‘The sky was beginning to darken, and the fortified tower houses of the Toulouse nobility were stark, crenellated silhouettes all around the basilica close as Beatriz emerged from the sculpture workshop. Moving toward the path, she noticed a woman wearing a brilliant red dress, standing framed in the tall ground-floor window of one of the tower houses. The woman had her back to the window, exposing the intricate lacing of her dress, running from low in the small of her back up to the nape of her neck. Candlelight blazed from the window and projected out onto the ground at Beatriz’s feet. Dusk was gathering the last light like the slow sweep of a raven’s wing. A man in dark clerical garb came up behind the woman and Beatriz could only see his back too. Delicately and slowly, he unlaced the dress, and Beatriz watched the looping movements of his hands, mesmerised, thinking of Lluis’ hands. It was near full dark now and she reluctantly turned away to hurry back toward the chateau. The city gates would be closing soon, and the curfew bell would ring in an hour or so.’

Love’s Knife, Chapter 7