In this pleasant mood, Valérie was able to appreciate the adorable picture the both of them presented as they stood in the drawing room, cooing and holding the boxes bearing their gifts, showing them to Camille and Madelena, who made appreciative comments. Luc’s hand rested onthe small of Nina’s back, and when she raised her head, his blue eyes monopolized her. Silly Nina smiled tremulously back at her husband-to-be, whispering a word to him.
They set the boxes down on a table, and Gaetan gave Nina a hug, Luc a pat on the back. More smiles, more cooing, but as Valérie sat there, resting lazily against the sofa, she saw the box with the diamond head comb slide slightly to the left.
Nina’s gaze had been lowered, and she was staring at her hands, pensive, with a mystifying stillness that irritated Valérie because it hinted at hidden depths, secrets, and more than that, when she used her talent, it reminded Valérie of Hector.
Was she thinking of him?
Valérie had thought of Hector before her own wedding when, instead of throwing away the ring he gave her as she’d promised herself, she had instead secreted it off, assuring it would remain with her for the rest of her life.
Antonina’s eyes, did they look haunted? Did they look sad? Had Valérie ever glimpsed that same expression in her own mirror?
She hated thinking she had anything in common with Antonina, but they both did share a past with Hector.
Valérie mentally corrected herself—sheshared a past with Hector. Antonina had experienced nothing except an illusion.
Camille spoke to her daughter, and the girl smiled again.
Valérie’s chin quivered, but she told herself not to indulge in paranoia. The engagement was imminent. A little more, a precious handful of days and Nina would be as good as married to Luc Lémy.
It was her fate, her only path, as once it had been Valérie’s fate to marry Gaetan, that dull, sorry, and wealthy man her family had fawned upon. Valérie had marched forward like a soldier, dressed in white, clutching a bouquet in her hands. She’d said her vows and danced at her wedding party, and never once did she let the satisfied mask she wore slip. Nina would, must, do the same.
Chapter 20
THE MIRROR DID NOT ORDINARILYtell Nina she was beautiful. She knew herself—and most people reaffirmed this—passably pretty when she was at her best. Considerable effort, however, had been put toward her hair and dress that day.
The couturier at first had been ready to throw a fit, saying a dress for such an occasion could not be finished in a short time frame, but the item had been delivered with a day to spare. Her evening gown was aquamarine chiffon with a printed floral pattern, embroidered with glass beads, a sash at her waist. It bared her shoulders, made her look airy, and had been strategically calculated to contrast with her emerald engagement ring. Ordinarily the ring would have been bestowed at the end of the party, but Luc wanted all of Loisail to see her wearing his gift and had insisted that she put it on the moment she went downstairs.
She looked beautiful, then, with pearls in her ears—her mother’s gift—a diamond hair comb from Gaetan, and her emerald ring upon her finger. She was the princess in storybooks, the embodiment of every girlish fantasy she’d ever had.
She felt, however, as if she were drowning, thrashing her legs in a futile attempt to remain afloat. She reproached herself for this—she had no business feeling like that when she should be laughing.
The door to the room opened, and Madelena peeked her head inside. “Nina? The guests are starting to arrive. Luc needs you downstairs with him to receive them.”
It was supposed to be a small party, but the guest list kept growing and it had been quickly decided—Gaetan and Valérie were doing the planning—it must be hosted at Gaetan’s home since they needed to accommodate Luc’s parents, his brothers and their wives, and a number of friends and associates whose names Nina did not recognize but who were deemed essential. A newspaper writer and a photographer fromThe Courierwere even in attendance, to report on the event and take a picture of the groom- and bride-to-be. Gaetan had told her this gathering would be the golden brooch that would close the Grand Season.
“The costume ball of the Sertis’ won’t have that honor this year,” her cousin opined, and though Nina had tried to tell them she would have preferred an intimate gathering, Luc sided with Gaetan and Valérie. A larger party it was.
“How nice you look,” Madelena said, walking in and setting her hands on Nina’s shoulders. “Are you ready?”
Nina had been ready for nearly half an hour. She had arrived early with her great-aunts and rushed upstairs to one of Gaetan’s guest rooms to change. The lady’s maid had helped her into her dress, fussed with her hair, and Nina had spent many minutes staring at her reflection.
“One more minute.”
“Luc will be beside himself when he sees you. And Mother is incredibly proud.”
“I’m sure,” Nina muttered.
Everyone was gushing with praise for Luc. He looked incredibly fine! His family was well connected!
“Such a nice match,” her sister said.
“Yes,” Nina replied, standing up. There could be no more dallying.
When Nina entered the ballroom, Luc hurried to her side and took her arm, kissing her on the cheek. They stood like that together, smiling as the guests streamed in, costly flowers arranged behind them for best effect. She had difficulty placing names and faces, but Luc knew everyone and could recall a detail about each person. Nina had to extend her hand many times to show off her ring and intone its provenance. Duveras, naturally, Luc would say, and Nina smiled.
Luc looked more than handsome, nearly perfect. He wore a black jacket and a blue watered-silk waistcoat, lavishly embroidered. He also wore a proud expression, his blond head raised high. And why shouldn’t he be proud? Nina could see flashes of admiration, even jealousy, in the attendees’ eyes, and for once the ladies and gentlemen whispering to each other were not pointing out something Nina had done wrong, but everything she’d done right.
After the bulk of the guests had arrived, they set to walking around the room, milling with strangers. Nina wanted to dance. When she’d pictured this moment as a girl—and she’d pictured it often, the whirlwind romance, the engagement party with exquisite music and distinguished guests—she’d focused on the dance.
