“You will have me walk around Loisail, people murmuring I am related to a common whore?”
“You will mind your mouth, Valérie,” he said, raising his voice. “I am tired and so are you. Save any words for the morning, and make sure they are more measured.”
Valérie lay back, her body feeling as if it were encased in iron. If she’d had the means, she would have stabbed the girl in the heart a thousand times. She’d thrice wronged Valérie: the business venture was spoiled, they’d be the laughingstock of the city, and Antonina would marry Hector.
She was stealing everything from Valérie, even the ground beneath her feet.
It will not go unpunished,she thought, furious. If Gaetan expected to reward that monster with a quiet courthouse wedding to Hector Auvray, he was wrong.
Once Gaetan snored away, Valérie grabbed her robe and went in search of Luc Lémy.
At the first knock, he opened the door, obviously as awake as she was. “What do you want?” he asked, his manners forgotten. His breath was heavy with alcohol and the scent of tobacco.
“I want to know if you are bold enough to finish what you started,” she replied.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“Do you desire that hotel of yours? It is within your grasp. We told everyone Antonina was sick, and there is no reason why we cannot keep telling that tale, then have you marry her as quickly as we can. I’m sure you’ll profit even more. Gaetan will give you all the money you may want, both to placate you and in a gesture of gratitude.”
There was no doubt in her mind this would be the case. Gaetan was soft, weak. A man with more mettle might have dragged Antonina out of Hector’s house by her hair and beat her bloody before disowning her. But dear Gaetan, he could not even do this right. He could not even muster sufficient outrage.
Luc could, infused with the bravado of youth. She saw the fire in his eyes, that naked hatred swimming there. He was a ready ax, and all Valérie had to do was swing it.
“Even if I thought this a good plan, I doubt Auvray is going to happily allow me to wed her,” Luc said.
“He can’t wed her without her mother’s consent. She is not yet twenty-one. The law is clear on this point.”
“Consent that she is sure to grant. It is but a trifle, a signature on a piece of paper.”
“Which means your problem is Hector Auvray.”
Luc had been holding the door open a fraction, but now he opened it wider and stepped into the hallway as if to get closer to her, perhaps fearing their voices might be heard.
He whispered to her. “What are you suggesting?”
“Kill him,” she said.
The words were sweet, they dissolved like sugar in her mouth, and she savored them. Nourished with hate, she continued speaking.
“Challenge him to a duel in the morning, do not let your brother broker a peace between you, as I am sure he intends,” she said.
“And risk getting shot?”
“I know you to be a huntsman. Is your aim adequate?”
“Excellent.”
“Then you have nothing to fear. Aim for the heart. With Hector Auvray dead, Gaetan will want to put this whole mess behind us, and you will have yourself a bride.”
She could see her words were having the intended effect on Luc. His rage was now laced with greed, a powerful combination. And he was foolhardy. The fuse had been lit. He would explode.
“If she repulses you now in her soiled state, you need not touch her. Except to put a couple of children in her womb, that might be advisable. Otherwise, you may do as you please,” Valérie said, thinking perhaps this point was holding him back. But he hardly seemed to listen to her when she mentioned it.
Perhaps the silly boy had cared for her. In his mind, this might well be a rescue, Antonina playing the role of the poor maiden who is held in the claws of an ogre.
“He has dishonored her and dishonored you. He wants to make a fool out of all of us. Do not let him,” she said.
“I warned him to stay away from her,” Luc said.
