Dust and dirt streaked his military uniform and dulled the medals on his chest. His jaw set, he stood with legs braced, erect and stiff, as was his wont, and this time his expression brooked no argument.

“Come, Lady Juliette.” He held out his hand. “It is dangerous for you here.”

She had a better idea than he of the dangers lurking in this inn, but she must refuse. Before she formed the words to restate her argument against being removed, a wail from the taproom grabbed her attention. Her heart shot into her throat as she recognized the voice. Thrusting her hand into her pocket to cover the pistol, she ran past the duke, bumping him out of the way in her haste but not stopping to apologize. Agatha might be in danger.

“What is it?”

Viscount Coatsworth caught Agatha as she fainted, and a sinking feeling invaded Juliette’s middle.

Daniel Swann stood silhouetted in the doorway. His broad shoulders blocked out much of the light, and when he stepped inside, sweeping his hat from his head, his clothes and face were streaked with soot and dust.

His eyes met Juliette’s, and he gave a small shake of his head.

How she came to stand before him, she didn’t know, but she looked up into his face. “Daniel? What happened?”

“Not yet. We must get Miss Montgomery out of here.” The grim set of his mouth told her the news was bad.

“That is what I have been trying to do.” Heinrich helped the viscount lower Agatha onto a high-backed bench along the wall. “What you should have done from the outset, Herr Swann, instead of leaving them in the street.”

Daniel’s mouth tightened at his chastisement, and Juliette whirled on Heinrich. “That is unfair. Lives were in danger, and he had to go help.”

“Don’t.” Daniel placed his hand on her arm, then glanced down at the pistol in her hand. His brows rose, and she tucked the gun back into her pocket, highly aware of his touch and chiding herself for it.

Neither the time nor the place, remember? She must tend to Agatha.

Her friend showed no sign of coming out of her faint even as the viscount chafed her hands. If only the Dowager Duchess of Haverly were here, she would have sal volatile to shove under Agatha’s nose. A proper dowager would never be without her smelling salts.

Daniel took Juliette’s elbow and drew her outside into the street.

Heinrich came too, brows down in contrition. “I am sorry, Daniel.” He inclined his head. “I should not have upbraided you. You did what you had to do. But we should take the ladies out of here with all haste.”

“Where is Mr. Montgomery? Is he wounded?” Juliette asked.