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."

the one with the upper hand. I even slapped her. I'd say I won

Lyman's face. His little wife was tougher than

whispers rippled through the crowd. No one had ever seen Lyman so attentive to a woman before. The way he looked

expected to feel nervous running into Mitchell, but now, looking at him, he seemed like nothing

appearances like this, but as soon as he did, someone pulled him away for a

had business to handle, Effie offered to stay behind and grab a bite to

her a quick glance

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

a figure stepped in front of

up-straight

appetite vanished in an instant. The mousse cake lost

"You know, decent people don't block the

black. "Effie, what's

sounds like. You're in my way." Effie's tone

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