Chapter 55

"If your sister can't behave herself, perhaps she should stay home and learn some manners, instead of running around biting people like a rabid dog."

Lyman's gaze swept over Mitchell, cold and cutting, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a mocking smirk.

Mitchell's expression darkened instantly. His fists clenched at his sides before he could stop himself.

But he knew better than to cross Lyman. Drawing a deep breath, he forced down his anger and replied, his voice low and icy, "Yes, Mr. Etheridge. You're right."

Lyman and Effie paid him no further attention.

Lyman slipped an arm around Effie's waist and led her away.

Mitchell stood watching them go, a bitter ache twisting in his chest, leaving him at a loss for words.

Lyman felt Effie tense beside him. He looked down, his eyes warm and steady. "Don't worry," he murmured, "I'm here. If she upset you, I could have someone teach her another lesson-just say the word."

"No need. Didn't you see? I was the one with the upper hand. I even slapped her. I'd say I won this

His little wife was tougher than

so attentive to a woman before. The

and composure. She'd expected to feel nervous running into Mitchell, but now, looking at him, he seemed

soon as

Effie offered to stay behind and grab

her a quick

heard the desserts here were famous-made by a seven-star French pastry chef flown in for the occasion. She helped herself to a slice of mousse

a figure stepped in front

and looked up-straight

appetite vanished in an instant. The mousse cake lost all its

"You know, decent people don't

went black. "Effie, what's

You're in my

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