DANIEL WAITED IN THE NARROW park in front of the Montgomery home, biding his time until Lady Juliette arrived. Her carriage finally rounded the corner onto Eaton Square, and he straightened away from the tree he’d leaned on and made his way across the cobbles to open the carriage door for her.

“I didn’t realize you would be here.” Lady Juliette alighted with the grace of a ballerina and reached back inside to gather her reticule and a ruffled ribbon. “Though I had hoped to see you soon. I was able to gather some of the information you asked for, but no details.” She grinned and poked him in the arm. “You nearly blew the gaffe, staggering all over the park like that. What happened?”

He took her teasing with a rueful smile, knowing he deserved it. “It was as I said. New boots on the long grass. My heel caught just as I gave you the note. We’re lucky we didn’t both land in a heap on the turf.”

“Perhaps you would benefit from some dancing lessons or walking ridgepoles. You need to work on your balance.” She smiled smugly. The balance exercises Sir Bertrand put them through always came more easily to her than to him.

Daniel used his truncheon to rap on the Montgomery door, but softly, in deference to all the black crepe draped on the entrance signified.

“What did you learn from questioning Mrs. Carlyle?”

“I wasn’t able to question her per se, but I did observe her and hear a few things. She certainly has a reputation, and she demonstrated her skills at flirtation quite openly at the tournament. If the rumors are not true, she is doing nothing to dispel them. I couldn’t see a way to get her to admit to me that she’d had a tryst with Mr. Montgomery on such short acquaintance, but from what I saw, she is not enamored of her rather old mill-owning husband and is open to diversions of a romantic nature. I cannot think she would make such a lateral move as to start a romance with another father figure like Garfield Montgomery, no matter how hefty his bank balance.”

A liveried footman opened the door. Within minutes they had been whisked into the drawing room where Agatha, still in black mourning dress, hugged Juliette.

“I know it hasn’t been that long since I saw you, but it feels ages. I’ve been shut up here alone, writing letters.” She waved to a writing desk covered in black-edged cards. “I feel like a prisoner.”

“Have you not had visitors?” Juliette led her to the settee. “I am sorry. I thought you would be besieged by guests and not want any more.”