"Your lady has no need for anything remotely maternal."

Before they'd arrived in Rome, someone had swept the dust out of this bedroom, taken the covers off the furniture, made the bed with new sheets on a fluffed mattress, spread out an embroidered quilt with velvet trim that would be soft on a sleeper's chin. Someone performed these rituals of service without knowing who'd receive them. It didn't matter. The beauty of wealth was that it spread over secrets like butter.

Excerpted from The Everlasting by Katy Simpson Smith. Copyright © 2020 by Katy Simpson Smith. Excerpted by permission of Harper. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.