The day opened with noise. Even though the west wing wasn’t attached directly to the main mansion, Valentina could hear it from her bed: ladders clattering, men’s voices calling to one another, the scrape of heavy furniture being dragged across polished floors. Every so often Nancy’s voice cut through loudly, angrily, precise, leaving no room for whatever confusion was growing.

Val lay on her side, blankets tucked under her chin, listening. For a moment she thought it was almost ...