“It is entirely too dangerous, Juliet.” Lord Barksdale shook his chestnut head. “The blackguard in the alley saw your face. He may even have recognized you. Identifying the man to the Foreign Office is ill advised.” Juliet rolled her eyes and sighed with tolerable impatience. “Real Robert, if I did not recognize him then it is highly probable that he did not recognize me.” The young Lord Barksdale continued stalking in front of the settee on which she sat as if he were her infallible guardian. “The murderer could know of you, darling. You must admit that your father travels in rather seedy circles.” Juliet felt a flash of irritation. Lord Pervill was a bastard, to be sure, but she and her mother were the only persons allowed to label him as such. “You’re over rot,” Juliet said, rising. She walked to the bell pull, sure that a cup of tea would do the agitated young lord some good.
