Page 46 of Her Beast

“Good afternoon, Miss Harlow.”

Julia spun clumsily on her high-heeled evening slippers.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” a handsome young man dressed in elegant livery said. “I’m James. If you’ll step this way, I’ll show you to the dining room.”

He led her down the tree lined path toward another larger area like the one she’d just left.

French doors off to one side opened to what appeared to be a dining pavilion. An enormous man stood beside a table that was long enough to seat eight or ten people. He was dressed all in black—even his hands were gloved in black—and half his face was concealed by a black mask that looked to be closely contoured to his face.

He was… striking and his dramatic appearance added to the sense of unreality.

His mouth flexed into a crooked, mocking smile, making Julia realize that she’d been staring. “Please, come in, Miss Harlow.”

Julia’s feet propelled her forward as her eyes struggled to take everything in—the man, the elegant room, the magnificent foliage she was passing through.

She hovered on the threshold, glancing from the table—at which two places had been set, one at the head and one at the foot—and then back at the unusual man standing before her.

He gestured to the table. “Won’t you have a seat?”

Julia suddenly noticed her wide-eyed reflection in the large mirror on the wall behind Mr. Barton.

Shame flooded her at her gauche behavior. But right on the heels of that shame was anger; why should she care if her reaction was rude? The man hadabductedher.

“Who are you?” She crossed her arms and stayed exactly where she was.

He bowed. “Malcolm Edward Barton at your service.”

Julia struggled to place the name. “Malcolm Barton? As in Barton’s Emporium?”

“The very same. Come, won’t you sit and eat. I know you must be hungry—you’ve been asleep for at least ten hours.”

His accent was like her father’s—that of a man who was trying to ape his social betters.

Julia had always thought it made her father sound desperate. From this man, however, the careful, cit accent sounded more like a foreign language, something he’d learned in order to converse with the natives, the natives in this case being the aristocracy.

“You can be angry with me far more effectively with a full belly,” he said in a cajoling tone when Julia continued to stand and glare.

His pale blue eye twinkled with amusement, which only made her angrier.

What youshouldbe feeling is fear,a voice whispered in her head.

Julia knew that was good advice, but it was difficult to be afraid when one was being treated like royalty.

And then there was the fact that she was so hungry she could barely think logically.

“Fine,” she snapped, moving toward the foot of the table.

He took three long slides, arriving before her and pulling out her chair.

Julia had seen that he was tall but hadn’t realized justhowtall until she was standing beside him. Carl was the tallest man she’d ever met, but he was slope-shouldered and a bit doughy. Mr. Barton was like a wall that moved and his massive shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and tight, compact hips, judging by the fit of his coat.

Julia had to crane her neck to look up, but she made herself do it, purposely staring at the side of his face covered by the eerie black leather mask, forcing herself to be bold, no matter how discourteous such gawking might be

The maskwaseerie but mainly because there was no opening for his eye. It covered part of his nose but exposed his mouth, the left corner of which was puckered, the skin darker pink and crepey. It covered the left side of his skull, with only a small hole over his ear.

The part of his face that she could see was handsome, his features chiseled and exceedingly masculine. His wavy black hair was unusually long, hanging almost to his shoulder on the right side and was shot through with thick strands of silver The way the mask fit told her he had little or no hair on his left side.

His heavy-lidded eye was the coldest shade of blue Julia had ever encountered and was fringed with spiky black lashes.

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