Page 102 of Her Beast

“Sit.” Malcolm didn’t raise his voice, but he allowed his mask to slip—the other mask, the one not made of silk and leather—the one that hid the malice he bore her.

She sneered at him but gracelessly dropped into her chair.

Malcolm knew he was a bad man because he reveled in the stench of fear that emanated from her. He especially enjoyed watching as her carefully constructed façade of gentility shattered right before his eyes.

“I want my sons!” she shouted, tears sliding down her carefully rouged and powdered cheeks.

“They are safe with your mother. I’m sure Mr. Bacon gave you her telegram.”

“How do I know it’s from her? Besides, she hates me and my husband.”

She’s not the only one, Malcolm thought, but did not say.

“How do I know that she will give them back?”

“Because I’m telling you so.”

“Why should I believe you? You’re an animal! A vile, vulgar, disgusting—”

“Shut up, Mrs. Harlow.”

Her sagging jaw and bulging eyes were almost comical.

“The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner I will bring your sons back.”

“What questions? I have no idea why you’ve done this or what you want.”

Malcolm’s mouth twisted with genuine amusement. “You haven’t spoken to your husband about hisownsons, Mrs. Harlow?”

Her flushed face turned a darker, ugly shade of red. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“Why, whatever do you mean?”

But Mrs. Harlow didn’t care for that question, either. Instead, she answered his prior one, “Of course I spoke to Thomas! He is the one who told me you abducted my brother and thatuseless slut.”

Malcolm squeezed the arms of the chair to keep from grabbing the emaciated bitch and making her eat her words.

He squelched his rage and got to the point—before he really did hurt her. “I’ll ask you the same question I asked your dear brother, Mrs. Harlow: whose idea was it?”

Her lips parted in shock and her eyelids fluttered as she searched for a convenient lie.

“You have one chance to tell me the truth. One.” Malcolm held up one finger—making sure to use his damaged left hand—and pushed all the loathing he felt for her into his quiet words. “If you lie to me, I will make you the sorriest woman in Britain. Are we understood?”

Her righteous indignation leached away, leaving her looking pasty and shriveled, as if she were slowly collapsing on the inside.

“I’ll tell you the truth.”

“Get on with it.”

“I didn’t hear about any of it until it was all over and done and—"

Malcolm barked an ugly, humorless laugh.

“—neither did my brother. Or Thomas,” she added hastily.

“Do tell, Mrs. Harlow.”

“It was all that vile pervert’s plan—Brian’s.”

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