Page 117 of Her Beast

“Go,” he growled.

“I won’t change my mind, you know—you can’t bully me into it.”

His gaze was flat and shuttered. “What Icando is keep you from entering this corridor again. From now on, you will find it locked.”

Julia glared up at him, struggling to hide her pain. “If you think that will stop me from seeing you then you are not as clever as you think.” She stormed from the room, momentarily triumphant at getting the last word.

Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t even last until Julia reached her room.

Chapter 25

The evening before had been so traumatic that Julia had forgotten today was Christmas, not that she had anything to celebrate or anyone to celebrate it with.

All she could think about was Malcolm and the cold look he’d given her right before he’d ordered her out of his study as if he never wanted to see her again.

His lie had been pitiful. Where in the world would he be going at two-thirty on Christmas morning?

Was he even going to come back? Or would he just leave his own house rather than face her again?

The door opened to her chambers and Kemp entered for the second time that day.

Julia forced a smile onto her face. “Happy Christmas, Kemp.”

“Happy Christmas to you too, Miss Julia. Are you ready to go to breakfast yet?”

Kemp had come at her usual time and Julia had sent her away—that had been hours ago—because what was the point of getting out of bed? So she could eat a lonely breakfast? And then a lonely dinner?

Julia opened her mouth to send Kemp away but the maid disappeared into her dressing room. “Do you know what you’d like to wear today?” she called out cheerily.

Julia didn’t care what she wore.

“Miss Julia?”

Her voice was so pleasant and hopeful that Julia grudgingly left her warm bed and slipped on her robe. “The dark green wool, please.”

“Lovely choice,” was Kemp’s muffled reply.

“It’s too late for breakfast. I won’t bother with anything to eat.”

Kemp emerged bearing the gown, her forehead puckered. “Er, but it is Christmas.”

Julia opened her mouth to ask what that had to do with anything, but Kemp said, “And Cook has made something rather special. Norris, Mr. Butkins, and I thought we would join you.”

“You will?” she asked in a high-pitched, too-emotional voice that made Kemp look vaguely uncomfortable.

“Of course we will, it is Christmas.”

Julia threw her arms around the older woman and squeezed hard enough to make her grunt. “Oh, how did you know I needed that today, Kemp?” she choked back her sob at the last minute, but her chest still shook with it.

Kemp patted her shoulder. “There now, it’s Christmas,” she murmured, sounding flustered. “Don’t cry, Miss Julia.”

“No, I’m not,” Julia lied, wiping away a few stray tears before releasing poor Kemp, whose normally pale face was flushed and very pretty. It suddenly occurred to Julia that the maid was not as old as she’d originally thought. The combination of stern clothing and her sober demeanor made her seem far older.

“Are you sure, Kemp? You must have a family you’d rather be with today. Perhaps somebody… special.”

Kemp gave an uncharacteristically nervous laugh. “There is nobody special, Miss Julia. And I have no family nearby. You’ll have to be my family today.”

“I’d be honored.”

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