11
“What is going on with you?” Anneliese signaled even before Hugh had slammed the door. “He almost broke Frank’s nose and he manhandled me back here! If he—”
“Anneliese, calm yourself,” MacDonald interrupted. “Hugh’s going to be your husband.”
She gawked at his calm, icy tone. This man before her was not the easygoing grandfather she’d seen earlier this morning, but more of the general who ordered men in war. “Are you drunk?”
“Anneliese—”
“No?” She threw her hands in the air before gesturing, “Are you senile?”
“That’s enough.”
“No, it’s not! Hugh attacked Frank.” Hugh’s eyes had been so wild, she’d been afraid for Frank’s sake. “Like some barbarian. And you just told me I’m to marry him! I love Frank. He’s the man I want to marry.”
“Really?”
“No. But I’m not going to marry Hugh.
