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. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. “What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed. “You ought at once—you ought at once to have told her that. “Your sister’s future is at stake. You won't have him long. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved.
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