“Are you listening, my dear?” Lady Devereaux insisted, laying a gnarled hand on Elma’s arm. “It’s unseemly.” The moment Elma’s cousin reached out to touch her, Rune was there at her side. With the practiced grace of a dancer, he bowed, lifted Lady Devereaux’s hand from Elma’s arm, set it on the table, and said, “Don’t touch her.”
