When they were all seated, Daniel had no complaints. He was quite close to Lady Juliette, so close he could smell her perfume. Her gown flowed and whispered in that mysterious way ladies’ clothes had that never failed to catch a man’s attention. Even now a fold of the silky cloth lay on his knee, and he resisted the urge to touch it.

Opposite, the viscount’s mouth puckered as if he’d licked up a spoonful of vinegar, and he studiously avoided acknowledging Daniel’s existence. Coatsworth patted Miss Montgomery’s hands gripped together in her lap.

Hmm, very familiar. There must be something brewing between them of a serious nature for him to be so bold.

“I don’t know if I am worried or vexed. It is like Father to be late to every function, but not to fail to appear entirely.” Miss Montgomery gnawed her lip. “He can be most exasperating at times.” Her voice had a tinge of fondness, but her eyes held the tightness of anxiety.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Just caught up in something at the mill. You said he is overseeing extensive renovations.” Lady Juliette smoothed her skirt off Daniel’s trouser leg, putting her hand between their limbs as if guarding her leg from brushing his.

Did she think his company odious? In their several encounters, she’d never treated him anything but cordially—or at least civilly. But perhaps Coatsworth’s attitude had rubbed off? Did she see herself as superior to others the way the viscount did?

Again he wished himself away from these feelings of inadequacy and doubt, of not being quite good enough to be in the company of those who considered themselves his “betters.” In the detectives’ room at Bow Street Magistrate’s Court, he was among his peers, respected and accepted though having the least experience. It was where he fit best, not the dining rooms, salons, or carriages of the beau monde. Perhaps he was inferior to the gentry because he would rather share a costermonger’s meat pie with his partner, Ed Beck, than consommé with the peerage.

They left the more densely packed part of the city and headed into the open countryside. Hammersmith was less than ten miles from Berkley Square, and the road was good.

When they reached the village that bordered the Thames, they turned a bit south toward the river and pulled to a stop several houses up the lane from the mill. Daniel noted sounds of splashing water in the distance as he wrenched the carriage door open and leapt to the cobbles, eager to escape the confines of the closed space and get out first so as to be the one who helped the ladies.