The Beautiful Ones - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,126

will was notarized, he shook Étienne’s hand and they agreed he would pick Hector up the next morning.

When they’d met, Hector would not have dreamed he would be facing the prospect of being murdered by the youngest brother of that careless youth he’d befriended during his travels. He could tell Étienne was thinking something similar, wondering how they’d arrived at this position.

On the way back, Hector bought fish, bread, and other ingredients at the market. He cooked dinner. To cheer Nina and to distract himself, he proposed they have a picnic inside their apartment, as she’d once suggested, one rainy day. He tossed a tablecloth on the floor, arranged the dishes upon it, poured wine into his finest glasses. She was amused by this, but the sun descended, and as the shadows stretched across the apartment, her anxiety returned.

She clutched her empty glass of wine between both hands, a desperate look in her eyes. “I should not have told Luc I would marry him,” Nina said. “I was upset and I foolishly let myself be talked into an engagement I did not truly want. Then I came to see you, in the middle of the night, and I should not have done that either.”

“I am glad you left the party and came to see me.”

“You are fighting a duel for me. You cannot be glad,” she protested.

He leaned forward; their foreheads almost touched. As he moved, his foot grazed the bottle of wine. It shook, but did not fall.

“When you knocked on my door, I was half-dead. I had spent days dragging my sorry carcass around my room, convinced I would not see you again and wishing I could tear the world apart for this injustice.”

He clutched her, the weight of his mouth against her shoulder and his arms around her, and she poured herself against him, forgetting it all, but reality sneaked in at length. Nina drew apart. She raised a hand and pressed it against her neck, as if it might keep her voice from trembling. It did not.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” she asked.

“I’m going to trust that Luc Lémy will inflict no lasting harm. Most duels don’t end in death, I’ve told you that, and twenty paces gives me a fair chance. Tomorrow I might be back before breakfast with only a scratch for you to look at.”

“You won’t have me wait for you here, will you?” she asked.

“I can’t have you with me.”

“What, am I to stay in bed, in terror, praying that nothing happens?”

“You are to stay in bed, asleep. And when I return, I can wrap my arms around you and lie at your side,” he said.

“Hector, don’t treat me like a fool.”

“I really need that. I need to know you are waiting for me at home. Please.”

She wanted to cry, he could tell. He had been performing all day, all the tricks to distract her, and he would not let the illusion crumble at the last minute. He kissed her. She turned her head, he ran his hand along the side of her face and she sighed.

He shifted his legs and accidentally sent the bottle of wine tumbling down. It would leave a stain on the tablecloth.

Nina giggled as he tried to undo the buttons of her dress. “Here?” she asked. “But the bed—”

“Books detailing the mating habits of beetles don’t explain everything, it seems.”

Her brows lifted in challenge, and her voice slid low, scraping his skin. “Oh, really?”

She sat on his lap, and they kissed for a long time. In the end, it was the bed after all because he liked the way her hair fanned against the pillows, and he wanted to look at her like that.

If it is the last time I look at her, Hector thought, and panic shot through him. Nina must have noticed, because she pulled him closer to her with a knowing determination.

He’d been performing, he’d been misdirecting, to distract Nina and spare her feelings, but in the end it was she who was the superior artist, making him forget himself. It was the look of wordless wonder on her face, truly. It undid him. He spent the rest of the night awake, her head resting heavy against his chest, but he was unafraid.

Once the time was right, Hector snatched the clothes he’d left on a chair and dressed quickly, in the dark. When he walked the length of his living room, a faint light filtering through one of the windows illuminated the