The Beautiful Ones - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,13

the world that demonstrate love need not be a condition of a successful marriage. You might agree on this point.”

Valérie fixed her lofty eyes on him, anger coloring her cheeks. She began walking again, resolutely. “If you want to make a fool of yourself, then be my guest,” she said. “For this is sheer foolishness.”

Valérie was right. It was foolish, perhaps. But Nina would allow him to have access to this household. His love of Valérie was vicious. It gripped him utterly. He had to see her, had to speak to her, and if this was the way, then let it be. At turns he thought he might be able to spirit Valérie away if only they could share a little time together. Then he changed his mind; he decided that he could remain the chivalrous gentleman, merely loving her from afar. The latter appealed to his sense of romanticism.

Hector prepared to elucidate these notions and quickly gave up when he looked at Valérie.

He sighed and shook his head softly. “It would be good to have a friend. An accomplice, a partner. I’ve been traveling for a long time, Valérie. You cannot possibly understand how tiring it is,” he whispered.

They had arrived at the door and he had fetched his hat and coat, so there was no reason to dally, but rather than ejecting him, Valérie simply stared at Hector. She reminded him of a lioness who has not decided if it will let itself be tamed or tear its master to shreds.

“I can understand,” she said, her voice softening again.

Her hands were hidden in her skirts, but he reached out and grazed her fingers. He moved one step closer to her, pressing his lips against her hand, a gesture he had withheld in the drawing room for fear of betraying himself. But they were alone now, and the wild beating of his heart did not matter. When he released her, Valérie did not drift away, instead shifting closer to him, the space between them almost disappearing.

“Bring Nina to the Royal next Friday. You can both watch the show.”

“I’ve no interest in the show.”

“In some conversation after it, then.”

“Not in any conversation with you,” she replied, her voice honeyed.

He knew she was playing with him, as she’d done when they first met, masterfully teasing and flirting and driving him insane. He’d allow it. He was playing, too.

Hector inclined his head.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Auvray?” she asked, her hand upon the door.

“Nothing, for the time being. I’ll send an invitation for the Royal. I trust you will be there.”

He took his leave with that, not bothering to look back when he heard the door close behind him.

CHAPTER 5

Valérie Beaulieu opened her jewelry box and riffled through its contents until she found the ring. Gold with a single pearl, a pattern of scallops decorating the band. It was not worth anything and it did not compare to the rest of Valérie’s jewelry. She had gold-and-enamel earrings, a beautiful double-strand pearl necklace with a sapphire, a necklace of rich garnets, and a bracelet with the most dazzling diamonds. The ring, which she kept at the bottom of her jewelry box, was ugly in comparison to the other items she owned.

Yet she kept this ring because Hector had given it to her.

She had met him in Frotnac. It was the hottest spring in many years, and more than one distinguished family had fled the capital before the end of the Grand Season in search of a cooler locale. Frotnac, situated to the north, was the chosen destination for most of them. Valérie stayed with her friend Miranda Oclou, and Miranda’s distracted mother.

Valérie’s family was not what it had once been. The house, majestic at the height of the Véries’ power, had become a tired relic. Jewelry, paintings, and even furniture were sold through the years to keep the family fed. Friends and relatives provided a measure of support, yet loans remained unpaid and everyone shook their heads sadly when they saw Valérie walk by. What could be expected of her? they prattled. A young lady of meager means would have a hard time attracting serious suitors. Picture her trousseau!

Despite everything, decorum must be maintained. Valérie’s family was strict, and her grandmother demanded blind obedience to the old rules. She learned to play the piano and to sing, how to converse and dance, all the courtesies of a woman of her station even if her station was nebulous.

But Frotnac was far from

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