Gaetan handed him a glass and smiled. Hector thought he had a stupid smile. A rather uncharitable rumination.
“As you may be aware, this is Nina’s first season in the city. It is an important time in a young woman’s life. Many people to meet and sights to see.”
“I can imagine.”
“Yes. I am glad she has made a new friend, and as I said, she speaks highly of you. Yet I must admit hesitation on my part when she mentioned your name. You see, you’ve been far afield for so long, you are almost like a… well, a foreigner. A bit of a mystery, which no doubt Nina finds interesting, but I myself must be cautious. A man’s reputation is his calling card, and you have no card to speak of. I don’t think I even know where your family is from.”
“I am from Treman, Mr. Beaulieu. My family can’t vouch for a name or estate,” Hector said, his voice harder than he’d intended.
“What does your father do?”
“Both my parents are dead. I began performing when I was eight and have earned a wage that way for more than twenty years. I believe I’ve done well for myself in this time. I own the flat where I reside and two houses in the western countryside, plus many bonds, I have lost count of them. I have invested extensively in a number of ventures. I need not ever walk onstage again, though I enjoy it and therefore plan to continue performing.”
It was all true, even an understatement. He was as wealthy as any of Beaulieu’s friends. Perhaps not so wealthy as Beaulieu himself, though he was not fully aware of the man’s finances, but wealthy enough to dine in the same establishments he did, join the same gentlemen’s clubs, obtain invitations to the same parties. He’d soared to rare heights without the benefit of family or friends.
How he’d managed this in ten scant years was explained rather easily. Hector had been possessed. He’d felt it necessary to show Valérie he could achieve what he’d said he would do. To amass the fortune, the prestige they had dreamed about. Every step he took was inspired by the echo of that long-lost love. Even now, Hector knew he was still possessed. Perhaps even more than before.
What was he doing here, talking to this man, pretending cordiality? Étienne was right. It was a folly. But Hector did not make his way to thedoor. He sipped his brandy and held one hand behind his back, standing rather rigidly and looking at the numerous burgundy-leather-bound volumes lining the walls.
“Nina might have told you the name of our family’s home. It’s Oldhouse, for a reason. The Beaulieus have resided there for more than a century,” Gaetan informed him. “This is nothing compared to my wife’s family, but if you say ‘the Beaulieus of Oldhouse’ in Montipouret, everyone knows exactly of whom you speak. I gather it is not the case for the Auvrays of Treman.”
“I like to think I am unique and therefore cannot speak of ‘Auvrays.’ There is onlyoneAuvray,” Hector replied.
“That I think you are. Let me clarify. Mr. Auvray, I admire a man as successful as you, a man who clearly has wit and determination. Wit and drive, however, do not equal impeccable manners,” Gaetan said, pausing to take a sip of his brandy. “However, my wife seems to think you a perfect gentleman, and she is an excellent judge of character.”
Hector was surprised to hear Valérie had vouched for him. He’d thought she might hinder his efforts to insinuate himself into her household. Could this mean shewantedhim around? He looked down quickly at his drink.
“We would be happy to consider you a new friend, Mr. Auvray, and we most certainly welcome you into our home.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
“I do want to clarify one point. Nina is at an age to be courted. I can understand if you wish to be our friend, and Nina’s friend, and would presume no other interest in her on your behalf. If you do, however, intend to court my cousin, I would like to know it now. For one, I appreciate formalities.”
“I would not court Nina without your approval, Mr. Beaulieu,” he said, glancing up at Gaetan. “She seems to me a kind young woman, and if you are willing, I would most avidly like to court her.”
He could visit her all spring and all summer and well into the fall without an expectation of a marriage proposal, he thought. A whole year he might court her, and regardless he might gently retreat in the end. This he knew, though he understood little else. As Étienne had jested, he was rather green in this area. His courtship of Valérie had been a wild, quickaffair. It had left him breathless and dizzy with love. This would be different. He would be expected to proceed cautiously.
Gaetan cleared his throat. “There is one detail I should mention. You have no doubt heard already about Nina’s situation. She has a talent, similar to your own, I would think. I mention it because it has been a source of irritation to some people.”
“She told me she can’t always control it.”
“It is not a constant clanging of objects, though it once was. When she was a child, it proved more vexing. It does, however, occur like an involuntary movement. A reflex, if you might allow the comparison. I thought I should mention it.”
“As you said, it is a talent not unlike my own. She’ll probably have complete control of it in a couple of years. Even if she didn’t, it would not matter.”
“I am pleased to hear that. My wife will be delighted, too, I am sure.”
“I do not doubt it.”
“Nina is bright and charming, but people sometimes have the most ridiculous ideas in their heads.”
“She told me they called her a witch.”
“The Witch of Oldhouse,” Gaetan said, his face serious. “There was a boy in Montipouret who I thought might make a congenial match for her, but then I heard him using that name. I would not have allowed it.”
The way he spoke made Hector realize that while Gaetan was a pompous, pretentious fool, he did care about his family. Well, he cared about Nina. Could the same be said about his feelings for Valérie? They were distant during dinner. There was no animosity between them, but he could feel no bond joining them. He wondered if he could expect the same if he married Nina, this clear separation, this gap to lie between them. Did it matter? He did not seek love in her arms. It surprised him how nonchalant he could be when it came to this girl when once he’d loved another with unadulterated abandon.
It was perhaps impossible to love in the same manner again, and he thanked the heavens for this mercy.
