The Nightingale Circus Read Online Free PDF Page B

which didn’t
fit the pattern. She never rolled the dice herself and only placed
bets to increase her chances. She should have won.
    And normally she would have if another player
hadn’t placed a big bet on the same number. The man in the charcoal
gray jacket had mirrored her bets for the past few rounds,
increasingly adding chips to the pile. Nicolas already had troubles
keeping it a cold table. He had no problem with helping her win a
few rolls. A happy Lucille would be more than generous later in
bed, but he didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention. So she’d had
to lose.
    To comfort her, Nicolas placed a kiss on her
bare shoulder, appreciating once again the expensive dress’s
design. Her soft, chocolate-colored locks tickled his cheek. “Ready
to go?” he murmured.
    It was getting late, and she only had two
chips left in front of her, so hopefully she agreed. If he stayed
much longer, he would be less prone to enjoy the rest of the
evening. Controlling not one, but two delicate devices smaller than
a fingernail hidden inside the rolling dice was taxing on his
strength. The whole process required more focus than dealing with
objects a hundred times bigger and heavier, and he’d had
enough.
    “Not yet, just a few more bets,” Lucille said
with a determined smile. “I need to break even at least.” She held
out her hand. “Give me two hundreds.”
    “I don’t carry money on me.”
    “Of course you do.” Her palm stayed open.
    With a resigned sigh, Nicolas pulled out his
wallet and handed her two bills. She didn’t need to bet much, but
she had a strong aversion towards losing.
    “Thank you, darling.” Lucille’s smile was
full of promises when she took the money.
    Nicolas leaned back in his seat, nodded at a
group of acquaintances, and signaled the waiter for another drink.
It would last him for twenty minutes, but not a second more.
    A newspaper left discarded on a nearby table
caught his attention. The headline said, Telecharger caught in
broad daylight in Rouen. The police had picked up another one.
Nicolas stifled a groan. They were getting closer.
    “Why don’t you play, too?” Lucille asked and
put four chips on six.
    Nicolas frowned. “I don’t believe in
luck.”
    The shooter hit six, and Lucille’s full lips
curled in a pleased smile.
    Exactly twenty minutes later, they walked out
of the club into the cold, spring night. Lucille returned the
borrowed money on their way to the car. She was left with fifteen
coins and a big smile. It didn’t cost much to make her happy, only
his strength.
    “You know, I think that table was broken,”
she said while he held the door open.
    Nicolas’s lips lingered on her flushed cheek.
“I know.”
     
    * * *
     
    Sunday morning came too soon, and Nicolas had
to leave Lucille’s warm bed for the weekly lunch with his parents.
Crossing Toulouse at that hour was going to make him at least half
an hour late, but the extra minutes of sleep had been worth it.
    With his older brother away surveying army
affairs and his younger sister studying in Paris, he was alone to
keep them company. Even so, he liked these intimate gatherings
despite the cold and severe dining room and his father constantly
picking on him. But he wasn’t a boy to let himself be intimidated
by it, so he didn’t flinch when his father gave him a disapproving
look. “You’re late.”
    “But I’m here,” Nicolas said. “Hi, Mom.”
    His mother presented her cheek, and Nicolas
kissed it before sitting at the table. She smiled and nodded at
Jeannette to bring lunch. The old maid shuffled her feet on the
polished floor, taking her time to make it to the kitchen. Things
were done the old way at Rieux Mansion.
    “You look pale,” his mother said as she
wrapped the cashmere shawl tighter around her shoulders.
    They had turned off the central heating too
soon this year, and the old house that had been in the family for
generations still felt like a freezer during the colder days.