“You ‘mow him?” Juliet demanded, her words heavily slurred with the pain in her mouth.
Peter shook his head lightly as if remembering himself. “Unfortunately,” he answered. “Are you all right? Your chin is bleeding.”
“I bih my hung.” She could taste the blood in her mouth as well.
“I see. Then I will have to get your side of the story in the morning. I’m afraid I’m not very fluent in gibberish.”
“You’re asking if she’s all right?” the man Robin exclaimed, but his outrage was diminished by Caudwell twisting one arm behind his back. “That little harlot tried to kill me!”
Jule stiffened. “I ‘in’n ‘ry hoo ‘ill him!” she shouted as best she could. “Be’shies,” she directed a finger at him, “he’sh—”
“Master Robert!” Mrs. Glasgow gasped at the door.
“Yesh! He—wai’, no. Wha?”
Peter grimaced as he helped Juliet up. “Juliet, this man, and that I call him only with other company present, is my older brother Robert Murlock.”
Jule’s eyes widened and she whipped her head between the two men. First she recognized him as the older version of the boy in the photographs and then saw some of the blood relation between them in the stature and the chin.
“Buh…Pe’er, he…he’sh…,” she tried to stutter out, but no longer knew how to say it.
Peter gave her a small push towards Mrs. Glasgow. “Some ice for Juliet, if you please, Mrs. Glasgow. The blow to her tongue has made her more unintelligible than usual, and,” his tone took on a bitter edge, “I have family matters to address.”
Juliet glanced over shoulder at Peter as Mrs. Glasgow ushered her away. She knew she had to tell him, but how was she going to say that his brother was his enemy?
