The Beautiful Ones - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,125
the ground. You will face each other at a distance of twenty paces and discharge your weapons at each other.”
Twenty paces was a rather standard measure, but it still sounded awful. Not so bad as six, which would have assured death for the contenders, but Hector knew that Luc could shoot straight and accurately at twenty. As for himself, Hector had handled a pistol on scarce occasions. He had a steady grip and counted himself cool and composed under pressure; he must trust that these two virtues would suffice.
“Luc would like to have the duel tomorrow at six in the morning on the Lawn behind Clocktower Hill.”
“Will he shoot with the intent to kill?” Nina asked as she set down a tray with cups and a teapot on the table between them, the cutlery clattering because her hands were trembling.
Étienne smiled, his voice light, though he could not fool Hector. “I hope not—it is difficult for me to make new friends. What tea is this?”
Though deflected, the question hung in the air between them, and soon Hector told Nina that he needed to go with Étienne to take care of certain arrangements, promising he would return to sup with her. The dark fear that they had evaded that morning now rubbed itself against their legs, but Hector shooed it away, placing a kiss upon Nina’s cheek.
Outside, there was a strong wind blowing, and Hector grabbed the brim of his hat to ensure it would not go flying away as they walked from the apartment building.
“Tell me the truth, now that she cannot hear us: Will he shoot to kill?” Hector asked gravely.
Étienne hesitated. “I tried to tell Luc this was silly and amends could be made, but my brother is stubborn.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“When we left your home together, that is the angriest I’ve ever seen him,” Étienne said. “He has not only lost a woman, he seems to think he’s lost a business proposition.”
“You mean to say he wanted Nina for her money,” Hector replied.
“Possibly. I am not sure. He did not tell me any details—it is all I could surmise, and it is not as if we are speaking now. Anything I’ve heard since yesterday has been communicated through Gaétan, since that is the role of seconds.”
Hector felt offended. He could understand the irrevocable passion of youth and the rawness of anger, but the thought that all this was because Luc felt cheated out of a bank account made everything worse.
His shoulders tensed, and Étienne glanced at him, a crease forming between his brows. The day was bright and cheery, birds chirping in the trees, but it all felt chilly to Hector, as if winter had suddenly arrived and chased any possible warmth from the city.
“You must not judge him too harshly. He is brash, he always has been. He’s also spoiled. It is our fault, we coddle and taunt him at turns. And he is the youngest of us, facing a more difficult path.”
“For money, Étienne,” Hector said.
Étienne stuffed his hands in his pockets. He sounded ashamed as he spoke. “Nothing matters more than money to us, the Beautiful Ones who walk down these city streets in pristine gloves and silk-lined garments. You can give yourself the luxury of love because you are not one of us. That is why you are my friend: because despite everything, at heart you remain an innocent.”
Étienne clasped Hector’s shoulder, and they both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at each other’s face.
“You will not shoot to kill, will you?” Étienne asked.
“You know I wouldn’t,” Hector said.
He had thought to shoot Luc in the leg or the arm, if he had the chance, though realistically that “if” was but a faint possibility that grew fainter in his mind with each passing minute. He felt like death was his shadow that day, lovingly licking each one of his steps.
“Accompany me to the notary public, then, and afterward you can select the pistols,” Hector said. “I do not need to look at them. I know they will be fine, whatever you decide upon.”
“What are we doing there?”
“You are witnessing my last will and testament.”
“Hector, please.”
“You are my friend, as you say. To you falls this grim business.”
The matter of the will went smoothly. He left Dufren in charge of settling his business affairs, all accounts to be paid properly, and a fee for his services. To Étienne he gifted several of his paintings. To Nina went everything else.