He would never be rid of her.
“Luc Lémy comes from a reputable family, he is one of us. Antonina will be received in every house in the city, invited to every single ball, her name splashed over all the papers,” Valérie said, closing the wardrobe’s doors.
Her husband had moved to change behind a screen painted with white peacocks. Valérie pulled the sheets and reluctantly got in bed. They shared a massive four-poster bed wide enough that five people might fit in it, but certain nights Valérie felt it was not wide enough. Certain nights she wanted him to sleep at the other end of the world.
Had he gone to the party by himself, he would probably have done her the courtesy of going to sleep in one of the guest rooms, the hour being late and he not wanting to wake her.
Inconsiderate oaf, she thought, but she made an effort to candy-coat her words.
“You must think carefully of Antonina. You yourself told me how difficult it was to find her a proper suitor in Montipouret. All that talk about her talent … and that was before she smashed those windows at Oldhouse. Everyone was talking about it. Remember how even at Jacot’s they’d heard of it?”
“People have always talked nonsense about Nina. She’s an energetic child,” Gaétan protested from behind the screen.
“We know that. But what do others think? They probably imagine she is difficult, even mercurial.”
He did not answer but she knew what he was thinking. Montipouret would be no good for a husband. Not that anyone would have seriously considered it before—Antonina had been sent to the city for a reason the previous spring. A suitor from Montipouret was now a dimmer possibility. And it would look lowly for Gaétan if they had to resort to this. It would stain his pride, going back to the source he had discarded.
“Antonina made a mistake. She should not have pushed for us to accept Mr. Auvray as a suitor. Then again, what does a young girl know about picking a husband? Should we not counsel her?”
Gaétan emerged from behind the screen in his silk pajamas, no slippers on his feet. He was not old, he was Hector’s age, but it seemed to Valérie as if he was aging fast. He was rather paunchy and his looks, which had never been especially good, were quickly fading.
Hector Auvray had a chiseled face, and time had made him harder but more distinctive. There was nothing distinctive about her husband.
And Gaétan’s breath was sour. His teeth were bad. He had a peasant’s mouth.
At least Antonina would marry a handsome boy.
Maybe he won’t even count the seed pearls he gifts her, Valérie thought bitterly.
But let her have that blond youth, what did Valérie care? It was her family’s position that mattered, the fortune they might snag that tantalized her. Was this not what she had been meant to do? They’d sent Valérie out in the world to battle in their name, and like a conquering general, she would deliver them a new kingdom.
Gaétan turned off the lights. “He does bear a reputable name,” Gaétan said, now pulling up the covers and lying down, propping two pillows behind himself.
“It’s crucial that we support his efforts,” Valérie advised him. “You might have a word with Antonina in his behalf.”
“If you think it necessary.”
“Certainly,” Valérie said with a vigorous nod.
“Then I will.”
Victory assured, Valérie allowed herself to smile in the dark and laid her head against the pillow. Gaétan was soon fast asleep.
She did not have an easy time slipping into dreams. She’d accomplished much, yet she turned, restless. It was because Gaétan was there when she had wanted to be alone, she thought.
It was because of this.
But she kept thinking of Hector Auvray. It was as if by mentioning his name, Gaétan had conjured a demon, and Valérie could not order that linen be ironed and windows be washed to assuage herself. She could not walk to her garden and gaze proudly at her roses. She could not run her hands over her jewels, admiring the magnificent pearls Gaétan kept speaking about.
All she could do in the dark was remember what he looked like when she’d last seen him, when he’d leaned down to kiss her. A single kiss after many years.
And when they’d been younger and he’d curled his arm around her, brushing his lips against her hair. The way his voice sounded when he’d whispered against her ear. “Would you wait for me?”
She hadn’t.
He had.
He’d wait forever, she thought. He must.
At least she had this satisfaction.
In her bitterness, in that oppressive bed, she thought Antonina Beaulieu would not know this devotion. She had all the wealth Valérie had ever hungered for and she’d have that pretty boy, but no devotion.
Had I been given her wealth, I would have done as I pleased, Valérie thought. I would have waited.
She turned her head and closed her eyes.
She ought to have gone to the party, a place where there were lights and champagne, and she might admire herself in the mirror and think herself satisfied.
CHAPTER 7
The Haduiers’ house was too large, too bold to be considered genteel, and to make matters worse, Agnes had wallpapered it in a ghastly yellow that made visitors wince. But the Haduiers had a garden, which made up for their gaffes and served as a magnificent space for dancing under the open night sky. Many of the guests wandered around, glasses in hand, admiring the topiary, while the most adventurous sneaked into the hedge maze where a kiss or two would be exchanged.
Nina lingered in the sitting room, with its paintings of fruits and flowers on the walls—nothing matched here. Agnes had no taste, and where she should have opted for modern views of the city, she instead placed pedestrian compositions of bread and cheeses.
Four girls gathered around Nina, all of them in prim dresses, gloves on their hands. Nina had taken off her gloves because the business of manipulating objects with her talent was more difficult with them on.
Nina made the fan floating before her spin in slow concentric circles. It resembled a bird in its movements, rather than an inanimate object, and one of the girls squealed in delight at the sight of it. Nina reached out and the fan stopped, sliding into her hand. Nina smiled at the girls.
“How odd!” one of the girls said. “How interesting!”
“Fascinating,” Luc chimed in.
He was standing next to her, looking keen. He’d danced two dances with Nina. Yet Nina had not failed to notice that he had filled out his dance card with many other names not five minutes after his arrival.
“That’s probably enough,” Luc told her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “People are staring at you.”
He was right. Two women were giving her an icy look, their fans pressed against their skirts. One of them spoke to the other, staring at Nina all the while. The girls smiled at Nina and stepped back, retreating, returning to the shadow of their mothers.
This party was on the smaller side and everyone was well acquainted, which left Nina in a bit of a cumbersome situation. Luc had been solicitous, taking her to and from the refreshment room, introducing her to several people, yet she felt a stranger. And now she’d made a grievous mistake.
“What is wrong?” she asked.