Nevan
On the first day, I told myself she needed space and instead buried myself in estate business.
I'd spent the morning in my study with Mr Alistair, compiling figures on displaced families, crop losses, and livestock that had either died or wandered into the blight and never returned.
I met with the village leaders from the eastern road encampment in the afternoon, listened to their concerns, and authorised the release of provisions from the estate stores.
I didn't go to her room. I didn't send for her. When Mrs Harlow informed me quietly that the Duchess had taken her food in her chambers and would not be joining me for dinner, I nodded and said nothing.
She needed space; that was reasonable. The night we'd shared had been intense, unexpected, and a woman as proud as Rosamund would need time to reconcile what her body had done with what her mind believed she wanted. I could give her that.
The first night, I ate alone.
