Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (15 page)

“And shut the door after her!” Giselle shouted.

She heard Etienne’s laugh. He was disgusting. Revolting. Confusing. He said he
wanted a woman, but what did that make her? And who were these sons of his? S
he couldn’t ask Gerty, Isabelle, or even Esmee, who arrived next after
being told about Giselle’s demands by Gerty.

Giselle didn’t care
. She was going riding with Navarre, and she would get the answers she deserved. If they were too horrid, she
would leave. They could keep Savignen Valley. And good riddance. Giselle would join the
convent of St. Mary in Bordeaux.
That’s
what she was going to do.

She didn’t tell Louisa her plans
. That would just start
another sermon on how she needed to live more and pray less.
Giselle must not have been praying enough. Etienne was her
penance. She shuddered just thinking of him.

“Is the water too cold,
Madame?”

Isabelle held out a towel as
she asked it.

“Non
.
I’m letting my imagination run amok again. What time
is
Monsieur
Navarre riding? Has he said yet?”

“At four,
Madame.”

Isabelle
was avoiding her gaze. She wasn’t calling her Giselle, either. Giselle knew why. The entire household was probably under the assumption that she prepared herself for an assignation with Navarre. Giselle lips thinned. She no longer cared
what they thought.

“Bring my dress, Isabelle, and don’t waste any more time.”

Giselle was curt. Annoyed. They must have suspected as
much, for no one spoke again. And if anyone questioned anything, she was
ready to snap at them, too.

Navarre probably looked as incredibly handsome as always in
his red breeches and black frock coat, but Giselle ignored him as she stormed down the steps. She came to a stop beside the beast she was
to mount. She’d have been terrified of one as big as Navarre’s
but hers looked more like an overgrown puppy. It was uninspiring
against the stylish gown Isabelle had laced her into.

She didn’t care about such things as her appearance anymore.
She hadn’t even checked in the mirror before she left. How could she? Etienne was still there. Drinking. From a lounging position in her immense bed. Surveying the chambers as if he belonged there
.

Giselle looked down at herself
. The gown was tight against her
cinched-in waist, the skirt wasn’t full, but it was voluminous, and gone was the high, powdered arrangement of her hair. She was
grateful for the comforting weight of her bun against the back of her neck, although the elegant hat on her head was as unwieldy as
Monsieur
Poinre’ s creation from the previous day.

“You look splendid, Giselle.”

Navarre smiled down at her, and she glared at him until the smile left.

“Put me on the horse, Navarre, and get me away from this
horrid castle.”

“Horrid? What has happened? If
Etienne has—.

“He has done nothing, but I refuse to talk near these walls
!
They tell too many tales. And I refuse to be gossiped about any
further.”

“Very
well.”

He lifted her easily, and Giselle tried to squelch
the instant reaction to
his hands about her waist. She was angry with him,
too. He was a Berchald. And the entire family was perverse, not just
Jean-Claude.

Still, she felt the heat of a blush at
his touch
. She needed more material about herself to protect
herself from the experience.

“Since you haven’t ridden before,
I’ll lead.”

Giselle nodded and tried not to watch as he mounted his horse
right beside her. She’d assumed it wasn’t possible to gasp in her
corset, but she was wrong. D
espite what everyone thought, she wanted answers from him,
nothing more.

It was a pity her heart wasn’t listening.

Giselle’s hands on the saddle horn trembled. It would
help if Navarre wasn’t sitting so straight in his saddle right in front
of her…or if the queue showing beneath his hat weren’t so
golden-blond…or if his shoulders weren’t so wide. His hips so slender…

Her horse started off
. Giselle choked back the cry of surprise. It would never do if he thought her frightened, and after a few steps,
she realized that she wasn’t. This riding was no worse than the cabriolet
had been, only a bit stranger. She moved backward and forward with
the animal’s gait, pleased with herself.

“Do you have any preference on time or how far you wish to ride?”

They reached the gate. It was a different than they’d entered
when she first arrived.
Giselle looked through the opening at gray stone that stretched out to line the road for
some distance.
A few trees shaded the lane, and she held her breath in wonder
as they thinned. Finally, she saw the size of her own dowry.

“You didn’t answer me, Giselle
. Giselle?”

Navarre turned in his saddle, so much higher than her on his big horse
. Giselle couldn’t see his expression in the shadow thrown
by his hat, but he could see hers. She could tell by his next words.

“
Ah. The valley. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Very productive, too. We have
the best yield in all of France. I have an excellent overseer, too.”

“
I?” she queried.

“Well…Etienne doesn’t show much interest in any part of the
Berchald estate, so I do.” He shrugged and turned back around. “If you wish to tour Savignen Valley, it will take until nightfall.”

“
I came for answers, Navarre, not sights.”

“That is what I assumed
. I’ll start a trot. Let me know if we
go too fast.”

Let him know
?
How was she to do that?

As soon as the animal started moving faster, Giselle
bounced, feeling as if
each movement might send her over its head. She hung on for what seemed hours, before Navarre slowed.

“
There. That is our race course. You see?”

He pointed to his right as they
walked toward a fenced area.
Giselle glanced at what could be a racing course or not. It was difficult to tell, for the area was greatly overgrown.

“Designed by the tenth
duc,
it was to be three stretches
followed by a series of jumps over there. Do you see them?”

She saw what Navarre was referring to. The obstacles were
constructed of widely spaced poles. Some had fallen. Some
supported the shrubbery that grew around them.

“It looks bad, Giselle, but Etienne ordered no one to touch it
after the accident.”

