Page 48 of Her Beast

“But I’m the one who has been abducted.”

His lips twitched. “True. But this disagreement has nothing to do with you.”

“ButI’mthe one who has been abducted,” she repeated, dropping her cutlery with a clatter.

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

“You don’t think it’s a bit unfair that I’m the one inconvenienced but I don’t get to know why?”

The moment the wordunfairleft her mouth Julia wanted to kick herself. Could she sound more like a child if she tried?

He chuckled, the tolerant sound beyond grating. “You are young, so perhaps nobody has told you this yet: life isn’t fair, Miss Harlow.”

Julia’s face scalded at his condescending tone. “Am I to know how long I will be kept?”

“As long as it takes.”

“And I’m just to sit here and…waituntil whatever happens?”

“Yes.”

Julia was used to doing what she was told—mostly. She’d learned the hard way what happened when she circumvented authority to get something she wanted.

And yet something about Barton’s calm, utterly arrogant demand rankled beyond bearing.

Julia’s hands closed around her knife and fork and she gripped the heavy, ornate handles so tightly the metal cut into her flesh.

Dideveryonein England believe they had the right to tell her what to do? Her father, Nadine, Netta,UncleCarl, and now this stranger, too?

The fury she’d been feeling since the moment she’d found herself naked began to boil over and her entire body was suddenly hot and flushed.

“Miss Harlow?”

Her head whipped up and she glared at him. “What?”

“I will try to make your stay here as pleasant as possible.” His tone was slightly softer, not necessarily kind, but at least not as dictatorial. “It is my understanding your father sent you to London to punish you because of an unfortunate episode involving your brother’s tutor.”

His words literally knocked the breath from her lungs and it took Julia several attempts before she could speak.

“How—how do you know such a thing?”

“That needn’t concern you. What should—”

One moment Julia held the knife in her hand, the next it was sticking out of his left shoulder.

Julia shrieked, but Mr. Barton didn’t make a sound as he carefully tugged out the blade and set it on the table.

James, who must have been lingering outside in the greenhouse, darted into the dining room. “My goodness, Mr. Barton! Are you—”

Malcolm Barton raised a hand in astopgesture at his frantic servant. “It is fine, only the tip went in. Most of it was caught by my coat, waistcoat, and shirt.”

The footman’s handsome features twisted with concern. “Sir, I can see blood on your coat. You should—”

“Leave us.” He didn’t speak loudly, but his low voice was so cold Julia swore she saw frost.

The younger man left without another word.

“I’m so sorry,” Julia said, beyond mortified at her behavior. “I didn’t mean—”

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