Page 143 of Her Beast

Malcolm pulled himself up, giving a low grunt. He paused at the top and said through clenched jaws, “No, that’s all. You may go, Butkins.”

John turned, saw Julia, and then yelped, flinging up the armload of documents.

Julia pulled her head away from the door and slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

“Good God, Butkins! You scared the hell out of me,” Malcolm growled. “What the hell are you yelping about?”

“Erm, sorry sir.”

Julia heard the sound of papers being shuffled.

“What the devil is wrong with you?” Malcolm asked.

“I thought I saw a spider.”

“A spider,” Malcolm repeated in a flat, disbelieving tone.

Julia choked and snorted behind her hand, backing away from the door, not stopping until she was around the corner, where she could chortle and choke on her laughter.

John barreled around the corner a moment later. He gave her an accusatory glare and hissed, “What are you doing here?”

“Just looking,” she whispered.

He took her arm and marched her down the hallway. “Mr. Barton wouldn’t like to find you watching him in his gymnasium.”

“Oh, I wondered if that’s what that was. He is very strong, isn’t he?”

“Let me escort you back to your room, Miss Harlow,” he said, ignoring her question.

“Thank you, I’m afraid I was quite lost.”

John didn’t look at her as they walked. “How are you this morning?” he finally asked in a subdued voice.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” He was in profile to her, his cheek shockingly red.

Julia bit back a smile when she realized he was concerned for her—or for her virtue, at least. “Are you worried Mr. Barton shocked me last night, John?”

“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes darting about frantically, as if somebody might be listening.

Well, given that the house positively seethed with hidden corridors that was a distinct possibility.

John stopped in front of a door and opened it.

Julia gawked; it was her sitting room.

“Goodness! I didn’t realize I was so close.”

John ushered her inside but left the door open as he pulled the servant cord and turned to her. “You shouldn’t wander around by yourself, Miss Harlow.”

She frowned at his chiding tone. “I’m not a toddler, John.”

“No, I know that. But, er, there are things you shouldn’t see.”

“What sort of things?” she asked, although she could guess.

He frowned. “I’d rather not—”

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