The jarvey leaned over and clasped Daniel’s hand firmly. “Couldn’t leave you down there, could I? Wouldn’t be the Christian thing to do.”

Daniel nodded, lowering his arm and trying not to wince. This morning he was, if anything, even more sore. Additional bruises had developed overnight, and everything ached. He gave Cadogan the destination and climbed aboard like an octogenarian.

He leaned back against the squabs, considering how he might properly thank Cadogan for saving his life. When he had the time, he would have to rectify that situation.

The jarvey had him at the law office with a few minutes to spare, but as Daniel was led down the hallway, the clerk did not stop at any individual solicitor’s office. Instead, they went to the far end of the passageway, and he was shown into a large room with a long table. Tall-backed leather chairs flanked the table, and some were occupied.

All three of the partners had seats, as well as the Duke of Haverly, who barely glanced up at Daniel, giving the smallest nod. He wore a grim expression, and Daniel’s skin prickled.

Another man sat in a chair along the wall, his hat in his lap. He looked familiar to Daniel, and it took him a moment to put a name to the face. Mr. Cooper, the elderly valet at Lockewood, the Earl of Rotherhide’s house.

Odd. Daniel could not think why he had been summoned to a meeting that included a valet and the head of British intelligence.

The old man’s mouth opened, and his hand trembled as he raised it to his cheek. He studied Daniel as if he couldn’t place him either.

Daniel shrugged and rounded the table to see two women seated in the high-backed chairs. The first one he didn’t know, but the second stopped him cold.

Mrs. Dunstan.

Housekeeper to the Thorndikes.

Agent for the Crown.

His estranged mother.

The familiar feelings of aching loneliness and abandonment that he had carried with him since the moment he had been thrown out of her house swamped him, but he thrust it away. He was no longer that scared, helpless little boy. He was a man. A man with means, skills, and a future. He no longer answered to a mysterious patron, nor the lawyers who served him, and he would not be made to feel like a discarded child.

What was she doing here? She glanced up at him, her eyes stricken, before looking away. Why did he feel most in the room knew something he did not?

“Do sit down, Mr. Swann. Now that you’re here, we can get started.” Mr. Moody flicked his fingers toward an empty chair.

Mr. Franks mopped his brow with a handkerchief, and Mr. Coles nodded to the clerk to close the door.