“Yes, it was gold,” Edilean said.
“Damn!” Shamus said.
“He said—” Angus began.
“I could understand that!” Edilean said angrily. “You have always thought that I’m incompetent and worthless.”
“I’ve never thought any such thing!” Angus said. “If you’ll stop this lunacy and give me time to explain, I could tell you—”
“Edilean,” said a woman who came to the doorway, “whatever are you doing?”
“Tabitha?” Angus asked. “Is that you?”
Edilean looked from one to the other, at the way Angus’s face was breaking into a smile, and she fired again.
Angus just had time to dive under the settee, his head between Shamus’s and Malcolm’s feet.
In the next second a woman came running from the back of the house and Angus recognized her as Harriet Harcourt.
“Edilean!” Harriet said. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Hand me a loaded pistol,” Edilean said to the woman behind Harriet.
Harriet pushed the girl’s hand away. “This is absurd! You can’t shoot at people and you cannot destroy the furniture again!”
Angus backed out from under the settee and stood up, his face showing his relief. “That’s just what I’ve been telling her.”
Harriet looked at Angus and her face turned to anger. “You! Give me that pistol!” She snatched the pistol from the girl and fired at Angus, who went back down under the settee.
Tam, still on the other side of the room, hiding behind a chair, said, “What the hell did you do to these women?”
“I’d rather not t
alk about it,” Angus said from under the couch.
It was Malcolm who stopped it all. Suddenly, he stood up and was staring at Harriet.
Shamus looked up at him. “What’s wrong with you? If you don’t sit down, you’ll make all this stop.”
Edilean looked from Malcolm to Harriet, then back again. “Harriet,” she said softly, “why don’t you take Malcolm into the kitchen, patch up his wound, and get him some more of those little tarts you made?”
Harriet and Malcolm just stood there, staring at each other.
Edilean turned to Tabitha, who was watching everything with a wide grin on her face. “Would you please help those two into the kitchen?”
Angus nodded across the room to Tam, who pushed the chair over. In the confusion of the noise, Angus quickly slipped out of the room and put himself between Edilean and the weapons, but he didn’t touch her. “Are you over your hissy fit now?”
Edilean’s face showed her rage; her fists were clenched at her side. “If I had a knife I’d cut your throat. I want you to get out of my house and never return.”
“Tam has something he wants to say to you.”
“Tam may stay. In fact, all the rest of you may spend the night. But you”—she glared at Angus—“you must go.”
“Edilean, I know you hate me and maybe you have a right to, but—”
“Maybe?” she said, her voice nearly a screech.
“All right, you do have every right to hate me, but please listen to what they have to say. And please know that I’ll do anything to help them.”