Page 114 of The Seven Sisters
She turned and smiled at him. ‘Yes.’
Gustavo surveyed his wife in a beautiful gown of green silk, the emeralds her father had presented her with for her eighteenth birthday in her ears and around her neck.
‘You look radiant,querida,’ he said offering her his arm. ‘Shall we go?’
‘I can’t imagine what it might be that warrants such an audience,’ said Bel as she walked with him down the stairs.
‘Well, you shall soon see.’ Gustavo tapped his nose and then opened the drawing room door. ‘Here she is,’ he said to the assembled company, and Bel smiled as her mother and father came over to greet her. Gustavo steered Bel away from them towards his own parents, who were talking to another guest.
‘This is the first part of your surprise, which may help you guess what your gift is. May I present Senhor Laurent Brouilly, all the way from Paris.’
Bel watched as Laurent turned towards her, Gustavo smiling gaily between the two of them, so happy with his surprise plan.
She gazed at Laurent witlessly, knowing that all eyes in the room had turned towards the two of them to watch for her reaction. She could not think of a thing to say to him, so deep was her shock. She felt her silence lasting forever as the seconds ticked by.
‘Madame Aires Cabral,’ said Laurent, taking her hand in his and saving the day. ‘It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance again.’ He kissed her hand, and then studied her. ‘Your father was asking a few minutes ago whether I felt I had done you justice, but seeing you again, I fear I have not.’
‘I . . .’ Bel forced her brain to make her mouth open and speak to him in French. ‘Senhor Brouilly, what a pleasant surprise. I did not expect to see you in Rio.’
‘Well,’ said Gustavo, ‘it was a happy coincidence that Senhor Brouilly was here in Brazil for theCristoproject. Surely you must have guessed what my gift is by now?’
Bel’s mind was so full of Laurent, she hadn’t even begun to contemplate the correlation between his presence and the gift from her husband. Luckily, before she could answer, Gustavo steered her towards an object that stood draped under a tablecloth, as everyone gathered round.
‘Shall I remove it?’ Gustavo asked her.
‘Yes,’ said Bel with a gulp, finally understanding what the gift was.
There were gasps of delight as Laurent’s sculpture was revealed. And Bel could only thank God Laurent had captured her as a chaste young woman. No one gazing at her image could possibly suggest the sculpture was in any way inappropriate.
‘So?’ Gustavo’s eyes swept around the room, gauging the onlookers’ opinions.
Antonio was the first to speak. ‘Why, it is the most incredible likeness. You have captured her well, Senhor Brouilly.’
‘Yes indeed, that is the image of my daughter,’ said Carla approvingly.
Gustavo translated both the positive responses to Laurent and he gave them a bow of appreciation.
‘I’m not sure that you have quite caught her lips,’ said Luiza in French, always eager to find something negative to say. ‘They are not as full as they could be.’
‘Well, senhora,’ replied Laurent, ‘studying your daughter-in-law after her marriage, she has definitely flowered since I last saw her in person. It must be that being a wife, with all its pleasures, suits her.’
Bel almost gasped at Laurent’s response to Luiza’s criticism, ostensibly gracious yet so soaked with innuendo that no one in the room could miss it. Luiza had the grace to blush.
‘And what do you think of my gift to you, Izabela?’ enquired Gustavo, placing a proprietorial arm around her waist.
‘I don’t think I can judge the merits of a sculpture of myself without sounding arrogant, but it is a very thoughtful wedding gift, Gustavo. And you have made me very happy.’ As robotically as she had spoken those words, Bel planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek. And during every second of this exchange, she felt – or imagined she felt – Laurent’s eyes burning into her.
The elderly butler entered the room and announced that dinner was served. At the table, Bel was grateful that Laurent had been placed between Luiza and Carla; she was between her father and her father-in-law, with Gustavo holding court at the top of the table. Unfortunately, Laurent was seated directly opposite her, so every time she looked up, there he was. She thought how the table arrangement was a dreadful parody of the hours they had sat facing each other in theatelierin France.
Taking a large gulp of the wine the butler had poured her to calm her nerves, Bel turned to her right and began an indepth conversation about anything that sprang to mind with Maurício. Antonio, hearing that they had begun discussing coffee prices, soon joined in and the two men spoke of their concerns that the amount currently being produced in Brazil was creating a surplus which was driving the price down.
‘My friends in the senate are talking about the idea of stockpiling,’ commented Maurício.
‘Yes, and I’m planning to follow their lead on my farms,’ confirmed Antonio. ‘The price has already dropped in the space of a month and the profits are not as healthy as they were.’
While the conversation was lost on her, Bel had no choice but to sit slightly back in her chair as the two men conversed across her. Which meant she often found herself staring straight ahead at Laurent.
And as their eyes locked for a few seconds, they both knew that nothing had changed.
