Page 71 of The Beautiful Ones

The words traveled through the glasshouse with the soft certainty of winter entering an unlatched room.

Father’s gaze darted among them. “And what of my daughter? Is this about Cécile? Take the girl if you want her. Take the Swedish servant too. Their contracts are worthless to me now.”

My stomach turned.

Elin’s hand tightened around mine.

Adrian looked past Father and found me behind the rose arch.

“Your daughter is not yours to offer.”

Father spun toward us.

For one instant, naked fear crossed his face. Then anger covered it.

“Cécile, return to the house.”

I stepped into view.

“No.”

The word struck the glass dome as clearly as the bell had.

Father stared at me.

“You will obey me.”

“No.”

It was harder the second time. It was mine both times.

Adrian’s eyes held mine, but he did not lend me his voice. I knew the difference now. My throat hurt. My heart raced. The birds struck glass, recovered and flew again.

Father raised the pistol toward Adrian.

“Leave my daughter out of this.”

“You used her future to excuse your trade,” Adrian said. “You used her name to bargain with Nathaniel. You brought her into this long before we arrived.”

“You know nothing about my family.”

“I know what it cost.”

Father cocked the pistol.

“Shoot me, Étienne,” Adrian said. “Show her what kind of man built Le Champ des Fleurs.”

Father fired.

The shot exploded beneath the glass dome. Smoke and flame burst from the barrel. Panes shattered overhead, raining bright fragments among the white blossoms.

The lead ball struck Adrian above the heart.

He did not move.

The bullet flattened against his black coat and fell to the flagstones with a small metallic sound.

Father dropped the pistol.