Page 54 of Her Beast

“It’s fine, Miss.”

“No, it’s not. It’s rude.”

Kemp didn’t deserve her tantrum; she was just a servant, doing her job. She was kind, thoughtful, and worked hard to please Julia.

Thanks to Kemp, Julia had her favorite foods three meals a day and at tea, the finest painting supplies—undeserved given that she was a mediocre painter at best—the most beautiful piano she had ever played, which was truly undeserved as she was horrific pianist—more books than she’d read in a year, a ridiculous amount of clothing, and anything else that crossed her mind.

Well, except the poodle.

Julia had been tempted to fill her room with dogs, parrots, and monkeys—just to show the arrogant Mr. Barton—but then she’d thought about the poor animals that she’d have to leave behind when he released her. Nadine said indoor animals were filthy and disgusting and Julia suspected Sebastian held a similar opinion on anything except dogs.

Julia really had very few complaints about her situation. In fact, other than a menagerie, she had everything except her freedom.

Oh, and companionship.

“I’ll ask Mr. Barton’s secretary about dinner, miss. He will be the one who can tell me if the master is free for dinner.”

“Who is his secretary? Does he live here?” Julia blurted before she could stop herself. “I know, I know,” she said before Kemp could speak. “You can’t tell me.”

“Those are questions you should ask Mr. Barton, Miss Harlow.”

“Of course, I know that. It’s just”—she broke off and chewed her lip.

Kemp looked genuinely concerned. “What is it, Miss Harlow?”

It was the other woman’s kindness that shattered Julia’s resolve to be strong. “I’m lonely.” Her face scalded at the childish confession, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Kemp hesitated a long moment, and then surprised Julia by saying, “Perhaps I might join you while I do my mending—if you do not mind?”

Julia was touched by her offer. “That would be lovely. Perhaps I could help? I’m a competent needlewoman, if not exactly inspired.”

“I would appreciate that. First, let me send somebody with your question about dinner, and then I will come back and sit for a while.”

Julia nodded, not trusting herself to speak without getting teary. “Thank you.”

Once Kemp left, Julia sagged back against her pillows. A rational person would have been frightened and worried rather than bored, lonely, and actively seeking her captor’s company. She knew that being lonely was a sign of weakness, but she couldn’t help it. She’d spoken to nobody besides Kemp and two footmen for almost a week. When she’d tried to strike up a conversation with Mr. Bobbitt, the gardener who maintained the greenhouse, he’d looked terrified and fled, almost as if he’d been warned away from her.

Yes, she had every material item she could imagine, but Julia had discovered something important over the last week: lovely things were far less exciting when there was nobody to share them with.

And while it was wonderful to spend one’s afternoons sipping lemonade and reading in the magical rooftop greenhouse, the enjoyment palled when one was all alone.

Julia chewed her lip, regretting that she’d not sent a message of formal apology about the knife incident. Yes, Mr. Bartonhadabducted her, but he’d not hurt her—not even after she’d stabbed him.

For the first few days she’d worried he’d punish her for her actions, or perhaps try to torture answers from her—not that she actually knew anything of value.

Instead, he’d justignoredher!

Perhaps he’d done so because the knife had hurt him more than he’d said? Or what if she’d damaged his pride by gawking at his masked face in such a discourteous manner?

Julia sighed. Barton had been kind—other than the abduction itself, of course—and she had repaid him by stabbing him.

She hated to admit it, but it frightened her how much she hoped Mr. Barton would agree to share a meal with her.

A person couldn’tdieof loneliness, could they?

∞∞∞

“Yes, what is it?” Malcolm called out irritably at the knock on his door.

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