“I’m sure she will agree once you’ve spoken to her and Luc has made a formal proposal.”
Gaétan nodded and rose, taking her hand between his and kissing it. “You are clever, my darling,” he said. “Nina is lucky to have you watching over her.”
Valérie gently pushed her husband’s hands away. His physical displays of affection never failed to irritate her. Hector, on the other hand—she had not been able to have enough of his embraces. He knew how to hold her, how to speak to her, soothing and comforting her and planting kisses on her mouth.
The wretch, she thought, and her fury was such that she had to turn from Gaétan and pretend to look out the window, clutching the curtain tightly with one hand.
“We must have the engagement party before the Grand Season concludes—the sooner, the better,” she said. Her voice sounded as if she were chewing broken glass, but her husband was oblivious to it or perhaps imagined she was overcome with emotion over Nina.
“It takes time, Valérie,” her husband said, put off by the thought. “We can’t possibly throw a proper party that soon.”
“A small affair, close friends and family. We can have a grander party in the summer, at Oldhouse, and I think you would agree a winter wedding may be the best choice. But as far as formalities go, this one is a necessary one.”
A most necessary one. An engagement was a serious thing, but engagements behind closed doors could be more easily dissolved. Once the city was informed of the situation, it was another matter. No one wanted to be singled out in the papers as the party who broke an engagement. There were also the financial penalties incurred if the engagement was broken, the bride-price, which must be forfeited—but it was the scorn of the community that would terrify Gaétan.
“It’s not unheard of. Dellerière had the same arrangement for his two daughters, remember?”
“Yes, I know.”
She released the curtain and turned to look at her husband. “Gaétan, it would quiet any gossip and it would rein her in. With an engagement ring upon her finger, Antonina will abandon whatever silly notions she has acquired. In the end, she will do what is proper.”
“She will. I am sure of it. It is not malice that moves her. She is an innocent child.”
Valérie did not say anything to this. Innocent child. Ha. That girl would be at a whorehouse if she did not have a disgusting amount of money in her coffers; indecency resided in every fiber of her being.
Valérie closed her eyes, recalling exactly what she had proposed to Hector and, more than that, the sting of his refusal.
“I shall write to Luc and explain we must meet with him,” she said, needing an excuse, needing to get away from Gaétan.
“Of course.”
Valérie might ordinarily have retreated to her conservatory, to walk among her flowers, but the violence she had inflicted upon the roses the day before was fresh on her mind. That space had been corrupted. Antonina had ruined even that. She was a poisonous creature.
She chose instead to go to her room.
Paper in hand, she scrawled a few sentences for Lémy.
Dear Mr. Lémy,
I have impressed upon Gaétan the need of arranging a betrothal between you and Antonina. It is of the utmost importance that you act swiftly. I believe Hector Auvray may otherwise ask for her hand in marriage before you do, rendering your efforts null. You must meet with Gaétan at once and be at your most charming with Antonina. You may be married before the end of the year, as you wanted.
He should be pleased about this, she thought as she signed the letter.
She was pleased, too, knowing the venture that they were pursuing could proceed. Nevertheless, she wished she could have married off Antonina to a repulsive codger instead of that golden boy.
She doesn’t deserve anything, she thought.
At least Antonina wouldn’t have Hector Auvray, and perhaps most important, Hector Auvray could see whatever notions of happiness he was attempting to thread together undone between his fingers. Valérie assumed that after the wedding, Luc Lémy would want to oversee the construction of the hotel. Valérie would recommend that he take Antonina with him to ensure she would not cross paths with Hector. Newlyweds should not be apart.
That would be the end of that tale, an aborted romance. In years to come, Antonina could look back and wonder about lost opportunities.
Valérie folded the letter and slid it into an envelope. The motion caused the shawl to slip from her pale shoulders, and she saw in the mirror her arms, the marks from the roses.
CHAPTER 17
She had not stepped inside Gaétan’s house since the past spring and now to be back, with Valérie sitting next to her cousin, was excruciating, especially considering the topic of their conversation. Nina had already suggested this matter might be discussed between Gaétan and her alone, but he had brushed the comment away. Valérie remained with them.
“I asked Mr. Lémy for time,” Nina said, unable to disguise the irritation in her voice.
“It is not Luc who has called for this meeting,” Gaétan told her firmly. “It is I.”
Nina sat in the armchair, quiet. The drawing room was brightly lit, but there was no warmth in this place. Even her cousin acted coldly.
“I have written to your mother, and she agrees with me that Luc Lémy is a suitable, well-bred young man. I see no reason to deny him your hand in marriage. However, I shan’t force the matter. Suffice it to say we have spoken and he is enthused with the idea. If you’d like to speak to him first, if it would help, I can call for him. He awaits in the library.”
“Cousin, in my heart I do not know whether marriage to Luc Lémy is the best for me.”
“Nina, your mother and I agree this marriage would suit you fine.”
“If the matter has been thus resolved, why even bother asking?” she said, her voice rising. “Print the invitations and be done with it!”
Gaétan looked most displeased. Her cousin was of a rather positive disposition. Nina had no idea what could have him in this state and why he looked at her harshly. Did he think her spoiled? It was her second Grand Season and he had been sure she’d be engaged during her first one, but that could not possibly be it.
“I realize now I have been too indulgent with you,” Gaétan said. “I should have made you a match from the beginning.”
“Cousin—”
“Why don’t you fetch Luc?” Valérie suggested, turning to her husband and interrupting Nina. “Formalities may be formalities, but perhaps these matters are best discussed by the youths themselves.”
“Yes, yes, indeed,” Gaétan agreed.
He stepped out, leaving Valérie and Nina alone. Gaétan had never spoken to her like this. They’d had disagreements, but her cousin was kind, generous. Nina was wounded by his attitude. But was she the one in the wrong? Wasn’t Nina supposed to do the bidding of her elders, of the head of the family?
“That went poorly,” Valérie said.
The woman was more than pleased. She was practically purring. Nina did not look at Valérie, but she felt her sardonic gaze all the same like a suffocating mantle.