I felt heat rise in my face and I read it again, just to be certain it was the right Phelan. The pompous, impolite, selfish, tragically handsome Phelan. The aristocrat who had stolen my home and disgraced me. Bumping into his haughty mother the day before at the art shop had only roused the worst of my feelings. Toward him, toward Lennox. Toward a family that felt as if they could take whatever they desired and suffer no consequences for it.
