The time spent waiting on the landing while Daphne spoke privately to Lily Lawson proved informative. From Daphne’s calm demeanour, warm handshake and bright smile, it was apparent she bore no malice to the woman who knew her husband far better than she did. The fiery flash of jealousy in Daphne’s eyes when Lily first opened the door had gone.

But Daniel was a cynical man and sensed Lily was not completely honest about the depth of her feelings for Thomas.

Daniel purchased a reel of twine from the chandler but waited until they were out in the alley before putting it in his pocket. Daphne placed her hand in the crook of his arm and guided him to the fire burning in the brazier a little further along the narrow street.

“Lily passed me a note as I left.” Daphne held up her clenched fist. “I should wait until we’re home before reading it but, as Betsy will tell you, I’m not one for patience.”

The secret gesture had not gone unnoticed. “The back alleys are not the place to stop and have a conversation.” Daniel glanced back over his shoulder. “And you’re right. It must wait until we’re home.”

Just saying the word home caused his heart to pound. In an uncharacteristic moment of fancy, he imagined they were strolling back after a night at the theatre. Once there, they would sit by the fire and talk until the early hours, surrender to their wants and desires in bed.

He shook his head to focus, but the loss of his dream left a cavernous hole in his chest.

“Oh, it won’t hurt to take a peek.” Daphne unfolded the paper before he had a chance to caution her again. “The note’s so small it can’t contain that much information.”

Was she always so damn stubborn?

She stared at the scrawled words, six of them from what he could see over her shoulder.

Impatience got the better of him too. “What does it say?”

“Nothing. It’s just a list of names.”

“How many?”

“Three. Three gentlemen.”

No doubt they were the men Lily thought might be the traitor.

“Put it away,” he whispered, warming his hands over the flame as though that was their purpose for stopping. “We’ll discuss the contents once we’re away from here.”

Her curiosity sated, she slipped the note into her reticule.

“We must investigate the men on the list as a matter of urgency,” she said stopping again despite the fact they’d only taken a few steps. “But I’m to travel to Elton Park tomorrow afternoon and will be out of town for two days.”

“Elton Park?” he snapped, resisting the urge to tell her she wasn’t to go anywhere without him. “Why are you only telling me now? What business have you there?”

“Elton Park is Lord Harwood’s residence. Anthony and Sarah are to be married. Please tell me you remember. They insist the event would not have been possible without our intervention in solving their case.” Daphne frowned. “You did receive an invitation?”

“Of course I did.”

Lord Harwood had done his best to persuade him to attend. The letter mentioned muggings on the road, and concerns for Mrs Chambers’ safety if she were to travel alone. It was all a ploy to lure him there, nothing more, and so he’d not bothered to reply.

Why on earth would he want to go to a wedding?

Mingling with the aristocracy was akin to sitting on the muddy banks of the Thames sifting through the rubbish thrown from passing ships. A dirty task he wanted no part of. A complete waste of time and effort. Besides, making idle conversation was not his forte.

“Then you are coming too?” Daphne seemed eager for his company, which in itself should have prompted a change of heart.

“I don’t see how you can go when we have a job to do here,” he said bluntly. The lady took pride in her work and Daniel would use the fact to his advantage. “It is a matter of priority. You are not an heiress with the luxury to do as she pleases. You have responsibilities.”

She turned to face him. “There are more important things in life than work,” she said although appeared somewhat shocked that she’d vocalised the fact. “And I promised Sarah I would attend. Perhaps a couple of days away might help us to gain perspective on the case.”

“A couple of days!” He gave a contemptuous snort. “I’m not going.” Nothing would sway his decision.

She blinked rapidly. “But you must.”

“Why?”

“Well, because they’re our friends.”

“No, they’re not. They were our clients, nothing more.”

She gasped. “How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true,” he shrugged.

Two drunken sailors hobbled past them and knocked on a door further along the alley. A buxom woman wearing a tall white wig and red rouge opened the door and beckoned them inside.

The alley was not the place to partake in a heated conversation. Daniel took Daphne’s arm and guided her past The Mariners Tavern towards the main street. “If you must go to Elton Park, then I shall continue the investigation without you. You can learn of my progress upon your return.”

