But from the moment of her arrival on home soil just over a month ago, it had been one crisis and revelation after another, all preventing her from experiencing her debut Season in the bosom of her family as she had wished. With her parents on the Continent for an indeterminate amount of time, she was left to wait and fill the hours.

And mope.

The arrival of Mr. Swann was a welcome reprieve from her thoughts. He had been left cooling his heels by the front door.

“I apologize. You should have been shown to the drawing room.” She stopped on the bottom step, her hand on the newel post.

“I haven’t time. I understand Miss Montgomery is receiving mourning guests this afternoon. I hoped to see her before they arrive and that you would accompany me. I have questions Miss Montgomery may find difficult or troubling to answer, and if you are there, you can lend her support.”

Juliette nodded. “Of course. I planned to attend the reception, but I can go with you now. Let me inform Mrs. Dunstan and gather my maid to come along.”

At mention of the housekeeper, Daniel flinched, and his mouth grew hard. Why did he seem to have such dislike for the woman? Juliette found her to be pleasant and efficient, a trusted confidant of her mother’s. But the few times she had seen Daniel and Mrs. Dunstan together, he was stiff and formal, she kept her head bowed, and the pair of them avoided looking at each other. So odd, because he treated no other staff with such cold indifference.

“Is Sir Bertrand at home?” the detective asked.

“He is not. I expect him for dinner, but you know my uncle. His plans are quite … fluid.” At least Daniel now knew the secrets her family held, their other lives behind the front. He had recently joined the ranks of employees of the Crown, so she didn’t have to guard every word she said as she did with others. “We will be home before he returns, I’m sure.”

Juliette tried not to let her relief show. If Uncle Bertie were home, he might forbid her to go to Agatha while Daniel questioned her. He had been quite firm that Juliette was to stay out of the investigation. But Bertie could not fault her if she was going at the behest of the detective and merely to support her friend through a terrible time, could he?

Bundled and bonneted, her maid in tow, Juliette nodded to the jarvey, Mr. Cadogan, before stepping into the carriage. He tipped his hat and gave her a cheeky grin. “Good day, milady.”

“How are Sprite and Lola today, Mr. Cadogan?”

“Fine and fit, milady. Thank you for asking.” He beamed at his horses, his pride and joy.