Page 90 of Her Beast

“Miss.” Parker bowed and then strode ahead, a huge ring of keys jingling as he unlocked a plain wooden door—not one of the main store doors—and then opened it.

Julia gasped at the frigid air. “Goodness! It’s my first time outside in…” she paused, trying to count just how many days she’d been his captive.

“A while,” Malcolm said, guiding her down a narrow alley, his hand on her back.

“It smells as bad as ever.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “That it does. Dirty old London, no other place quite like it.”

The alley opened onto a larger street, which they crossed to get to a park.

An ancient man approached them with a tentative step. “Mr. Barton?”

“You must be Mr. Turner.”

A huge smile creased his face. “Yes, sir. Bill Turner at your service, sir.” His expression was wondrous, as if he were meeting God, himself.

“Is everything ready?” Malcolm prodded when the old man seemed content to stare.

“Er, it’s all set for you. I’ll just be standing here, sir. The other entrance has my assistant at it. No one will bother you, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Turner.”

“The pleasure is all mine, sir. Thank you.”

“Is it always like that?” Julia whispered as Malcolm guided her through the gate. “People staring at you like you’re some sort of rarified creature?”

He snorted. “Yes.”

“I don’t just mean because of your mask,” she hastened to add.

“I know what you meant,” he said dryly. “It isn’t me, personally, but what I represent: money and power. When people know who I am, they become… different. Very eager to please me.”

“Do you like that?”

He smiled down at her, his heavy-lidded gaze causing a hitch in her breathing. “When it helps me get what I want.” His pale blue eye flickered over her mouth before sliding back up. “I suppose I should have asked you if you knew how to skate.”

Julia had to force herself to concentrate on what he was saying. “Skate?”

He gestured to the frozen pond she’d failed to notice.

“Oh, yes, I’ve skated. Not often. Doyouknow how?” It was hard to imagine such a busy, important man taking the time to do something as frivolous as skate.

“I worked on several ponds when I was a lad.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people behaved.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “And what did that entail, exactly?”

Malcolm merely smiled and guided her toward a glowing brazier that had two chairs heaped with sheepskin rugs and shiny new skates propped beside them.

He lifted rugs off one chair and gestured for Julia to sit. “There is hot chocolate in the flask beside your chair.”

“Do you think of everything?” she asked.

“No, that is what Butkins is for.”

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