Daphne stopped and pulled her arm free. “This is my investigation, and you will do nothing without me.”

“Did you not hire me to solve your problem for you?” he said with an air of arrogance. “As no money has changed hands, I may do as I please.” Perhaps he sounded dramatic, but the thought of her travelling alone scared the hell out of him.

Hands braced on her hips, she glared. But the sudden eerie silence proved distracting. He scanned the alley but saw no one, heard nothing.

“Mr Thorpe,” she began as though about to offer a scathing reprimand.

“Hush.”

“No. I will not hush. A heavy-handed approach will not work with me.”

Daniel ignored her. The feeling of dread swamped him now. With keen eyes he scoured the darkness. He heard the click of the hammer, the sucking sound of a ball discharging. A flash of orange and a puff of white smoke confirmed his worst fear.

With no time for an explanation, he pushed Daphne to the ground as the loud bang echoed through the alley. Distant squeals and Daphne’s cries of protest reached him before the ball hit his upper arm.

“Bloody hell!” He dropped to his knees, more from the shock of the impact than from sustaining injury. “You’d better blasted run as I’m coming for you,” he called out into the darkness. Well, he was as soon as he found the strength to stand.

He glanced at Daphne, his heart beating so fiercely he could feel it thumping in his throat. Her face was pale, her eyes wide as she crawled to his side.

“Did he hit you?” She ran her trembling hands over his chest, his face, examining her palm as she searched for evidence of blood. “Tell me, Daniel, where does it hurt?”

“My arm … but it’s just a graze.” He dabbed at the hole in his coat sleeve, relieved to find it was not saturated with blood. Even so, he could feel the damp shirt sticking to his skin. Damn. He knew better than to linger in an alley at night. One way or another, Daphne would be the death of him before the week was out.

“Tell me you’re all right?” Her anguish soon turned to anger, and she jumped to her feet, thrust her hand inside her pelisse and withdrew her pistol. “He’s escaping. Wait here. I’ll be but a moment.”

Daniel staggered to his feet as the woman with pea soup for brains darted back down the alley.

“Daphne! Wait!” Of all the foolish, idiotic things to do. Despite the dull ache in his arm, he chased after her, charging through the group of drunken sots stumbling into The Mariners in a bid to find a safe place to hide. “Move,” he yelled, trying not to punch those who bumped into him and knocked his wound.

With the advantage of large strides, he was able to catch up with her.

“What the devil?” she cried as he scooped her up off the ground with his good arm and held her tight to his chest. “Put me down. He’s getting away.” She kicked her legs, the heel of her boot hitting his shin.

“Damn it, woman. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder.”

“Quick, Daniel. It’s him. It’s my mysterious intruder. I’m sure of it.”

“Let him go, Daphne.” He squinted in the gloom but saw no one of interest. “We’ll not find him here. But rest assured, we’ll not stop looking until we do.” Damn. His arm throbbed, and he needed a drink. “If I don’t tend to the wound, it may become infected.”

At that, she gasped. Daniel released her, letting her slide down his body slowly until her feet touched the cobblestones.

“Forgive me.” She turned to face him, her frantic gaze falling to his arm. “I don’t know what came over me. All I could think of was that my silent stalker had finally made his move. I should not have left you.” She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. “We should go to Lily, see if she can help.”

From the lack of light in the chandler’s up ahead, and the absence of ropes hanging from hooks on the wall, it was evident the fellow had heard the commotion and shut up shop.

“No. We cannot risk hindering her work for the government.”

“Then come. Let me help you to the street, and we can hail a hackney.”

Daniel snorted. “I can walk, Daphne. I’ve been shot in the arm, not the leg. And I’m confident the lead only grazed the skin.” His attention moved past her shoulder, to the few people who’d found the courage to venture out of The Mariners. “As I said before, the alley is not a place where one lingers.”

“A graze to you is probably a gaping hole to someone else.” She took his hand rather than his arm and guided him back through the narrow walkway. Another man may have taken umbrage at being treated like a child, but the caring, intimate gesture roused hope in his chest where he’d dared never hope before. “If you’re hurt, I’d rather you were honest with me.”

“Very well. It might be a little deeper than a graze.” Until he removed his coat, he could not give a more definitive answer.

