The maid blinked, and her mobcap tumbled off her head. She had a red mark on her cheek that would soon blossom into a bruise. They must have been tossed about like pebbles in a jar when the blast hit.

Though Miss Montgomery tried to prevent her, Lady Juliette sat upright. Her pelisse tangled about her arms, and she eased aside the cloth, as if she wasn’t quite sure of her movements.

“Lady Juliette, are you injured?” Daniel asked. He couldn’t gauge how loudly he was talking, but it must have been quite loud, for with a pop, his ears began to work, and the last word all but echoed in the confined space.

With the inrush of sound, he began to understand the chaos going on around them. The horse’s screams, shouting, the crackle of fire, boots on cobbles … somewhere a woman or child sobbing.

Lady Juliette pushed her hair out of her eyes and edged toward the door.

He reached for her waist to draw her out of the carriage. She put her hands on his shoulders, and he easily lifted her and set her feet on the ground. Keeping hold of her, he bent to look into her eyes. Was she steady enough to stand alone?

Her hands gripped his shoulders, and his spanned her waist. As she inhaled, he felt the movement of her ribs. Heat rushed into his ears, and his heart tripped. He had never held a woman in such a way. He wanted to draw her close, to put his arms properly around her and protect her, to usher her to safety away from the pandemonium going on around them.

Brazen thoughts for a mere officer of the court to think about the daughter of an earl.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded quavery, but she stepped back. He let her go, staying close lest she succumb to faintness. With shaking fingers, she loosened her bonnet strings and retrieved her bonnet from where it trailed down her back. Looking around her at the tumult, she let the now-battered straw millinery fall to the street.

“Are you injured?” he asked again. He could see no damage, but he must make certain.

“I do not believe so. Merely shaken.” She gulped in a breath and coughed. Dust sifted from the air, landing on her dark hair and the shoulders of her pelisse. “What happened?” She looked up at him properly for the first time, and her face went pale as milk. She blinked and swayed, and he gripped her again.

“Blood.” The word strangled its way out of her throat. She wavered so much he feared she would collapse, but as he bent to pick her up and place her back in the carriage, she planted her palms on his chest and pushed. “You’re bleeding.” She stared at his mouth, gripping the doorframe of the carriage.