The Beautiful Ones - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,97

drink and be merry every day if you’re busy running a hotel,” she replied, but with a smile.

“Bah! I’ll hire someone to run it for me, but we,” he said, rising to his feet and helping Nina up, “you and I, we can have fun.”

“One day, in Treviste.”

“This summer,” he said, and his aloof face grew serious. “Nina, I wish to speak to your cousin.”

“Luc, please don’t. Please wait,” she said, knowing he meant to ask for her hand in marriage. Gaétan would in turn ask her what she thought of the matter, and Nina did not know what she would say.

He had slipped an arm around her waist and bent down, breathing against her neck. “Wait why?”

“Please wait.”

“I’ll die if I wait,” he told her.

He sounded like the men in her books, but she grasped his hands and held them tight. “I want to think,” she said.

Nina knew this wasn’t right, that they kept pressing back and forth, like the current, and one of these days, she was going to be swept away, but she didn’t know what else to do. She wavered and she considered, and Madelena in her letter asked, But do you love him? and Nina could not say. She could not.

CHAPTER 14

Nina had sent Hector a short, polite missive, asking if he would be available to have tea. He almost wanted to say, I’ll cook you dinner instead, but that was impossible—she could not visit him in his home, her journey to the theater had been bold enough already. It was not that he disliked tea, but it had occurred to him that it would have been nice if it were the both of them tangled in conversation, as in Oldhouse, when they went by the stream and gathered insects. The world had felt small, and he thought of what she’d looked like in the tower with her hair cascading down her shoulders.

He dismissed that memory, the kiss they’d shared. He did not wish to overstep boundaries. He also didn’t like the way his pulse stirred when he remembered her.

Hector donned his overcoat with the black velvet collar and stepped outside. A light spring drizzle fell upon his shoulders, and by the time he reached the café, raindrops nestled in the folds of his coat. He ought to have taken his umbrella. He eschewed a hat, and when he walked into the tearoom, he ran a hand through his damp hair.

The tearoom was one of those narrow establishments found along Acadia Lane, right across from the river that divided Three Bridges Quarter. The tearoom occupied the ground level, a seamstress operated on the second one, and living quarters were found on the third and fourth levels. Hector made his way inside, past the gleaming counter showcasing scones and biscuits, and spotted Nina.

She had tucked herself in a large, comfortable chair and held up a book between her hands, absorbed in her reading. In front of her there was a low table, and on top of this a yellow teapot and two cups, slices of lemon, and sugar cubes set in blue-and-white dishes.

“Good day,” he said.

“Hector,” she said, and smiled at him. “You are never tardy, are you?”

“Should I be?”

“No, it’s … Luc is always ten minutes late,” she said. She blushed and put the book aside, gesturing to the teapot. “Do you fancy a cup?”

He nodded and he watched her hands, the slim wrist with a silver bracelet, as she poured the tea and then with a hint of mischief, made a sugar cube rise and roll into his cup with a tiny plop.

“You do it well now,” he said.

“Sometimes,” she said, “and sometimes the talent has a mind of its own, but less so these days.”

She stirred her tea, looking melancholic, the splash of rain against the windowpanes amplifying the effect. What’s on your mind, Nina? he wanted to ask, but he was afraid to know the answer. He raised his cup to his lips.

“I’m thinking of leaving Loisail,” she said, as if she’d perceived his silent question.

“The Grand Season has not ended,” he replied.

“I know. I may cut it short.”

Hector nodded. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing. Anyone, looking from the outside in, would say everything is perfect.”

The rain made the street hazy; it distorted it. The shop was empty save for a man who was half-asleep in a corner and the employee behind the counter. In this cocoon of warmth, they sat close.

He took off his gloves. “I think I’d miss you if you were