Hector Auvray had a chiseled face, and time had made him harder but more distinctive. There was nothing distinctive about her husband.
And Gaetan’s breath was sour. His teeth were bad. He had a peasant’s mouth.
At least Antonina would marry a handsome boy.
Maybe he won’t even count the seed pearls he gifts her,Valérie thought bitterly.
But let her have that blond youth, what did Valérie care? It was her family’s position that mattered, the fortune they might snag that tantalized her. Was this not what she had been meant to do? They’d sent Valérie out in the world to battle in their name, and like a conquering general, she would deliver them a new kingdom.
Gaetan turned off the lights. “He does bear a reputable name,” Gaetan said, now pulling up the covers and lying down, propping two pillows behind himself.
“It’s crucial that we support his efforts,” Valérie advised him. “You might have a word with Antonina in his behalf.”
“If you think it necessary.”
“Certainly,” Valérie said with a vigorous nod.
“Then I will.”
Victory assured, Valérie allowed herself to smile in the dark and laid her head against the pillow. Gaetan was soon fast asleep.
She did not have an easy time slipping into dreams. She’d accomplished much, yet she turned, restless. It was because Gaetan was there when she had wanted to be alone, she thought.
It was because of this.
But she kept thinking of Hector Auvray. It was as if by mentioning his name, Gaetan had conjured a demon, and Valérie could not order that linen be ironed and windows be washed to assuage herself. She could not walk to her garden and gaze proudly at her roses. She could not run her hands over her jewels, admiring the magnificent pearls Gaetan kept speaking about.
All she could do in the dark was remember what he looked like when she’d last seen him, when he’d leaned down to kiss her. A single kiss after many years.
And when they’d been younger and he’d curled his arm around her, brushing his lips against her hair. The way his voice sounded when he’d whispered against her ear. “Would you wait for me?”
She hadn’t.
He had.
He’d wait forever, she thought. Hemust.
At least she had this satisfaction.
In her bitterness, in that oppressive bed, she thought Antonina Beaulieu would not know this devotion. She had all the wealth Valérie had ever hungered for and she’d have that pretty boy, but no devotion.
Had I been given her wealth, I would have done as I pleased,Valérie thought.I would have waited.
She turned her head and closed her eyes.
She ought to have gone to the party, a place where there were lights and champagne, and she might admire herself in the mirror and think herself satisfied.
Chapter 7
THEHADUIERS’ HOUSE WAS TOOlarge, too bold to be considered genteel, and to make matters worse, Agnes had wallpapered it in a ghastly yellow that made visitors wince. But the Haduiers had a garden, which made up for their gaffes and served as a magnificent space for dancing under the open night sky. Many of the guests wandered around, glasses in hand, admiring the topiary, while the most adventurous sneaked into the hedge maze where a kiss or two would be exchanged.
Nina lingered in the sitting room, with its paintings of fruits and flowers on the walls—nothing matched here. Agnes had no taste, and where she should have opted for modern views of the city, she instead placed pedestrian compositions of bread and cheeses.
Four girls gathered around Nina, all of them in prim dresses, gloves on their hands. Nina had taken off her gloves because the business of manipulating objects with her talent was more difficult with them on.
Nina made the fan floating before her spin in slow concentric circles. It resembled a bird in its movements, rather than an inanimate object, and one of the girls squealed in delight at the sight of it. Nina reached out and the fan stopped, sliding into her hand. Nina smiled at the girls.
“How odd!” one of the girls said. “How interesting!”
