Chapter Six

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Robin wore dark green velvet to the opera. It wasn't a particularly popular color this season, so the fabric had been cheaper. Besides, she thought she looked quite good in it, regardless of trends.

Sherlock Holmes found her before she could find him. He grasped her elbow gently so he wouldn't lose her in the crowd and leaned down to speak in her ear.

"Good evening, Miss Ballard."

She turned her head and her nose slightly brushed his cheek. He pulled back, steadfastly ignoring the tingle that worked through his skin at the touch.

"Good evening, Mr. Holmes."

"Shall we go to my box?" he offered.

"Yes, please."

He led her in that direction, opening the curtain for her, letting it fall shut behind them once she was inside. They took their seats and she glanced at the stage.

"Do you enjoy the opera, Mr. Holmes?"

He shook his head. "No."

She nodded. "You prefer Paganini, if I recall correctly."

"You do, Miss Ballard."

He knew that information about him was widely available, but for some reason, her knowing so much about him made him quite uncomfortable.

What made him even more uncomfortable was that she seemed to sense that, since she immediately changed the subject. "Shall we discuss the case, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, we shall, Miss Ballard," he agreed hurriedly, pausing and resting his hands on his thighs before he began. "I have been hired to find the missing Baroness Cecilia Beverley. She has vanished under mysterious circumstances quite recently. A good portion of her family's money and jewels are missing, and there appear to be signs of potential foul play."

"Such as?" Robin inquired.

"A broken window. A ripped dress. Her room was ransacked. However, all of these signs don't seem to add up to a reasonable conclusion. Of course, the family wishes for the recovery of the money and jewels, but they are far more concerned about her. She has a sister, but she is only three and therefore won't be eligible for marriage for some time, and this would have been Miss Beverley's first season. I believe they were hoping to increase their family fortune through a great match."

When he looked at her, her brow was furrowed in thought. He waited curiously for her to voice those thoughts out loud.

"Was the window broken from the inside or the outside?" she finally asked.

"There was glass both inside and outside, but more inside. It appeared as though whoever broke the window purposely tipped some of the glass out into the garden, perhaps to create the appearance that someone entered or exited that way."

"Which could have been her attempting to conceal a planned escape, or a criminal attempting to throw any investigators off of their track," she mused. "What about the ripped dress? Was it old or new? In fashion or no?"

"It was a favorite from a year ago, her maid said. Rather worn."

"And her room. Was anything left untouched that seemed odd, or was the ransacking a little too methodical?"

"It seemed false," he admitted. "Only the top clothes in drawers were mussed, for example."

"And there has been no ransom demand?"

"None."

"And no sign of the lady about London, where I assume she was taken from?"

"You assume correctly. The family was in town because the season was about to start."

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