Octavius’s manservant was waiting for him in his bedchamber. Octavius sent him away with a “Shan’t need you tonight, Staig,” and locked the door after him. Then he stripped, changed shape, and dressed in the maid’s clothing. Dex was correct: Octavius did owe him for his help. Not a team of horses, and not a coin purse, but definitely something.
He left Dex lounging in the armchair and headed downstairs, but Rumpole wasn’t in the dining room or the library or even the billiard room.
“Damn it,” Octavius said. The sound of a female voice coming out of his mouth was so disconcerting that he actually twitched.
He made another pass of the ground floor, but Rumpole still wasn’t anywhere.
“Damn it,” Octavius muttered again.
He lingered on the main staircase for ten minutes, hoping Rumpole’s v
