Gwen looked up, startled. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from lunch—but it wasn’t this. Her first instinct was hesitation. The house had felt like a fragile retreat these past few weeks. The idea of sharing it, especially with someone she didn’t fully trust, felt unsettling.
Still, Elizabeth’s request didn’t come with pressure. She hadn’t demanded anything—just asked, with quiet restraint. Gwen folded her hands around her cup and thought for a moment. The house did have space. And this wasn’t just anyone. It was Albert’s daughter. Saying no felt unnecessarily cold.