He could not possibly retire until nine o’clock. The only reasonable course of action at this point was to wait there until he could perform a proper exit without seeming rude. Unable to stand the music and the chatter, he escaped to the library, which was gloriously empty, its furniture decorated with a profusion of brass inlays, the bookcases primly protected with glass doors. Beaulieu had been taken ill and would not be in attendance, which came as a shock to the women since Valérie Beaulieu’s missing the opening of the season seemed unthinkable.Īll his plans in tatters, the whole reason for his attendance at the ball suddenly vanishing, Hector did not know what to do with himself.
But Hector had not been long at his post when he heard a couple of ladies commenting that Mrs. In his excitement, he arrived unfashionably early, not wishing to miss Valérie, and after greeting his host had positioned himself strategically so that he could watch every elegant guest who entered the vast ballroom. White gloves and mother-of-pearl studs completed the ensemble. Hector had dressed according to the weight of the occasion in a new double-breasted black dress coat, white shirt, and a white bow tie. He had no direct connection to the De Villiers-or hardly anyone else in Loisail, for that matter, having spent the past ten years abroad-but he did know Étienne Lémy, who was able to secure him an invitation. He was glad to discover she was in Loisail and, moreover, that she would be at the ball thrown by the De Villiers. The first thing he’d done upon disembarking was to make discreet inquiries about the whereabouts of the lady. He knew no one here except for Étienne and Luc, and he was waiting with breathless expectation for the arrival of Valérie Beaulieu. He had attended many glittering balls, but none in this city. The revelers might as well have been wild animals ready to tear off a chunk of his flesh.Īs Hector watched from a corner of the room, ladies and gentlemen partnered to dance, women fanned themselves and smiled, and men greeted each other with a tilt of the head. Hector was like a castaway who had washed up on a room of velvet curtains and marble floors.