“Last summer Nina was being courted by Hector Auvray,” the boy said, sounding mildly offended. “He is a pleasant enough fellow, but he also spins mirrors in the air for a living.”
“His account is worth more than the contents of a modest button-making business. Gaétan would not have invited him into our home if that were not the case.”
Luc opened his mouth and exhaled loudly. He was sitting forward, an arm resting against his leg, the cigarette dangling from his fingers. His shoes shone brightly and he wore a nicely tailored blue suit, but Valérie could spot a man without a fortune of his own with practiced ease. She had been the same as he, concealing behind her beautiful smile the slim chances she possessed.
Luc had more opportunities than she’d had. What she would not have given for a silly business that sold buttons, or the generosity of older siblings. Yet there could be no denying Nina would enter this marriage with greater coffers than her husband.
It was not, however, an inelegant proposition. The lease of the land might liberate the Véries of the mendicant yoke they lived under, having to take whatever crumbs Gaétan threw to them. And if the venture went well, Luc would rise in esteem and position, and Nina with him.
“I admit you have a good name, though,” Valérie said, smiling. “Your family is well liked. Most importantly, you are one of us.”
At that Luc raised his head and straightened up a fraction.
“Good breeding, good manners, they are important. You move in the right circles and I wager you move competently. And you are clever, Mr. Lémy.”
“Thank you.”
“You dress sharply, and I am sure you could catch the eye of a young lady.”
Now that his triumph was near, Luc allowed himself to smile back. But a triumph was not what Valérie was intending. She spoke sweetly, but her words were serious.
“A lease and a bonus are welcome, Mr. Lémy, but I would insist on an initial … shall we call it ‘deposit’?” she said, savoring the surprised look on his face. “A sum showing your goodwill. Your hotel could sink into the sea, and my family would not see a cent. Don’t worry. The payment can wait until you have wed and secured Nina’s dowry. In exchange for a promise of your generosity, I believe I could breathe a positive word about you into my husband’s ear. Your shortcomings need not be shortcomings at all.”
This was what he had expected to hear, but not put in this way. He did not hesitate and nodded enthusiastically. “Thank you, Mrs. Beaulieu,” Luc said. “You must not imagine that I care only for Nina’s fortune, though. I intend to be a proper husband to her.”
Valérie thought she knew exactly what Luc Lémy meant by “a proper husband.” He’d give Nina half a dozen brats to tend to, kiss her gently on the cheek, and keep only discreet mistresses, ensuring that his affairs were not publicized. Nina, in her idiocy, would likely mistake all this for happiness.
Valérie smiled indulgently at the young man. “I know you will be. Tell me, since we are being candid, does Nina welcome your attention?”
“I’ve spent time with her and I believe she likes me.”
“You should spend more time with her, then, until you know she likes you enough to be married to you. Gaétan is reluctant on the matter of arranged marriages. He’ll ask for her opinion, and mine, and you do not want a lukewarm response from that child.”
It was one of the most irritating bits of Antonina, the knowledge that her cousin would not force her into a marriage, like a parcel to be sold at the market. Valérie had been given no choice, but Antonina was allowed to have her heart’s desire.
“I will definitely woo her. I wouldn’t think not to. She is pretty and animated; it is the matter of Hector Auvray. I think she had her heart set on him,” he said.
Hector Auvray. That was long past, though. Wasn’t it? Surely she would have forgotten about him, and he had no doubt gone his own merry way.
She surveyed Luc Lémy critically. With his youth and light hair, and that air of sophisticated ease he had, could a girl of twenty ignore him? No, she wouldn’t. She would notice him. She would beam at him. Give him a week, perhaps two, she’d be devoted to him.
Yet the sharp edge of dread stabbed at Valérie’s heart as she recalled Nina’s letter and the emotion poured upon the paper.
“Young man, listen to me carefully,” Valérie said. “If you truly want Antonina, then you must erase any traces of that man from her mind. This Grand Season is an opportunity for us both, but you must do your part.”
Valérie pressed a hand against her gown, feeling the golden buttons underneath her palm.
CHAPTER 5
Hector worked on the weekends, doing two shows every night. Thursdays he also performed, but only once in the evening. Mondays and Tuesdays he rested, staying away from the theater. He began his day with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast for breakfast, reading a book by the window.
Around lunchtime he headed to the outdoor market that stretched behind the former convent of Saint Ilse. There he purchased vegetables and fruits, meats and fish, and all manner of other foods. He paused at the bakery on the way back home for a fresh loaf of bread and bought a newspaper at the newsstand. Then he proceeded to cook himself lunch. Hector learned how to make his own meals out of necessity, when he had been penniless and young, but he had grown to enjoy the process and though he did not reject the notion of restaurants, he preferred home-cooked meals when he could manage them. He also took pride in his self-sufficiency.
When he was done eating, Hector read the paper, then went out for a stroll. He liked Boniface because of its narrow streets and alleys that led nowhere. It was easy to get lost there, and every block offered a strange new treasure. There was a store that sold only music boxes next to a perfumer’s shop, but take one turn, and you’d come to an oddly quiet alley that ended in a cemetery. There were sedate, hidden gardens and boisterous establishments. Places for contemplation and spaces for noise and life.
In the evenings, Hector stopped at a coffee shop and regularly patronized the Pearl and the Swine, where all manner of musicians performed. On occasion he visited one of the playhouses at the Green District.
That day the sun shone brightly. Hector thought he might depart for his walk earlier than usual, so he could take advantage of the wonderful weather. He sat by the window in his leather chair, about ready to put away his book and prepare himself, when a knock made him raise his head.
He stood up and walked toward the entrance. He was in his old, collarless lounging robe. He had not expected any visitors.
“Yes? Who is it?” he asked.
The silence made him move quickly, telling him he should hurry, and he flung the door open.
Nina looked at him, her eyes cool and her face composed. He was somewhat sad to see she was perfectly coiffed, her hair gathered at her nape. He’d liked her hair loose, a bit unkempt, as if the wind had been toying with it all day.
She looked like a lady now, and he thought perhaps her fashionable dress and prim hair were supposed to serve as a type of shield.
He stepped aside, allowing her in without a word.
When he closed the door, Nina spoke, her voice brusque. “What do you think you are doing, sending me beetles for many days now?” she asked.