low, rude noise in the back of his throat.
    Babbitt’s gaze fluttered over to the man. “Did I say something wrong?”
    “My batman is half Irish.”
    “Oh, my deepest regrets, Mr. Aquiles,” Babbit-squeaked. “Had I known about your unfortunate parentage, I wouldn’t have been so bold.”
    Robert glanced away so as not to laugh out loud as Aquiles’s face turned a mottled shade of red.
    Babbit, obviously sensing his apology hadn’t made the right impression, tactfully changed the subject. “Did that wretched girl steal something, my lord? Did she disturb your belongings? For if she did, I blame myself. I should have searched her bag. I should have held her for the authorities. I should have—”
    “Yes, Babbitt, duly noted,” Robert told the man. “I doubt she committed any nefarious deeds on your watch.”
    The man preened at what he obviously perceived as a compliment from his employer.
    Robert hadn’t meant it as one.
    “Oh dear,” the valet exclaimed. “This room is quite disorderly. Allow me, sir.” He crossed the room and retrieved the crumpled sheet of paper Robert had begun to pen his confession on.
    “Wait,” Robert told him. “I need that.”
    The valet flinched at the sharp demand, then handed over the piece of paper with a martyred air about him.
    “That will be all, Babbitt.”
    The man left, albeit reluctantly, casting more than one speculative glance over his shoulder as he left the way he had arrived, through the closet.
    Once he heard the second door pulled firmly closed, Robert began the task of smoothing out the paper. He recalled that when Miss Sutton had been ordering him to write his confession on the sheet, he had noticed something unusual about it. Now that he had it flat, he held it up to the candle still burning on his desk. “Look at this,” he said to Aquiles. “What do you make of that?”
    The giant bent over and peered at the sheet. “A watermark?”
    “Aye. A family crest of some kind. Could be a clue as to where that banshee has been hiding.”
    “More like roosting,” Aquiles said, his eyes squinting to get a closer look. “It looks like a little sparrow, maybe?”
    “That,” Robert said, “is a finch.”
    With little money of her own and nowhere else to turn, Olivia hailed a hackney and set out for the Finch town house. With the family in the country,