Page 144 of Her Beast

“I know about the women.”

“W-women?” he blurted.

Julia gave an exasperated sigh. “The prostitutes—Maisie and the other one.”

“Good Lord! But—but how?”

“What does it matter? Mr. Barton told me he sent her away.” Julia narrowed her eyes. “Did he or was he lying to me?”

“No, no, he wasn’t lying. She is gone.” He grimaced when he realized what he’d said. “I shouldn’t have told you that—andyoushouldn’t ask me such things because my first loyalty is to Mr. Barton.”

Julia brushed aside his scold. “Does he go to that room—the gymnasium—often.”

John gave her an exasperated look.

“What?”

“I just told you I can’t answer questions about him—ah, hello Mrs. Kemp.” His shoulders sagged with relief when the maid appeared in the open doorway. “I had better go, now.”

“Must you? We were having such an interesting andinformativetalk,” Julia teased.

He hurried out of the room as if he had vicious predators on his heels and Julia couldn’t help laughing.

Kemp pursed her lips, but Julia knew the older woman was amused. “You shouldn’t tease him, Miss Julia.”

“I know, but I can’t help it; he blushes easier than I do.”

“Let’s get you into the bath,” Kemp replied.

If Kemp thought any differently about Julia for spending the night with her employer, she didn’t show it.

“Which gown shall I set out for you today?” Kemp asked as Julia lounged in the enormous bathtub a short time later.

“The green velvet,” Julia said. “And I’ll need my painting smock.”

“Shall I have James bring your paints and easel out to the greenhouse?”

Julia thought about the picture she wanted to paint and smiled. “No, I shall paint in my sitting room.” This was a painting she would need to keep private—as the subject was averyprivate man.

Chapter 30

Malcolm told himself, yet again, that he was doing the right thing.

Somebody needed to end this madness and it needed to behim.

Nothing good could come of dallying with Julia, and he was losing control, something he never ever did.

It was better for both of them that he’d left Julia alone to sleep last night before he could do something foolish and irreparable.

Like fuck her.

If he’d stayed it would have been a goddamned catastrophe.

It would have been glorious.

Well, he couldn’t disagree, even though the thought was less than helpful considering that he was trying to take the moral high ground rather than utterly debauch her.

And what you did to her last night was the high ground?

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