Barney steered Ross towards St. James’ Park, hoping that green space away from the crowded streets would convey his friendly intentions and give them a semblance of privacy. Even when they reached more leafy environs, Ross did not unbend. His gaze stayed firmly ahead and his cheeks, still smooth by late afternoon, were pale.

Once they were on a less populous path Barney began tentatively.

“It must have been a bit of a shock to come across me in the bank this morning. I assure you that it was pure coincidence. I only entered the bank to withdraw funds. It was a complete surprise to come across you.”

At least Ross was listening and showed no signs of fleeing. Bolstered, Barney continued, “Although seeing you was unexpected, it was fortuitous. I had hoped to bump into you, I mean Rose, in the tavern where we met, without any luck. If I hadn’t found you today, I was even considering braving the Dean Street house over the next few days.”

Ross still looked straight ahead, but his shoulders dropped a few notches at that declaration.

“Believe me,” Barney insisted, “I had no idea that you were employed at Coutts. If I had been aware, I wouldn’t have dreamed of accosting you at your place of work.”

They walked amongst the greenery in silence while Ross digested Barney’s attempt at reassurance. Covertly, Barney examined the subtle but distinct differences between Ross and Rose. In male apparel, Ross was on the short side, his features even but unremarkable, showing none of Rose’s spirit. That distinguishing factor was reflected in his drab office wear, his tamed curls appearing more brown than red and his hands bearing recent ink stains from his daily labours.

“I thought you’d followed me,” Ross said very quietly.

“Good God, no. You have my word on that. I couldn’t find you in Covent Garden so it would never have occurred to me to search for you on the Strand.”

The tension was easing from Ross’ slight frame. Encouraged, Barney said, “I’m sorry if I gave you a fright, but I’m glad I’ve caught you now so I could explain and ease any concerns you might have. I mean you no ill will.”

Ross risked a sideways glance at Barney as he continued, “I have to admit that I very much wanted to see you again.” He was rewarded by a flicker of warmth in those wary brown eyes, a glimpse of Rose peeping through.

“You can always leave a note in Soho with Grace for Rose any time. She’ll make sure it’s delivered safely.”

Distracted by the completely unfitting name for the dragon of the doorway, Barney missed the distinction that Ross had drawn between himself and Rose.

“Now I have found you again, I don’t want to let you go too soon. If you have some time to spare, perhaps we could repair to Dean Street together. I don’t mind waiting for you to don your skirts,” he added with what he hoped was roguish charm, “Since that seems to entertain and titillate us both.”

Ross whirled around to face Barney, his features tight with anger. With his chin raised and eyes sparkling hotly with indignation, he bore no resemblance to the timid clerk Barney had accosted outside the bank.

“How dare you. I’m not one of your actresses to amuse you with a change of costume to incite your lust,” he hissed. “Or some toy to array in a gown for the sole purpose of your entertainment. In future, I request you treat me and Rose with greater respect. If you’ll excuse me, sir.”

Ross gave a stiff bow and stalked away, the picture of affronted dignity. Barney stared after him, wondering how the interview could have gone so disastrously wrong.