“I understand why Daniel is so fascinated by you, Mrs. Holloway.” His voice was chillingly quiet. “You reach into a person and tear things forth he doesn’t wish to acknowledge.” Mr. Fielding stepped closer to me, perhaps a threatening step, but I held my ground. “Nell did not know me. She knew a lie, and that lie is very likely why she died. So you cannot placate me by invoking her name.”

I studied him a long moment, believing I knew what was inside him. I had no wish to tear it away, whatever he claimed.

“I am sorry,” I said softly.

Mr. Fielding made a noise like a growl. He came at me, but it was only to pass me on the way to the door. “For God’s sake, McAdam, where did you find this woman? And why the devil did you push her at me?”

Mr. Fielding threw open the door and banged his way into the stairwell, not bothering to slam the door behind him.

Daniel fetched his cap as well as the one Mr. Fielding had left behind. “I’d better go after him. In this mood, he’ll pick a fight with a stevedore or a prizefighter and end up on a surgeon’s table.”

“I agree,” I said. “He needs looking after.”

Daniel paused to press a kiss to my cheek. “Bless you, Kat.”

He was past me and out the door, heading to the stairs. I followed, leaning on the carved newel post at the top of the staircase. “Daniel.”

Halfway down the flight, Daniel looked back at me in inquiry.

“Miss Townsend told me about Paris.”

“Ah.” Daniel’s face went through several transformations before he answered. “That both relieves and alarms me. Once I find my brother and nail him somewhere, I will speak to you.”

“I will have the kettle on,” I promised.

This earned me a grin, then Daniel bolted down the stairs and was gone.

“Good heavens.” Mr. Thanos had joined me in the hall. “A cup of tea does sound jolly. I’ll have my landlady bring us a pot, then I think you and I should sit very quietly for a time. Daniel and his brother are not easy on the nerves.”

“Quite.” I steered him inside. “You sit comfortably. I’ll fetch the tea, and then we’ll have a friendly chat.”

I’d tell him about everything Lady Cynthia had said and done since he’d last seen her, which might assuage some of the moroseness I read in him.

*   *   *

Miss Townsend did not return the next day for more sketching. I scarcely noticed she wasn’t there—she always sat so quietly—until I turned to ask her a question and saw she’d not arrived.