There was something about Nina, something he struggled to name. It had to do with her hair like blackbird feathers and the way her hands fluttered when she was excited and how she bit her lips when she thought no one was looking.
Hector was focused. He looked at details. And nothing made him nervous; he could tame a crowd of hundreds with ease.
Yet he was nervous now, staring stupidly at her, and the force of that something held him in thrall.
She must have felt the weight of his gaze because she suddenly caught the book between her hands and pressed it against her chest. “Practice makes perfect,” she said, sounding unsure of herself. She placed the book on his desk and pointed across the room, her voice cheerful yet strained. “What is that? I can’t figure it out,” she said. “Is that an ostrich feather?”
“That’s a pirate’s hat,” he said, glancing at the corner where he kept the changing screen and his clothing.
“No.”
“Do you want to try it on?”
He pushed the screen aside to reveal the mirror and a wardrobe. It was a tattered old screen, faded golden lions against black. He’d had it for a long time. The wardrobe was also a humble piece of furniture, scratched and battered, but big enough to contain an array of clothes.
The mirror was grander. Gilded, tall, allowing Hector to see himself entirely. He’d had to do with a cracked hand mirror when he was young, enduring costume changes in the back of patched-up tents.
Back when he thought only of Valérie.
That had been long, long ago.
He’d taught himself how to dress properly, how to speak properly, what items to order from a menu, and the fashionable dances. All for that one woman.
What good had it done him?
None.
And now, this woman, nothing of what he knew could help with her. That was the crux of the matter. He’d learned so much and yet so little.
“Come on,” Hector said, setting the hat atop her head. “There’s a coat to go with it.”
“When did you dress as a pirate?”
“Two years ago, maybe. I despise costumes, but Dufren says it can’t always be me in a black jacket. Here.”
He pulled out a coat of rich, crimson brocade from the wardrobe and set it on Nina’s shoulders. It was far too large for her, but the color was pleasing. It gave her an impish quality.
“If you ever compete against me, dress in brocade,” he told her. “Though maybe you’ll leave me without any business if you do.”
He had meant to rest a hand on her shoulder, but at the last second, he stilled himself and his hand hovered but did not touch her.
He caught her gaze in the mirror and froze.
He was not used to this.
Everything about Valérie had been violent, hasty. There wasn’t any time for them. The minutes of the day escaped them, and they suffered each lost second. Swift excesses and even swifter emotions.
He’d been young. Now that he was older, wiser, he ought to comport himself better.
He was a man grown, self-assured and seasoned.
He was behaving worse than when he’d been a boy. At least back then, he understood what he wanted, he could string a sentence together.
Now it was like stumbling in the dark, like stuffing thorns in his mouth.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling ridiculous.
What he wanted to say, what he should say, was I keep thinking about you, it frightens me.
He might have said it, but then she slid the coat from her lean shoulders, straightened herself up, and took off the hat. “Luc Lémy courts me now,” she said in a small voice. “I thought I should say this.”
He finally understood why she’d been nervous and those uncomfortable pauses between them. He understood why she’d come to see him. It was Luc Lémy.
The invisible thorn, it bit into his tongue, and yet he found he could speak at last and his voice was cool.
“You must be pleased.”
“He’s fun,” she said, and luckily Hector did not wince.
“I’m sure he is.”
Hector went behind his desk. His papers were all in their place, but he pretended to look for an envelope so he could keep his eyes down and away from her. He was irritated and he did not want her to notice.
“He said you fought the other day,” she told him.
“We had a misunderstanding.”
“About me.”
“He’s hotheaded.”
“Hector, Luc is—”
He did look up at her now, and his gaze was flat. “Very fond of you. I know. It makes me happy to see you happy.”
Nina looked confused and also relieved and who the hell knew what else. He could not tell. He also had no idea if he meant what he had said, and that was deeply troubling.
No, he had. He wanted to see her happy. It was, if it hadn’t … but … Luc Lémy. But Hector had no reason to voice an opinion when he had not been asked to give one, and no reason to be upset after the way he had behaved the previous summer. As Luc had cheekily put it, he’d had his chance. It was Luc who was courting Nina now, Luc who would attempt to win her affections. For a gentleman, it would have been unseemly to interfere.
For the man who had broken Nina’s heart, it would be even more unseemly.
Hector had no right to whisper a word or think an ill thought of Luc.
He swallowed the thorns and smiled at her.
She smiled back tremulously, like a butterfly testing her wings, and he thought, She does like Luc.
“I should go. My great-aunts complain that I miss mealtimes and then the maid must warm my supper,” Nina said.
“It’s been a pleasure seeing you again.”
“I’ll stop by another time,” she promised. “I’ll send a note.”
After she’d left, he wondered when that would be and shook his head.
CHAPTER 13
There were no pines at Pine Lake Park, which rendered the origin of its name a mystery. There was a lake, and one could rent boats and row across it. Unlike most of the other parks of the city, which exhibited a symmetrical arrangement of trees and garden beds with a fountain or an important monument at its heart, Pine Lake Park was a chaotic assemblage of well-trodden paths and clumps of trees.
“And then he confiscated the motorcar,” Luc concluded dramatically as they approached one of those clumps.
“Can it be really ‘confiscated’ when it belongs to your brother?” Nina asked.
“You do not understand. It’s the heartlessness of the matter.”
From atop the hill, one had a lovely view of the lake, and the trees provided needed shelter from the sun, making it the perfect spot to linger.
“How heartless, yes, to deprive you of your toys,” she said.
“You mock me.”
Nina reached above her head, holding on to an overhanging branch with her left arm while she pointed with her free one at the lake. “We should rent a boat and row across the water.”
“I’m afraid I’m not a man fit for manual labor,” Luc replied.
“I’ll row you if you can’t,” Nina said with a chuckle.
“That would not be gentlemanly.”
“It would be fun.”
Luc looked up, frowning. “It’s sunny. I’ll burn.”