Hotel Magnifique(46)

I knew wealthy guests left her tips. She had some means. “You could purchase a pretty dress and quit your ogling.”

“I don’t need one now.”

“But I thought you wanted to impress a certain suminaire?”

Last week, Béatrice had strolled into the kitchens with swollen lips and a secretive smile, the lace collar of her maid’s frock curiously changed from white to a bright shade of coral. Before I could question her about her collar, she eagerly confided that she’d become very close with the tattooed suminaire with the citrine feather.

I was thrilled for her. Béatrice deserved all the joy she could squeeze from inside that place. We all did.

She ignored my prodding and ran her fingers over another dress. When I gave her a pointed look, she sighed. “Something new is tempting, ma chérie. But not from here. I’m saving to shop somewhere else.”

“Where?” I asked, but she had already wandered down another aisle. “I thought you had to find faucet parts,” I called out.

“She doesn’t. The faucet was my idea.”

I jolted. Bel stood at the shop’s entrance leaking blood from a split lip. His knuckles were grazed, his dark hair sticking out in all directions. His vivid brown eyes fixed on me. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of him so soon after yesterday in that suite.

I cleared my throat. “What happened to you?”

He held up a floral brooch studded with sapphires and diamonds that looked like it cost a fortune. “Artéfacts aren’t always the easiest to come by.”

“Took you long enough.” Béatrice swept up and proceeded to tell Bel about our ordeal with the twins.

“This was your idea?” I gaped at him.

He shrugged. “I’m not allowed to bring anyone outside with me.”

But Béatrice was allowed an escort. “Why now?”

“I thought you might enjoy an afternoon away from the hotel,” he said, but there had to be more to it. He was too calculated to arrange all of this for my benefit alone. He turned to Béatrice. “We’ll meet you back at the hotel’s entrance before the twins come looking.”

“If either of you are late, I’ll never let you forget it,” she said, then darted down an aisle of dresses.

“Why am I really outside?” I asked once she was gone.

“For an afternoon away from the hotel,” he repeated. “I thought about what you had said in that godforsaken suite yesterday. And, well, getting outside in the fresh air is the only thing that keeps me sane inside that place.”

My eyes grew. “You mean, you planned all of this because I was upset?”

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s just for a couple of hours.”

I nodded, too stunned to do anything but walk silently beside him.

He led me down a blue cobbled street lined with stationery merchants selling floral paper and wax seals. The heat was relentless. I stopped at a fountain to splash some water against my neck and peel off the pink jacket.

Bel eyed the jacket. “Is that yours?”

“No. Béatrice dug it up. Bright pink isn’t exactly my favorite color.” I ran a hand across the sleeve.

“What is it?” he asked.

“My sister loved pink, the brighter the better. She always wanted to stand out. But I never liked the attention much.” Bel watched me, a small smile softening his eyes. For the first time in weeks, I let myself smile back. “Once, my mother forced me to wear some dresses a shade brighter than this. Never again.”

Bel propped himself against the fountain and faced the sky. Sunlight lit up his features. I tried not to stare, but he was breathtaking. “Tell me about the dresses.”

Oh god. They were embarrassing enough to think about, let alone speak of. “They’re . . . not very interesting.”

“They are to me.” He squinted up at me. “I like to hear about your memories.”

“You do?”

He nodded, and my heart ached for him.

I looked down so I didn’t have to meet his eyes. “One year our mother misordered fabric for Zosa’s winter dress and a huge bolt of peony pink muslin arrived at our door. It took all three of us to get it inside. There was no way Maman needed more than a fraction of it for Zosa. Unfortunately, I’d gone through a growth spurt and all the dresses in my closet barely covered my calves, so Maman decided to use the material to make me four more.” I cringed at the memory. “They were so bright they practically glowed. With enormous ruffles.”

“I can picture it perfectly.”

“Stop it. I wanted to burn them all.”

“But you wore them.”

I groaned. “Yes. Maman hid my other dresses so I was forced to wear them or run around naked. People gawked at me wherever we went. I couldn’t stand the attention. I tried to stuff myself at every meal in hopes that I would outgrow the dreadful things as quickly as possible.”

“Did you?”

I hid my face in my hands. “Three years later.”

Bel burst out laughing. I scooped water from the fountain and splashed his face.

“Sometimes you astound me with your maturity,” he said, and then flung a handful toward me. I shrieked as it splashed against my neck, soaking my collar. His gaze dropped to my wet neck, then lower. He jerked his eyes up. “We should keep walking.”