“Oh, it’s you.” She turned on me, mighty cold and haughty. “Sir, I take it as a great presumption that you dare to stay at the same inn with me after attempting to murder my husband that is to be.”
“Murder!” I gasped, giving ground in dismay at this unexpected charge.
“Murder was the word I used, sir. Do you not like it?”
“’Twas a fair fight,” I muttered.
“Was it not you that challenged? Did you not force it on him?”
“Yes, but——”
“And then you dare to come philandering here after me. Do you think I can change lovers as often as gloves, sir? Or as often as you?”
“Madam, I protest——”
“La! You protest! Did you not come here to see me? Answer me that, sir!” With an angry stamp of her foot.
“Yes, Mistress Westerleigh, your note——”