In all honesty, I did not want to sip tea with a bunch of women who politely tried to hold back their animosity toward me anyway. I suspected the fragrant black tea would taste like ash and Alana’s mood would only continue to darken in the face of the others’ hostility toward me. So it seemed in the best interest of all for me to disappear. Unfortunately, Lady Westlock was not so willing to allow me to escape unscathed. When I turned right instead of left as I exited the dining room, she grabbed hold of my arm, digging her fingernails into my skin. “I’ve got my eyes on you,” she hissed with enough venom to splatter me with her spit. I yanked my arm from out of her grasp, feeling the scratches her claws left behind, and reached up to swipe the wetness from my cheek with the back of my hand. “So does your husband,” I remarked under my breath dryly. I hurried away and had almost managed to slip out of sight down the hall, when I heard Philip calling my name.
