I tiptoed into Aunt Agatha's room while everyone else was gathered for tea. Aunt Dahlia had given me the excuse of needing to stretch my legs out on the grounds so I wouldn't be missed.
She was looking for a small brooch that Father had gifted my mother before they were married. It had belonged to Grandmother Wooster and Aunt Dahlia wanted it. She was certain the perpetrator, if perpetrator is the word I want, behind its being filched was Aunt Agatha.
The jewelry box was on her bedside table, about two meters from where I stood. Stirring up my courage I strode forth and laid one hand on the lid. Now or never, Wooster, I told myself.
In that instant the door opened. "Master Wooster?"
The maid. I bit my tongue to keep the vulgarity from my lips.