Rosamund
"What did Morwen tell you in the garden?"
Nevan's face went blank as he stared at me.
"Rosamund—"
"Don't." I held up my hand. "Don't tell me it's nothing. Don't tell me it's estate business. Don't tell me not to worry. Jennifer just looked me in the eye while being escorted from this house and told me to ask you that question, and the look on her face when she said it was not the look of a woman trying to cause trouble. It was the look of a woman who was genuinely afraid."
He stood in the corridor, five paces from me, his hands at his sides. The late afternoon light fell through the windows behind him, casting his shadow long across the stone floor.
"It's not something you need to concern yourself with," he said carefully.
"That is not your decision to make."
"Rosamund—"
