Nina attempted to cross the street, but he caught her arm and pulled her back.
“I play no games. Whatever Valérie said is a lie.”
“I will not believe you this time,” she said, shoving him away with a push of her talent.
He was not prepared for this, and it forced him to step back three paces. If their conversation had not been blistering, he might have congratulated her on the honing of her skills.
Undeterred, he followed her, his voice growing more gruff. “You must, I speak the truth. Valérie came to see me two weeks ago, demanding that I stop speaking to you—and when I refused, she left in a rage. Whatever poison she has poured into your veins is born of spite.”
She stopped and leaned against a tree, turning her head and looking at him.
“She wants to set you against me. Don’t you see that?” he told her, and he despised the anxiety that made him sound like a dunce.
“Why is she doing this?” Nina asked.
She was uncertain and young. He’d never realized how young she was. He knew the number of her years plainly, but it was not that; it was the inherent naivety that came with youth. He realized she had not stood a chance in Valérie’s presence and chided himself for not having spoken to her sooner.
“She wants you to marry Luc Lémy. She … sees me as an impediment toward that aim,” he said.
“Luc.”
Nina looked utterly frail, and he moved to her side, offering her his arm that she might steady herself. Her fingers tangled with his sleeve, and she had a breathless look, as if she’d been running.
“She has nothing to gain from my marriage,” Nina protested.
“I do not know why she is fixated on the idea, but I assure you it is what she wants. Nina—”
“I was not lying when I said I had an important appointment. I must go,” Nina declared, her voice low; he had to lean down close to hear the words.
His hand fell upon hers, and he clutched it tightly. “Nina, you mustn’t listen to her,” he insisted.
“It’s a terribly important appointment.”
“Nina.”
She raised her head and stared at him. Her lips wavered, but only for a moment. She had a solemn look about her. “I have accepted Luc Lémy’s marriage proposal,” she said.
It was odd. Hector felt little when she said this—perhaps he had already imagined this might be the case. He stood, expressionless, before her and wanted to tell her, Say no more, I understand.
“He has bought an emerald ring for me, and there is to be a party at Gaétan’s home in a few days,” she said, and she was a lady, and she now addressed him with a sober voice. Not a girl, not at all. She’d found herself, found her place in Loisail. “I am supposed to go for the final fitting of my dress today. Now.”
He drew his hand back, his fingers sliding away from her own.
He could picture it already: Luc Lémy in his finest clothes, looking triumphant as everyone raised a glass for a toast. Nina, demure and pretty in an evening gown, blushing as her fiancé placed a kiss on her cheek for all to see. And the ring, it would no doubt be ostentatious, a heavy stone that would allow Luc Lémy to congratulate himself, which would let the world know that she was his own.
She who wanted beetles instead of rings, because Hector was convinced Luc Lémy knew nothing about Nina.
“Congratulations are in order, then,” he said mildly.
“Congratulations,” she repeated.
He averted his eyes. “I am sorry I troubled you. You have an important appointment, as you’ve said.”
“Yes, I need to go.”
She did. He did not even watch her walk away. Hands in his pockets, he stared down at the tufts of grass growing by the tree.
He’d wasted a morning on this silly business, and he had to make up for it; he decided he must head to the theater immediately. There were many matters to attend to. But when Hector slipped into a carriage, he felt so utterly exhausted, as if he’d performed two shows in a row, all the energy in his body drained, that he could do nothing but sit back and close his eyes.
“Boniface,” he told the driver.
When he got home, he peeled off his coat, his jacket, and tossed them on a chair.
He had not had a proper breakfast in his haste. That was what was amiss. He thought to go to the kitchen and fetch himself food, but halfway there he stopped and it hit him, like a knife thrust in his back.
It was despair. Despair he had not thought he could ever feel.
He placed both hands on his long table and pressed down on the wood until it began to splinter under his fingers.
He turned his head and caught sight of himself in a round mirror hanging on the wall, this beautiful gilded creation with a wreath of flowers serving as its frame. He gritted his teeth and made it shatter, pieces of glass tumbling to the floor because he could not abide his reflection.
The man in the mirror was not him. It could not be him because that man looked like a fool, hunched over in pain, and years ago he had decided, in the quiet of a bare, cold room, that this could never, ever be him. That he was the great Hector Auvray, performer extraordinaire, and it was wonderful being that Hector Auvray who loved Valérie Véries because as long as he was that man, he was safe.
There was certainty there.
He raised his hands from the table.
I am too old for this nonsense, he thought.
This, this, whatever this was. He did not even dare to think the word.
CHAPTER 19
It was the season of Valérie’s delight. Like an industrious bee, she made preparations for Nina’s engagement party, which would be held at her house. This was supposed to be a joint mission between Valérie and Gaétan, but he naturally relegated these matters to his wife, and was happy to see the pleasure she derived from these activities. He ascribed the smile on Valérie’s face to her fondness for Antonina and did not suspect Valérie’s good cheer stemmed from a dark portion of her heart.
The preparations were, to Valérie, like beautiful bricks upon a rising wall that would enclose Antonina. Flowers had been bought, invitations were distributed, the reporter and photographer from the leading newspaper in the city were summoned. Each detail that was taken care of assured the girl could not retreat.
Valérie, astute as always, guessed that idle minds could wander into unwanted waters, and arranged to keep Antonina busy during this time, the precious few weeks it would take to seal her fate. There was first of all the matter of the selection and fitting of the engagement ring, which was followed by a quick, light toast at a restaurant, Gaétan and Valérie smiling kindly at the young couple from across the table. Then there was a dress that must be ordered and adjusted, the arrival of Nina’s mother and her sister from the countryside so that Nina and Luc were advised to meet them at the train station, the lunch between the parents of the groom and the mother of the bride, and a myriad of other items.
Gaétan told the couple to begin considering the items they might want to place on their wedding registry, since the registry must be opened immediately after the engagement was announced. Country bumpkins might exhibit any gift that came in a week before the wedding in their parlor, but the elites had taken with gusto to the new custom of having all their purchases picked from one appropriate venue; nobody wanted to end up with an inferior silver epergne or gaudy porcelain for their friends to chuckle at. That meant not one, but two days perusing the department stores downtown. The result was that Nina was caught in a whirlwind of activity, and more often than not, Luc Lémy kept perpetual guard at her side. Only on the matter of the dress was he absent; it would not have been fitting for a man to accompany a lady while she had measuring tape wrapped around her bosom.