He inwardly scowled with the ferocity of a baited bear. He was noticing too much about her, and far too keenly. The turn of her countenance. The excellence of her bosom. The softness of the underside of her arm, by heaven! And those perfections didn’t begin to touch the courage she’d exhibited or the cleverness of her mind—allurements against which he had even less defense.

She needed to go before he said something—or worse, did something—stupid.

Stalking to the door of the hackney, he jerked it open. “Brook Street,” he said to the jarvey. And then to Euphemia: “Miss Flite?”

At length, she grudgingly obeyed him. “I’d planned to leave in any event, once I’d questioned the men at the gin shop. I must go home and change. I’m expecting callers at one.”

Gabriel had no doubt she was. It didn’t make the statement any more pleasant to hear. He offered his hand to help her into the cab.

She ignored it. Picking up her little dog, she climbed in all on her own and sat down.

Gabriel shut the door after her. He didn’t back away immediately. The cab’s window was down, her face mere inches from his.

She set a hand at the open window, fingers curling over the top of the door. “That’s not to say I’m finished with my inquiries.”

“As I recall. You’re just getting started. But if you take my advice, you’ll refrain from starting anything here. The slums are no place for a lady.”

“If that’s the case, will you do me the favor of asking your acquaintances in Church Street and Devil’s Acre about Grace?”

“I shall,” he said.

“How will I know if you discover anything?”

“I’ll tell you myself.”

“I can’t think when. We’re not likely to see each other again anytime soon.”

“Sooner than you might imagine,” he said, thinking of the invitation he’d received to Compton’s musicale. “Now, if you will be so good? I have work to do.”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “Good luck with your endeavors, Gabriel.”

“I’d wish you the same, Euphemia, if I had any idea what the devil you were up to.”

She smiled at that. It wasn’t the catlike smile he’d seen at Compton’s or the hint of a smug smile she’d given Ollie at Mother Comfort’s. It was a real smile, both at her mouth and in her eyes. Seeing it, the heat in Gabriel’s midsection roared into a furious blaze.

He impulsively caught her hand through the cab’s open window. Raising it to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the curve of her kid-gloved knuckles. Her eyes widened, her fingers tightening on his in a startled clasp.

Franc instantly shot forward, baring his teeth at Gabriel.