She cleared her throat and eased back, dropping her hands limply, edging away until her shoulders touched the door of the chandler’s shop.

Heat pooled in his neck and traveled to his face. He hoped the darkness hid the flush.

What temerity. Utter madness.

He had kissed Lady Juliette Thorndike.

And he wanted to kiss her again.

What must she think of him? She should probably slap his face, or possibly draw whatever weapon she carried on her person and defend herself from his bold advances.

To his amazement, she did neither. Instead, she put her hands on his shoulders again, stood on tiptoe to peek past his ear, and whispered, “I think he’s gone.”

She sounded quite normal. Had the kiss not affected her the same way?

Of course not, you muttonhead. Why should a kiss from a Bow Street detective, a man she knew was a by-blow, who didn’t even know who fathered him, thrill her in any way? She had to know, to believe, the kiss had only been part of their cover, to avoid detection, and she’d handled it in a professional way. He was the idiot who still felt wobbly about the knee joints.

Had Heinrich von Lowe kissed her? Had she welcomed his kiss with romantic thoughts of falling in love with the German duke?

That notion was like a bucket of cold water in his face.

“Hsst.”

Juliette grimaced, and he slowly turned away from her to face the street. Had Ed returned?

“If you two are finished hiding in doorways, it’s best we get away. The area is crawling with constables and watchmen.”

Chapter 13

“HOW CAN ALL OF THEM so far have alibis for the murder?” Daniel asked. He had raced home after parting from Sir Bertrand and Lady Juliette, changed his clothes, and feigned surprise when one of the office boys knocked on his door to tell him Sir Michael had ordered him to report to the magistrate’s court.

Ed shrugged, yawning. Dawn was still a couple of hours away, and no one at Bow Street had gotten any sleep. The interrogation rooms were full, the corridor packed with custodies chased down and brought in last night.

Owen entered with a tea tray. He wove his way around the desks, as nimble as an acrobat, arriving at Daniel’s desk in the corner and setting the tray down with panache. “It’s a proper crush in here. Never saw the place so busy.” He sported a black eye, worn proudly, as he had been called upon to help apprehend the rallygoers last night.

“The gathering wasn’t even in our jurisdiction. Why are they all here?” Daniel asked.