"She has gone back?"
"You look disturbed, Mr. Graham. Has she left you behind?"
"Well no…I mean I am quite capable of finding my own way home, I assure you."
"I am glad to hear it, since my wife's allowance has been cut off."
"Cut off?" The color began to drain from Graham's face.
"Mr. Graham, I believe you. If you say my wife has not paid you, then I must. However, my funds will not be available until the end of the week. I hope you dinna mind waiting."
"But I cannot afford to stay a week."
"You have no money at all?"
Graham looked worried. "Not enough to pay for a week's stay in a hotel."
"That is a pity. Perhaps I might put in a good word with the hotel manager and you can pay him at the end of your stay."
"Yes, that might do."
"Naturally, I must deny some of your invoices."
George Graham set his cup of tea on a nearby table and stood up. "Mr. MacGreagor, you have no right!"
Hannish put his cup down and slowly got up as well. "I have every right. I asked my brother to look over the place. You neglected several things I specifically put on my list, yet you invoiced me for them. Shall I show you the…"
"That won't be necessary. I shall leave now."
"Have a nice walk."
"Walk? What have you done with my horse?"
"I fear he has thrown a shoe. Of course, if you wish to stay, I am certain we can make you more than comfortable here."
Graham fiddled with his hat rim. "Perhaps your man might take me to town?"
"I am afraid not, I keep everyone quite busy here. Have you met my sister? I am certain you have, she was on the ship…" Suddenly, a shot rang out. Hannish ran out of the study, across the parlor, through the foyer and out the front door.
Shepard stood in the middle of the lawn with a still smoking Springfield musket in his hand, looking at something in the trees. "What is it, Shepard?"
"Charles Whitfield, Mr. Hannish. I missed."
Said Hannish, "Now there's a pity."
"He'll not be coming back this time, Mr. Hannish."
"Dinna count on it, Shepard. His kind always comes back." When he turned around, Mr. Graham was standing there with his mouth gaping. Hannish put his hand on George Graham's shoulder and tried to urge him back toward the house, but Graham was reluctant to go. "Mr. Whitfield fancies my sister, but his manners are too poor to suit either of us."