Page 62 of The Beautiful Ones

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“I am sorry,” Luc said.

“It was a child’s fancy, anyway.” Nina raised a hand and pressed it against her chest. She lowered her lashes so that he might not take the measure of her gaze.

Luc nodded and lifted her free hand, pressing a kiss against it. “I am in luck, then, since I can cast my net and see if I may catch the prettiest girl in the city.”

She raised her eyes, frowning. Her hand rested firm and slender between his, yet she did not understand. “Are you jesting? I like your jokes, but this one would not be in good taste,” she said.

“It’s no joke. How could I joke about this? I don’t think there’s anyone fairer than you.”

Perhaps she’d grown wiser or maybe it was the heat of the day that irritated her, but she was not enraptured by his words as he might have expected.

“Hush,” she said, rising quickly to her feet. “I am sure you meet many beautiful girls.”

Her heart, which had been placid, resting on dark velvet like the insects she collected, now began to beat wildly, though not for the young man next to her. Her thoughts, traitorous, flew toward another man, one who had never spoken words of flattery or love to her. And she was angered, thinking that he had not done it and now another would.

“What?” he asked, looking baffled.

“Exactly that. I’m naive, but not so naive that I cannot tell when a phrase has been said a thousand times before to others. Whatever game this is, I will not grow flustered and melt in your arms,” she told him.

It seemed to her that indeed it must be a game, a ridiculous prank that had been set in motion by them all, and she went toward the motorcar.

“Wait, wait,” he said, rushing to her side. “I do not know what you are going on about. I was trying to be charming, but I mean no harm. Come, now, don’t be angry at me.”

She crossed her arms upon her chest, staring down at the grass. Her ears were roaring as if she were standing by the seashore.

“Nina, are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m sick of people lying to me,” she blurted. “People keep lying to me, and if what you want is to toy with me for an hour or two, please pick someone else. I thought you might be a friend.”

“I am a friend. Please. I say silly things sometimes, but I don’t think it was that bad. I’ll tell you that you are the ugliest lady in Loisail from now on. Happy?” he asked, and his voice was cheery.

She looked at him. He was all sunny disposition and blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t be cross with you.”

“No, you are right, I am a bit of a lout at times. Maybe Hector told you a few stories, but I can be gallant,” he said.

At the mention of Hector’s name, she swallowed and shook her head. The sun had hidden its face, shrouded suddenly in clouds.

“I don’t think it was a child’s fancy, was it?” Luc asked gravely.

“I mistook politeness for affection,” she said. “I saw things that were not there, and do not wish to deceive myself again.”

He grabbed both her hands this time and he graciously bent his head over them, placing another kiss on the back of them and giving her an earnest look. “There’s something here, Miss Beaulieu.”

Flustered after all, she dipped her chin. A butterfly flitted by and perched itself on Luc Lémy’s head, white upon his dark cap. The sight made her smile.

“Don’t move, there’s a butterfly on your head.”

“Oh dear,” he said, and he did move. The butterfly flew away.

“It was a cabbage butterfly,” she told him. “It’s one of the first butterflies that emerge in the spring. They fly around during spring and summer, even into the fall until the hard freeze.”

“Ah, bugs,” Luc said, taking off the cap and running a hand through his hair. “No, can’t say I like them.”

“It’s not a bug, Mr. Lémy. It’s a butterfly.”

“It has tiny legs and crawls around,” he said, making motions with his fingers in imitation of a crawling insect.