“Private visits tend to end with pistols drawn,” Knox murmured. “Want me to join you?”
Bishop shook his head. “I’d rather not have him suspect I’m with you.”
“Dove-Lyon knew to connect us, so he might, too.”
True enough. “Does he know about this townhouse?”
“I cannot say. Should we move you to one of Dare’s holdings?”
“No,” Bishop said. “Even if he suspects you, he might not believe we’d make it this obvious and live plainly in one of your properties. I’ll discuss the matter with Alyssia.”
Knox chuckled. “Handing your bride a say in the matter. You must be in love.”
Bishop scowled at his friend. “She deserves a say.”
“Very forward thinking of you. You mean to call in Crane?” Knox asked. “I imagine he’d come if you whistled.”
Bishop scoffed. He’d get a beating if he whistled at that man. “I’ll inform him, but I can’t ask him to come to London and support me.”
Knox arched a brow. “Why not?”
“Because he’s just married and he hates London. He deserves peace.”
“You also just married,” Knox said mildly, “and you’re knee-deep in trouble.”
Bishop’s mouth curved. “That’s different.”
“How so?”
“It just is.”
It had taken Crane’s first love to draw the hermit duke from his castle, much the same as what was escalating Bishop’s exposure of his uncle. Crane deserved the truth, but he’d never expect him to stand by his side.
Knox gave a low laugh. “That’s the kind of answer men give when they can’t win the argument.”
“Then call it practice,” Bishop returned, finishing his drink.
“Very well,” Knox said after a moment. “Then you shall have to do with me, Dare, and hopefully your father-in-law. A stellar trio.”
“You forget the law.”
“Ah, the law. Has that not always been a matter of might making right?”
Bishop shrugged. “Without his title, my uncle is nothing. With his cutthroats, he is not someone to trifle with. To deal with him, I’ll have to sweep them away in one go.”
“Very good,” Knox said, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth, “shall we prepare the brooms?”
Bishop let out a rough laugh despite himself. “Do you even know how to wield one?”
“Perhaps it is good to keep your wife informed,” Knox said, ignoring the question and tipping his glass toward Alyssia. “She looks as if she expects you to bolt.”
Bishop caught her sneaking a glance at them and winked at her, at which she promptly whipped her head around again. “That’s the one thing I’ll never do.”
“Yes, well, try not to bleed on my carpets in the meantime.”
Bishop’s mouth twitched. “I’ll do my best.” He glanced towardAlyssia again. Would any of this have happened had he only returned sooner? He had no choice but to shut down that line of thought. It would drive him crazy. Whatever came next—uncle, title, vengeance—he must face it with a level head.
But this... this wanting her to touch Alyssia when he damn well knew he shouldn’t?
