A Great Reckoning by Louise Penny Page B

hosts, Commander and Madame Gamache.
    *   *   *
    Amelia Choquet wasn’t fooled.
    She stood in a corner, wedged between a bookcase and the wall of windows. She could feel the cold glass against her sleeve, and every now and then there was a scratching from outside, as a particularly savage gust of snow hit the glass and slid down.
    From there she surveyed the room.
    And the room surveyed her. When one set of eyes stopped staring at her and looked away, another set jumped in. Like a visual tag team. Or cage match.
    Amelia had shown up, expecting something else entirely. What she had not expected was a cocktail party.
    Madame Gamache had greeted her at the door, leading her to the drinks table where Amelia poured herself a Canadian Club and ginger.
    In her soft sweater and scarf, smelling of soap and roses, the Commander’s wife was as alien to Amelia as Amelia was to the rest of the room.
    She could see it. She either revolted or frightened, or amused, the other cadets. And the professors simply dismissed her.
    Except one. He was middle-aged, short and stubby, but not fat. Amelia could sense taut muscles beneath the casual sweater and wondered if he took steroids.
    The man kept looking at her, but not with a critical eye. Not after that first sharp glance. It had evolved. She interested him. She could see it. Not, she thought, sexually. She had a pretty good radar for that.
    This was something else. He was assessing her.
    It was, from what she could see, a strange group. At first she’d thought those invited must be the most promising, the most intelligent, the natural leaders. Though that didn’t explain her presence.
    But now, watching the other students more closely, she knew that wasn’t true. There were both men and women. Some clearly Anglos, most Francophones. Most white, but one was Asian and there was one black man. And one of the guests was in a wheelchair. She couldn’t tell if he was a student or a professor.
    None of them seemed remarkable.
    The Asian woman approached Amelia.
    â€œHuifen.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThat’s my name. I’m a third-year cadet. You’re a freshman?”
    She was looking at Amelia expectantly. This woman, thought Amelia, did not have good survival instincts.
    â€œWhat?” demanded Amelia.
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œNone of your fucking business.”
    It wasn’t exactly the sparkling cocktail party conversation Amelia had read about in books.
    Huifen nodded, as though Amelia had given her valuable information. It was a gesture Amelia found disconcerting.
    â€œHe’s new, you know.” Huifen was looking through the crowd toward Commander Gamache, who was standing with a drink and listening to some students.
    â€œHe looks used,” Amelia said.
    Huifen laughed.
    â€œThat man”—Huifen gestured toward the professor who’d been staring at Amelia—“is Professor Leduc. The Duke. He used to run the place.”
    Huifen looked from Leduc to Gamache, then she leaned closer to Amelia, who bent away but not before she heard Huifen whisper, “Stay away from him. He’s interested in you, I can see. Stay away.”
    Then Huifen stood up straight and laughed, as though one of them had said something clever.
    Amelia looked at Leduc, then at Gamache. Not at all sure which “he” this senior cadet meant.
    â€œI wonder why he’s here,” said Huifen, and this time it was obvious that she meant Gamache.
    â€œEither way”—Huifen returned her gaze to Amelia—“this should be interesting.”
    She raised her brow and smiled, then drifted, apparently aimlessly, across the room. But Amelia soon noticed there was a destination. After meandering about, Huifen stopped next to Leduc. The Duke.
    He looked, Amelia thought, not at all like a duke. There was nothing remotely regal about him. He radiated raw energy. In this genteel gathering, there was something