She sniffed numerous times and cleared her throat.

“It’s all right,” he said as they exited the alley. “There’s no need for tears. I’m not going to die.” It was said in jest, but she failed to appreciate his humour.

“Don’t even joke about such a thing. Of course you’re not going to die.”

“Would you miss me, Daphne?” Now he’d started, he couldn’t help but tease her. Besides, it kept his mind off the pain pounding in his arm. “Would you miss my constant complaining, my constant need to prove this is no work for a woman?”

“Well, I’d not miss that. But I would miss your logical approach and your undeniable courage.” She cast him a sidelong glance and her gaze softened. “I’d miss the warmth in your voice when you lose yourself for a moment and forget to be angry with the world.”

He stopped walking, stood rigid on the pavement and considered what she’d said. She was right. Only in her company did his troubles seem insignificant. Only in her company was he able to glimpse true happiness. Suddenly, the pain in his arm was nothing compared to the ache filling his chest.

The urge to kiss her took hold.

These overwhelming emotions were the reason he stayed away.

“Come, we can’t wait here,” she took his arm, “although the man would be a fool to attempt to shoot at us again. Hopefully, we’ll not have to walk too far to find a hackney.”

The mere mention of the shooter dragged his mind from his fanciful musings. “I think it’s fair to assume we were followed here. Unless the chandler keeps a pistol under his bench and is disgruntled because we didn’t buy more than a length of twine.”

“I told you, someone has been following me about for years.”

“Yes, but during that time you’ve hardly known he was there. And now, in the space of a day, you’ve almost been killed twice.” Daniel considered both events: the accident in Covent Garden, and the shooting in the alley. Was Daphne the target?

Daphne tutted. “When you say it like that it doesn’t make any sense.”

“There is another explanation.” He knew she would overreact when he told her. “The Turners informed me that there’s a price on my head.”

Daphne stopped abruptly. “A price? You mean someone wants you dead?” Her eyes grew so wide they were liable to burst from their sockets. “Someone wants you dead, and you only think to tell me now!”

“Hush. Keep walking,” he said, practically dragging her along the road with him. “Death threats are nothing new to me.”

She mumbled something incoherent. “Why on earth would you walk the streets at night when you know your life is in danger?”

“Daphne, if I panicked every time someone threatened to harm me, I’d never leave my bed.” He sighed. “Besides, you were the intended victim in Covent Garden, and we cannot know for certain who was the target in the alley.”

Daniel cursed. He was missing a vital piece of this puzzle.

They found themselves on Tower Hill and had no difficulty hiring a hackney there. Once safely inside the cab, Daniel tried to use the time to think. But for some reason, the analytical part of his mind could only focus on trying to guess what Daphne was thinking.

A curious hum left her lips but seconds passed before she spoke. “What if the stalker has no preference over which one of us he kills? What if the point is to force us apart?”

“For what purpose?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps together we stand a better chance of finding the truth.”

“I need time to think,” he said, patting his arm gently to check his coat sleeve wasn’t damp with blood. “Can I look at the list of names?”

“Certainly.” She fumbled about in her reticule and handed him the folded note.

He knew two of the men on the list. Marcus Danbury was a friend of Dudley Spencer; the latter was as adept at discovering information as any skilled enquiry agent. To the best of his knowledge, Danbury lived in France and hadn’t set foot on English soil for years.

“I’ve never met any of the men mentioned,” Daphne said.

“Lord Gibson I know of, but not Captain Lewis.” He handed the paper back to her. “Danbury’s not our man. He’s a bit of a rogue by all accounts but loyal and trustworthy.”

“We should not rule him out of the investigation. People change. Circumstances change.”

“You have a valid point,” he agreed. “But we’ll leave Danbury until last. Tomorrow we’ll make some enquiries into Captain Lewis’ background.”

Daphne sat forward. “But I’m going to Witham tomorrow.”

“You’re still going to the wedding after what has just occurred?” Was the thought of travelling alone not terrifying? What if the stalker followed her to Elton Park? Damn it. He would have to go too if he could not persuade her otherwise.

“I must.”

“What about my injury?” He’d play the wounded soldier if he thought she might reconsider.

“But you said it was just a graze.”

