Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (23 page)

There were so many others watching them, Giselle should have
been able to dispel it. She should feel ashamed, but she didn’t. It
was time to feel the elation again. The despair it would lead to was
too far off to worry about.

They never finished the dance
. The next time their palms
touched, he broke away from the contact, and stood glaring down at
her. Dancers still moved about them, but Giselle didn’t see them.
She couldn’t tear her eyes from Navarre.

He took a step to reach her, and his fingers closed on her
elbow. She knew he was leading her from the floor, knew it would cause comment, and cared nothing for that. She had Navarre beside
her and she refused to look anywhere else. She watched him with
wide eyes and nibbled on her lower lip.

Heads turned as they walked away, but she ignored them.

“You look beautiful, Giselle. I wanted to tell you so before I leave.”

His words were tersely spoken, and a nerve twitched in his
jaw. Giselle watched him fill a plate from one of the tables.

“
Leave?” She whispered the word as her hands sought a wine
goblet.

“
I only came at Etienne’s request. If it had been anyone
else…?” He left the sentence unfinished.

“He asked for you?”

“It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, Giselle. Do not
make it worse,
s’il vous plait?”

“Worse
? How can you say such a thing?”

He shrugged
. His jacket fit so loosely, she could barely spot
the movement.

“
I don’t understand, Navarre. Why would Etienne ask for
you?”

“Perhaps he realized his limitation concerning dancing
. Who
is to say?”

He filled his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten for days. She
watched him without blinking.

“
Why? Does it matter so much to you,
Giselle?”

He viciously shoved another bite into his mouth and grimaced
like he’d tasted something foul.

“How can you say such a thing
? I—I…love you, Navarre.”

He stopped chewing and glared at her
. And then he swallowed
.

“Don’t toy with me, Giselle
. I won’t tolerate it. Not again.”

“I
—I have never toyed with you, Navarre.”

“Non
?”
His eyebrows rose as he asked it.

“No. I
swear it.”

“Well, whatever you call it
…don’t do it.
I’m
not man
enough to let you go so easily next time. Next time? What am I
saying?
I’m
mad to even consider it.
Merde!”

He set his plate down and took the glass from her hands
.
Giselle tried to stop her shivers as he gulped it down, then she simply stood there and
enjoyed them.

“
My. My. If it isn’t
mon cher,
Navarre.”

Giselle recognized the voice
. She knew Navarre did, too.

“
I see you’ve finally gotten some age to you. What do you know? You’re quite
handsome. Life never ceases to amaze me.”

Mademoiselle
Frerre’s voice turned Navarre’s features
to stone. Giselle felt the same way as she turned to face the woman.

“Charmaine.”

He didn’t even dip his head in deference. Giselle raised her brows
at the insult.

“You were invited
? What was my aunt thinking to
commit such
a faux pas?”

“Have
a care, Navarre. I’m still accepted in polite society, you
know.”

She moved close to him, arching her neck in a gesture to show
off its length. Giselle clenched her hands to keep from shoving the
woman away.

“Polite society
? You flatter yourself.”

Navarre wiped his hands on a napkin to put distance between
them and to snub her. He spent several moments studying his fingers before turning his attention back to her. Giselle longed to applaud his
performance.

“You’re a
magnifìque
specimen when you’re angered. I
wonder why I failed to see that earlier. Enlighten me,
mon ami.”

If she insisted on speaking in that deep tone much longer,
Giselle refused to be responsible for her actions. Her nails were digging into her palms now.

“What do you want, Charmaine
? My pockets are as much to let as they always were, remember?”

She laughed her mocking laugh again. “
Oh. I’m not here to make
you propose,
mon cher,
although now that I have seen you
full-grown, it is a tempting thought.”

“You over-rate your attraction, Charmaine
. I see that’s
something you haven’t outgrown.”

It was a good thing Navarre had spoken when he did. His
words covered up Giselle’s reaction. She was close to screaming at her. Having another woman flirt so outrageously with him, right in
front of her eyes was one thing, but to know it was the woman who had the most right to do so, was close to making her lose control. She
was shuddering with squelching it.

It was also a good thing Navarre had taken her wine goblet away from her
. She would have tossed it in the red-haired beauty’s face, and not given it another thought.

“I’
d forgotten how amusing it is to trade compliments with you, Navarre, but you needn’t worry about my imposing on your
bachelor state anytime soon. I’ve no designs on you. I have my
hands full with Jean-Claude. He sent me tonight for a reason. I’m checking the status of his
inheritance while I’m attending your little function. He’s not going to
like what I tell him, is he?”

