The Beautiful Ones - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,108

and I cannot be tardy,” she replied, and though she looked surprised, she managed to sound utterly firm in her intent.

“Not until you explain what has brought about this change in you. I thought we were friends again,” he replied.

Nina stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. She sounded more hurt than angry. “Can you truly be this brazen?” she asked.

“If by brazen, you mean I enjoy knowing what kind of wrong I’ve committed, yes,” he said. And he was being ill-mannered and she’d think him vulgar, but he could not let her leave without an answer.

“You lied to me, again.”

“I do not understand.”

She walked as quickly as she spoke, her eyes fixed resolutely ahead of herself. “Valérie has told me how you have pledged your love to her, after you told me she no longer held a place in your heart. Well, the both of you can be happy, knotted in each other’s embrace, like the pair of snakes you are, for I refuse to play whatever sick game you wish to play with me.”

Nina attempted to cross the street, but he caught her arm and pulled her back.

“I play no games. Whatever Valérie said is a lie.”

“I will not believe you this time,” she said, shoving him away with a push of her talent.

He was not prepared for this, and it forced him to step back three paces. If their conversation had not been blistering, he might have congratulated her on the honing of her skills.

Undeterred, he followed her, his voice growing more gruff. “You must, I speak the truth. Valérie came to see me two weeks ago, demanding that I stop speaking to you—and when I refused, she left in a rage. Whatever poison she has poured into your veins is born of spite.”

She stopped and leaned against a tree, turning her head and looking at him.

“She wants to set you against me. Don’t you see that?” he told her, and he despised the anxiety that made him sound like a dunce.

“Why is she doing this?” Nina asked.

She was uncertain and young. He’d never realized how young she was. He knew the number of her years plainly, but it was not that; it was the inherent naivety that came with youth. He realized she had not stood a chance in Valérie’s presence and chided himself for not having spoken to her sooner.

“She wants you to marry Luc Lémy. She … sees me as an impediment toward that aim,” he said.

“Luc.”

Nina looked utterly frail, and he moved to her side, offering her his arm that she might steady herself. Her fingers tangled with his sleeve, and she had a breathless look, as if she’d been running.

“She has nothing to gain from my marriage,” Nina protested.

“I do not know why she is fixated on the idea, but I assure you it is what she wants. Nina—”

“I was not lying when I said I had an important appointment. I must go,” Nina declared, her voice low; he had to lean down close to hear the words.

His hand fell upon hers, and he clutched it tightly. “Nina, you mustn’t listen to her,” he insisted.

“It’s a terribly important appointment.”

“Nina.”

She raised her head and stared at him. Her lips wavered, but only for a moment. She had a solemn look about her. “I have accepted Luc Lémy’s marriage proposal,” she said.

It was odd. Hector felt little when she said this—perhaps he had already imagined this might be the case. He stood, expressionless, before her and wanted to tell her, Say no more, I understand.

“He has bought an emerald ring for me, and there is to be a party at Gaétan’s home in a few days,” she said, and she was a lady, and she now addressed him with a sober voice. Not a girl, not at all. She’d found herself, found her place in Loisail. “I am supposed to go for the final fitting of my dress today. Now.”

He drew his hand back, his fingers sliding away from her own.

He could picture it already: Luc Lémy in his finest clothes, looking triumphant as everyone raised a glass for a toast. Nina, demure and pretty in an evening gown, blushing as her fiancé placed a kiss on her cheek for all to see. And the ring, it would no doubt be ostentatious, a heavy stone that would allow Luc Lémy to congratulate himself, which would let the world know that she was his own.

She who wanted beetles instead of rings, because Hector