“Yes, milady, a string of pearls has been found to be missing.” Grenable turned back to the marquis. “There’s been a few thefts of this sort in the past, milord. We found ladder marks under the young lady’s window, and the mess of quite a number of footprints. So my guess is that we’re talking about a gang here. Likely they came along and set up a ladder, and one of ‘em nipped up the ladder as silent as you please, and the young lady has admitted that her pearls were lying right on the dressing table in her room, just asking to be picked up, begging your pardon.” He bobbed his head at Sophie, who nodded confusedly.

She was only beginning to understand the situation. The process wasn’t helped by the jolting surprises of the past hour: waking to find herself alone in the bed, roused by Simone’s hysterical comments. It seemed that her mama’s maid had somehow figured out that the house had been robbed, or was it one of the footmen? No one seemed to be too clear. At any rate, the throbbing pain between her thighs kept stealing her attention away from the loss of her pearl necklace. And Patrick had left her without a word, without even saying good-bye, that she could remember.

Grenable’s unwelcome voice intervened again. He was a rather squat, oily man with a scrawny beard. “I shall need to question the young lady quite closely,” he was saying. “It is not yet clear to me exactly why Lady Sophie opened her window last night, given that her maid insists that she closed the window quite securely before going to her own room.”

Sophie gulped and looked up. Her mama was frowning at her, and even her father was looking at her rather sharply. She felt as if she were acting in a play without having learned the lines.

“I simply wanted some night air,” she said, her voice wavering. And then, when she spied a gleam of approval in her father’s eyes, she burst into tears. She cried because Patrick hadn’t said good-bye, and because she was bewildered by her thoughtless submission to his seduction.

And thus Grenable’s underlings were treated to the sight of his discomfort, having driven a gently born young lady to tears.

Her father was beside her in an instant; Eloise was a little slower, given her surprise at the sight of Sophie’s tears. In her recollection, she hadn’t seen her daughter cry since she was six or seven. Yet there she was, choking back sobs—and over the loss of a pearl necklace!

“It’s shock,” George said soothingly, meeting his wife’s bewildered eyes. “Very frightening, having a marauding criminal tiptoeing around one’s room during the night.”