32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. Another picture slid across her vision. Here it is. I think that nearly every manager in London has made me an offer.
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