something to say, something that would show him that he
couldn’t intimidate her. But Bishop didn’t wait for her response. Turning, he
strode back out into the hallway, nodding to Douglas and Susan as he scooped
his bag off the floor. Lila heard his footsteps going down the stairs and then
silence.
CHAPTER 4
It took every ounce of courage she possessed for Lila to come
downstairs for breakfast the morning after her wedding. She had lain awake into
the early hours of the morning, her mind replaying the events of the day,
particularly the final scene with Bishop. She kept thinking of things she could
have said or done to show him what she thought of his barbaric behavior, to
make it clear that he couldn’t intimidate her. Except he had intimidated
her—quite thoroughly. Not even in her imagination could she conjure up a
picture of herself standing up to the man who’d loomed so menacingly over her
bed.
Feeling an uneasy mixture of bravado and trepidation, she entered
the dining room, prepared to greet her new husband with a show of calm. But
Bishop was not there, and Lila refused to acknowledge that there might be a
trace of disappointment mixed in with her relief. Douglas and Susan were seated
at one end of the table. They looked up as she entered, their self-conscious expressions
giving Lila a pretty clear idea of what they’d been discussing. Douglas, and
Susan, and everyone else in Beaton, she thought with a twinge of wry humor.
“Good morning.” She was pleased to hear how normal she sounded.
“How are you this morning?” Susan asked, her expression anxious.
“I’m fine.” Lila lifted her brows in faint surprise, as if she
couldn’t imagine why Susan was asking. Thomas slid her chair out for her and
she sat down at the table, casting him a quick smile. “Are there any muffins left
or did Douglas hog them all, as usual?”
“I think Cook held back one or two just for you, Miss Lila.”
Thomas’s smile was affectionate.
“See if you can sneak them in past my brother, please, Thomas.”
They’d had variations on the same conversation many times over the years.
“He doesn’t have to sneak them past me,” Douglas protested
automatically. “You’d think I stole the food right off your plate, the way you
talk.”
“Well, I did notice you eyeing my bacon this morning, dear,” Susan
said.
The light conversation was strained. Too much remained unspoken
for it to be otherwise, but Lila was grateful for its normalcy. For a little
while, it almost seemed possible that she’d imagined everything that had
happened—that yesterday had never happened.
But the fragile illusion was destroyed a moment later when Bishop
walked into the room. Lila didn’t need to see the sudden stiffness in Douglas’s
expression to tell her that Bishop had arrived. Even with her back to the door,
she knew he was there. She could feel him, as if something in the very air
changed when he entered a room. There was a tense moment of silence, broken by
Susan.
“Good morning, Bishop.”
“Morning.” Bishop nodded to Douglas before walking to the
sideboard to pour himself a cup of coffee. He’d spent a damned uncomfortable
night sleeping on a sofa in the library, and his mood was about as warm as the
ache in his neck. At that, it was warmer than the atmosphere in the dining
room.
He leaned one hip against the sideboard and studied the three
people before him. Douglas was wearing a dark, tailored suit, sober as a judge
and about as friendly. Susan, in a dress of her favorite soft blue, was casting
worried looks from him to Lila, who seemed to be utterly fascinated by the
floral pattern on her plate.
“Good morning, Lila.” For a moment, he thought she was going to
ignore him, but he should have known better. Hearing the soft challenge in his
voice, her chin came up, her green eyes meeting his coolly.
“Bishop.” She nodded her head as regally as a queen greeting a
subject—a not terribly important subject, at
couldn’t intimidate her. But Bishop didn’t wait for her response. Turning, he
strode back out into the hallway, nodding to Douglas and Susan as he scooped
his bag off the floor. Lila heard his footsteps going down the stairs and then
silence.
CHAPTER 4
It took every ounce of courage she possessed for Lila to come
downstairs for breakfast the morning after her wedding. She had lain awake into
the early hours of the morning, her mind replaying the events of the day,
particularly the final scene with Bishop. She kept thinking of things she could
have said or done to show him what she thought of his barbaric behavior, to
make it clear that he couldn’t intimidate her. Except he had intimidated
her—quite thoroughly. Not even in her imagination could she conjure up a
picture of herself standing up to the man who’d loomed so menacingly over her
bed.
Feeling an uneasy mixture of bravado and trepidation, she entered
the dining room, prepared to greet her new husband with a show of calm. But
Bishop was not there, and Lila refused to acknowledge that there might be a
trace of disappointment mixed in with her relief. Douglas and Susan were seated
at one end of the table. They looked up as she entered, their self-conscious expressions
giving Lila a pretty clear idea of what they’d been discussing. Douglas, and
Susan, and everyone else in Beaton, she thought with a twinge of wry humor.
“Good morning.” She was pleased to hear how normal she sounded.
“How are you this morning?” Susan asked, her expression anxious.
“I’m fine.” Lila lifted her brows in faint surprise, as if she
couldn’t imagine why Susan was asking. Thomas slid her chair out for her and
she sat down at the table, casting him a quick smile. “Are there any muffins left
or did Douglas hog them all, as usual?”
“I think Cook held back one or two just for you, Miss Lila.”
Thomas’s smile was affectionate.
“See if you can sneak them in past my brother, please, Thomas.”
They’d had variations on the same conversation many times over the years.
“He doesn’t have to sneak them past me,” Douglas protested
automatically. “You’d think I stole the food right off your plate, the way you
talk.”
“Well, I did notice you eyeing my bacon this morning, dear,” Susan
said.
The light conversation was strained. Too much remained unspoken
for it to be otherwise, but Lila was grateful for its normalcy. For a little
while, it almost seemed possible that she’d imagined everything that had
happened—that yesterday had never happened.
But the fragile illusion was destroyed a moment later when Bishop
walked into the room. Lila didn’t need to see the sudden stiffness in Douglas’s
expression to tell her that Bishop had arrived. Even with her back to the door,
she knew he was there. She could feel him, as if something in the very air
changed when he entered a room. There was a tense moment of silence, broken by
Susan.
“Good morning, Bishop.”
“Morning.” Bishop nodded to Douglas before walking to the
sideboard to pour himself a cup of coffee. He’d spent a damned uncomfortable
night sleeping on a sofa in the library, and his mood was about as warm as the
ache in his neck. At that, it was warmer than the atmosphere in the dining
room.
He leaned one hip against the sideboard and studied the three
people before him. Douglas was wearing a dark, tailored suit, sober as a judge
and about as friendly. Susan, in a dress of her favorite soft blue, was casting
worried looks from him to Lila, who seemed to be utterly fascinated by the
floral pattern on her plate.
“Good morning, Lila.” For a moment, he thought she was going to
ignore him, but he should have known better. Hearing the soft challenge in his
voice, her chin came up, her green eyes meeting his coolly.
“Bishop.” She nodded her head as regally as a queen greeting a
subject—a not terribly important subject, at
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