He stopped, and Giselle’s horse drew alongside him without
her influence. She patted its neck gratefully, hoping Navarre
wouldn’t spot her trembling.

“
The accident…it happened here?” she asked.

“Oui
.
I was…about fourteen. And the one thing I loved was being
with Etienne. He was my hero. I know he’s different now, but he
wasn’t always so difficult. He was an outstanding rider, too. I used to hold my breath in wonder at his expertise. He was good at
whatever he tried, though. He was everything I wanted to be, and more.
”

He sighed and
moved his finger to the jumps. “See that one, the third?
Etienne wanted that one set even higher. It was a difficult jump,
even for him.”

The top pole was still attached to one side, although a vine
claimed it. It looked to be well above her head.

“Higher?” she asked.

“
Oui.
And he made it, Giselle. I recall how wonderful it looked, too,
just before he flew off. The horse didn’t knock off that top rail. Etienne’s body did. I ran to him, but he refused to let me help.
He ordered me to get transport and a doctor. He said he couldn’t
move.

“Th
at’s when I saw that he still had the saddle between his legs. The
cinch was cut almost cleanly in two. It would have broken under any strain, let alone a jump like he’d just done.
Someone had tried to kill him and nearly succeeded.”

Giselle put a hand to her throat
.
Etienne told the truth last
night?
She was in shock. It sounded in her voice.

“Jean-Claude?
Then…why was nothing done?” Giselle asked.

“Imagine the scandal
to the family. And the loss of the vineyard
if Etienne’s disability became known. We couldn’t chance it.”

“
The Berchalds allowed an attempt at murder to go
unpunished? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I can’t.”

“It was Etienne’s decision, Giselle
. He sided with our mother. That’s why she accompanied Jean-Claude to Versailles Palace, and
stays with him there.”

“
Your mother?”

Giselle looked from the rail to Navarre
and back at the railing. She couldn’t stand to see the bitterness
etched on his face.

“Only by keeping a close watch on Jean-Claude does she keep
Etienne safe.”

‘This is incredible
.
Non!
Worse. I never heard of
such devious behavior. How could she let it go unpunished? Doesn’t
she love Etienne?”

Navarre smiled down at her, making her feel naive and young.

“Jean-Claude is as much her son as Etienne is. How could any
mother choose, Giselle?”

She opened her mouth and shut it again
. She knew very little,
especially of a mother’s love for a child. How could she? She couldn’t remember receiving it.
The thought reminded her of
Etienne’s taunt that morning.

“Navarre
? Who are Jacques and Rene?”

She startled him
. He lurched backwards, almost falling from his hose. It
should have made her smile, but it didn’t.

“He
told you of them?
Mon Dieu!
The man has no sense.
He’s a mean-spirited, rude, satirical—” He bit off his words.
“Why, Giselle? Why would he tell you of them?”

She
looked down at her hands on the saddle pommel. Licked her lips. Forced her voice to work.
“He—he said…I’m not woman…enough. And since he
already has two sons…it’s not worth his trouble.”

“He said that
?
Tiens!
He’s a brute, as well. I don’t know where
he could come up with something like that, Giselle. You’re every bit
a woman, and so much more, I don’t know where to start. You’re
beautiful, engaging, witty, everything a man hopes for….”

His voice lowered, as if he worried someone might overhear
.
In the open near a race-course? Chateau Berchand couldn’t reach here, could it?

“He
says…no fool wants…a—a maiden.”

“What
? No! He didn’t! He couldn’t!”

“And he said…I lack passion
. I may. I don’t even know what…it is.”

She looked up at him, and
saw
anger, disgust, and along with
that, abject longing. Giselle knew what the combination had to be,
because she felt the exact same emotions.

“
I have something to show you, Giselle,” Navarre finally said, in a tightly
controlled voice. “And it’s some distance.
Hang on.”

They set out across the vineyard
. All she paid attention to was
holding on. She couldn’t believe he’d go so fast on her first ride. She should have known where he was taking her, too. The
Minot farmhouse loomed through the trees after a span, and she didn’t
even question it.

“You ride very well, Giselle,” Navarre said. “
I should have
expected it. Did it frighten you unduly? I hope not, for I’m not
accustomed to going at such a slow trot.”

Slow trot
?
She shook her head. He turned back around and shouted toward the house.

“Minot!”

It wasn’t
Madame
Minot who stepped from the door. It was a slightly smaller version.

“
Ah. Desiree.
I’m
pleased you’re home.”

“Monsieur
Navarre! We…didn’t expect you! Mama should have
said something.” She wiped her hands on her apron and looked
around so furtively that Giselle looked, too, although she didn’t know what they were looking for.

“Of course you didn’t
. I just thought of it. I have brought the
Duchesse
du Berchald to meet Jacques.”

Giselle thought
the woman might faint. Navarre must have thought the
same thing, for he leaped to the ground and ran to the porch. Giselle
watched with interest. She was already assigning meaning to Navarre’s words, and instinctively she knew she was right. Desiree
must be this Jacques’ mother. Giselle stifled the instant distaste. If Etienne preferred a woman her size, no wonder he called Giselle a
girl.

“Jacques isn’t available,
Monsieur.
He has chores. You know
that. But you say nothing of Rene. Why?”

The woman whispered, but Giselle heard her
. She leaned towards them, and her horse actually followed the unspoken command by stepping closer.

“Etienne may be blind, Desiree, but I am not
. Send for
Jacques. And Rene, if you like. I care little at this point.”

Navarre
shrugged, dismissing her, just as laughter diverted Giselle’s
attention. Three boys came into the clearing. The sticks on their
shoulders and the string of fish the smallest held showed where they
had been.