“There’s too much to do here.” Daniel crossed his arms in defiance, the wound throbbing just to aggravate him some more.

“Time out of town might help give us a new perspective on the case.” Daphne smiled at him sweetly. Oh, this lady was skilled in manipulation. “Time in the country might rejuvenate our spirits.”

Two days and nights spent alone with her would leave him fit for Bedlam. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep his rampant thoughts to himself. But what choice did he have?

“Are you certain I cannot persuade you to stay?” he said, clutching the last thread of hope.

“I made a promise, Daniel. But I understand if you want to remain here.”

“No,” he groaned. “I shall accompany you to Elton Park.”

Her emerald-green eyes brightened. “You will? It will mean an overnight stay in a coaching inn and then a night mingling with the aristocracy.”

“I can hardly contain my excitement.” Was there anything he wouldn’t do for this woman?

“Excellent.” She clapped her hands together. “I hired a post-chaise, but we can meet at the coaching inn.”

Did she honestly think he would allow her to travel in one of those ramshackle vehicles? “We’ll travel in my carriage.”

“But I’ve already paid Mr Butteridge. He insists on payment in advance. Only last month, he took a man as far as Stratford and the blighter absconded when they stopped to change the horses.”

“Butteridge can keep the money.” Daniel smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll not charge you to ride with me.”

“Perhaps I should charge you for the pleasure,” she countered playfully.

“And I would gladly pay.”

A blush touched her cheeks. She struggled to hold his gaze and glanced absently out of the window. “We’ve just turned into New Bond Street.”

Good. The conversation had served as a distraction, but he was eager to see the extent of the damage to his arm.

The cab rattled to a halt outside the modiste shop. Daphne alighted first and pulled the key from her reticule while Daniel paid the driver.

“Betsy can heat some water while I look at your wound,” she said as they entered the shop. Noting a flicker of light from the parlour she called out to the modiste. “Betsy! Betsy!” Mild panic infused her tone. “Mr Bostock, are you here?”

Both people burst from the parlour as though the drapes had caught fire, although they looked guilty rather than concerned.

“What is it?” Betsy patted her golden locks and brushed the creases from her dress as she walked over to Daphne. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Daniel … I mean Mr Thorpe. Don’t worry. He’s fine. But he’s been shot.”

“Shot!” Bostock boomed. “Bloody hell!” The man turned to the ladies. “Forgive a fellow for cursing.” Two large steps and Bostock was at Daniel’s side, his frantic gaze searching for evidence of the injury.

“It’s my right arm,” Daniel said gesturing to the tear in his coat. “But it’s nothing serious. Just a graze I suspect, but find Murphy and take me home.”

“Home?” Bostock frowned. “To Rainham Hall?”

“No,” Daniel snapped. If only Bostock would engage his brain before speaking. “Take me to the house on Church Street.”

“There’s no need to leave.” Daphne straightened. “I can tend to the wound here.”

“No.” To feel her warm hands on his bare skin would be the end of him. Besides, there was a chance it needed a stitch or two, and he’d not put her through the agony of doing that. “Bostock will see to it.”

Daphne placed her hands on her hips in defiance. “I have seen a man’s bare chest before if that’s what concerns you. Granted, it may not have been one so large and impressive but—”

“Bostock knows what he’s doing, and I need a change of clothes. If we’re to go to Witham, there are some matters I need to attend to.”

While his explanation appeased her somewhat, the two lines were still prominent between her brows. “But how will I know if everything is all right?”

“Bostock will return within the hour.” After what had occurred in Covent Garden and the alley near the docks, Daniel could not leave her without protection. “And he’ll stay here with you until I return tomorrow.”

Betsy’s beaming smile meant she was either glad to have Bostock for company, or glad to be rid of him.

Daphne sighed. “Very well. We must leave at noon.” She glanced at his arm. “Now go quickly. Heaven knows the extent of the damage beneath that coat.”

“Lock the door behind us and do not open it until Bostock returns.” It crossed his mind to kiss her cheek, to do something to ease the sudden ache in his chest caused by his impending departure. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his greatcoat and handed her the pistol. “An extra precaution. Perhaps use the time to teach Betsy how to wield a weapon.”