Theresa
Shelly waved it off, ever cheerful. "It's alright, Grandma. They helped me along the way. They're good people."
The old woman narrowed her eyes. "There's only one man. Are you seeing double?"
Shelly patted her dress down. "There are three of them, Grandma. He and him," she pointed at Maverick and Julius, "are Lord Beecham's friends."
The old woman turned toward Maverick and Julius. Her eyes widened in recognition but quickly sharpened.
Without a word, she marched straight toward Maverick, who took a step back, frozen in surprise. Standing right in front of him, she squinted up, her gaze as sharp as a hawk's.
"You're Maverick?" she demanded.
Maverick nodded carefully, his face paling.
Before he could react, the old woman gripped his arm tightly. "You unfilial son! How could you not visit your parents' graves for all these years?" She gave him a slight turn, her hand landing a solid, reprimanding smack on his back.