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."

I was the one

face. His little wife

to a woman before. The way he looked at Effie left no doubt about their closeness. Eyes

running into Mitchell, but now, looking at him, he seemed like nothing

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

to

shot her a quick

pastry chef flown

front of her, blocking

looked up-straight into Mitchell's

The mousse cake

note of annoyance, Effie said, "You know,

black. "Effie, what's that supposed

in my way." Effie's tone was cool, her

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