“I hate him. The Honorable Mr. Percival Russell.” She slid a sideways glance at the bishop. “I know it’s wrong to hate someone.” “Eh,” he said, in a tone that suggested otherwise. “Aren’t we supposed to love everyone?” “We’re supposed to, but…” He shrugged. “Some people are such vile snots.” A surprised laugh burst out of her mouth and she hastily stifled it. He met her gaze serenely. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you were a bishop.” He grinned. “It surprises me sometimes too. What were they thinking?”
