Page 73 of Her Beast

But just in case Kemp peeked inside later to check on her, Julia arranged some clothing and pillows beneath the blankets to make it look as if she were asleep, and then she turned off all the lights—the ones in the cornicing were controlled by some switch she’d not found—and then opened the door a crack and peered out.

Everything was quiet.

She stepped out and examined the wall panel she’d seen Malcolm use. On first glance it looked exactly like the one on the other side of her door.

It was composed of eight smaller panels, so Julia pressed on them, one at a time.

Nothing happened until she reached the very top left panel, which she had to stand on her toes to push.

The panel sank in an inch and then popped open, making a smoothsnick.

Julia had to stand back a few feet in order to see what was beneath the panel: a bronze knob that looked like a miniature doorhandle.

She stood on her tiptoes and fumbled for the handle before she could get enough of a grip to turn it.

But it didn’t turn.

So she pushed it.

Nothing happened.

But when she pulled it, the panel moved too, opening without a sound. Julia released the nob and peered around the door.

It was a narrow hallway—far smaller than the hall she stood in.

Julia felt strangely lightheaded and realized she’d been holding her breath. She filled her lungs and then stepped inside, studying the panel for a handle that would open the door from the inside.

Yes, there it was, in the same place as it was outside.

Satisfied that she could get out when she needed to, she turned and examined the corridor. It was plain and quite narrow—like the servant hallways in her father’s country house—and there were recessed lights like those in her chambers, albeit much dimmer.

Is that what this was? Just a servant corridor, built to ensure the master and mistress weren’t disturbed by having toseethe dozens of people who waited on them?

Just leave… now.

Julia ignored the voice.

She’d only walked a few feet when she saw something on the righthand wall that robbed her of breath: it was a window. And it looked right into her room!

Her brain scrambled to comprehend what she was seeing, but she knew it could only be one thing: the unusually large gold-framed mirror across from her bed was actually some sort of window.

Julia touched it; it was cool and smooth just like glass.

Her mind, already reeling drunkenly, veered down another path: Wereallmirrors like this—so you could see through them from one direction and they gave a reflection on the other? It sounded like a stupid question, but then she’d never seen the back of a mirror before.

Whether it was purposeful, or not, Malcolm would have seen into her room earlier tonight.

Was that the first time?

As she stared at the bed another thought struck her like the blow from a hammer: Did hewatchher? Did the servants?

She shivered at the thought of his glacial blue gaze on her, shock mingling with something else—something far too familiar: titillation.

You’re a whore! Just like your mother.

Her father’s voice was so loud that Julia stupidly spun around. He wasn’t there, of course, but another window—this one dark—was on the wall right behind her.

Julia pressed her face close to it and squinted, but she couldn’t see anything.

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