Page 65 of Her Beast

“She died.”

Her pale cheeks darkened at his abrupt response. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

“It was a long time ago.” He hesitated, and then did something exceptional: he spoke the dreaded words aloud. “She died in the fire fifteen years ago.”

She nodded, clearly wrestling with herself over something.

“Yes?” he prodded.

“You’ve never wanted to remarry, to share all this”—she made a gesture that encompassed everything around them—“with some fortunate lady?”

“Aren’t these rather personal questions to ask a mere acquaintance?”

She huffed. “You asked me about marriage, first.”

“Touché,” he said.

“Besides,” she cut him an arch look, “I wasn’t aware there was a particular etiquette for how one should speak to their captor.”

Malcolm grinned at her “I’ll tell you what—I’ll answer a question for a question.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means you can ask meanythingand I’ll answer you. And I get to do the same.”

“You’d even tell me what my father did to make you so angry?”

“Anything,” he repeated, putting faith in his ability to judge character.

Her brow furrowed more deeply the longer she stared at him. “It occurs to me,” she finally said, “that perhaps I don’t wish to know.”

Julia Harlow was no fool, but then he’d known that already. Nobody in their right mind should want to meddle in a dispute that was serious enough to kidnap somebody about.

“Do you have any children?” she asked.

Nowthatquestion did surprise him.

But it was a subject he wanted to discuss even less than the question about her father.

“No,” he answered shortly. “My turn. Was it your choice to marry Basingstoke?”

She pondered his question before answering. “It isn’tnotmy choice.”

Malcolm tried to wrap his mind around her answer and failed. “I don’t take your meaning.”

“If you are asking me if I’m in love with him, the answer is no. In fact, I don’t even like him—”

Malcolm snorted.

“However,” she said, giving him a quelling look, “he will one day be a duke.”

Malcolm snorted again. “One of only twenty-five.”

“Scoff all you like, but you are a man of the world. Youknowwhat position in society I will enjoy as his duchess.”

Malcolm could have told her about the only position that interested him when it came to her, but it would be like taunting a kitten.

“So, you are marrying him for his status, then?” He cocked his head. “Why do I not believe you? And remember you vowed to tell the truth.”

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