Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. “Oh. “I think we’ve exhausted this discussion,” she said. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. “Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. 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.
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