She gesture
d toward Giselle, and they both looked at
her. To her own disgust, she blushed hotly.

“Hopefully not.”
Navarre replied.

Giselle no longer questioned why her chambers were so dark. She knew the reason the very next day. The pounding in her head made her thank the peaceful dimness every time she
opened her eyes.
Louisa was constantly at her side, making the pain
bearable. Nothing could be done for the heartache, however.

Nothing.

“You never should have stayed out so late, Giselle,” Louisa said. “Isabelle told me she removed the stitches from your gown at
dawn. How could you be so…?” She chuckled. “I don’t know why I
ask such a question.
Monsieur
Navarre was there, wasn’t he?”

Giselle moaned
. Her head pounded. Her throat hurt. And her heart just kept sending ache that overrode all the rest.

“What is it,
love?”

“No
…thing.”

Giselle had watched for another chance to be with him almost
the entire night, but he’d avoided her. It had been a simple matter. He was eligible, handsome, charming and wealthy. There was no dearth of females willing to dance and entertain him, and keep
him from his sister-in-law’s side.

“May I have another cup of tea, Louisa?”

“If it helps, love, you can have anything you like. Does it hurt
overmuch?”

“Only when you make small talk.” Giselle lifted the edge of
the wet towel from her eyes to observe Louisa’s reaction.

“Small talk
?
I’ll
have you know I’ve got better things to do than sit at your bedside and coddle you.
Tiens!
You are so stubborn.
All I ask is a hint of how it went, and what do I get? Insults.”

“I’m sorry.” Saying the words made her eyes pound again, and
Giselle eased further into her pillows.

Louisa had finished pouring a cup of tea and brought it over to
the bed. “Here you go, Giselle. Don’t mind me. I just want to
know how things went. Was he impressed by the gown? Was he
bowled over by your beauty? What did everyone say after meeting
with you? Who is this mysterious
Mademoiselle
Frerre?”

“That one I can answer. Do you remember the dressmaker where I got my gown?”

“Mai oui!
What a muddle. Did she say
anything?”

“Yes and no
. We didn’t speak about it at length.
How could we? I learned she was once Navarre’s betrothed.”

“No
! This is incredible.”

“It gets worse,
I assure you.”

“It does?”

“
Oui.”

The word was whispered
. Giselle winced.

“Does it hurt much to speak
? I should let you rest.”

“It isn’t the words, it’s…everything
. This
Mademoiselle
Frerre
is—she’s—I can’t believe
I’m
having trouble with the words.”

“Let me help you sit.”

The pain was worse when she lifted her shoulders, but she
welcomed it, surprising herself. She deserved it.

“Not only is she Navarre’s ex-betrothed, but she’s also Jean-Claude’s mistress from Versailles Palace
. She told Navarre and me that she was spying for Jean-Claude.”

Louisa stopped plumping the pillows behind Giselle’s back and
stood. Giselle had to imagine the expression on her face.

“Good heavens
! No wonder your poor head aches. I can’t
imagine anything more perverse.
Mon Dieu!
No wonder they speak of him like
they do.”

Giselle lifted the towel
. She watched Louisa sip from the tea
as she sat on the side of the bed. The expression on her face was
exactly as Giselle had imagined it to be, too.

“
So…Navarre did have a betrothed,” Louisa mused. “Gerty tried
to tell me the story when we first arrived, but I would have none of
her gossip. She expects something in exchange, and
I’d
never
talk about you. Stupid woman. She should find something better to
do with her time.”

“Mademoiselle
Frerre is…very beautiful.” Giselle’s voice
dropped.

“
I saw her. If you think such overblown looks are beautiful,
you’re touched. And if
Monsieur
Navarre thinks she’s more lovely than
you…well! I don’t know what this world’s coming to, I don’t.
Besides, did you not just say she’s Jean-Claude’s mistress? With a
wife and daughter here, he can afford a mistress?
I’d
like to know
who’s supposed to pay, that I would.”

“It’s quite amusing, Louisa.” Giselle handed her the cloth from
her forehead. It had warmed too much to be soothing. “I bought the
gown with Savignen gold, which is exactly what Jean-Claude would have used, too.”

“Amusing
? You have developed a strange sense of humor,
Giselle. I can’t imagine where you learned it, either. You would have covered yourself in ashes and collapsed in a righteous faint
earlier.”

“
I was never that devout, and you know it.
Oh, my head!”

Giselle sat upright to
argue with her, then
fell back onto the pillows. She knew what Louisa was
doing when she heard the water. Louisa was re-wetting the towel
with cool water. From the sound of it, she was rushing, too.

“There,
love. Don’t pay attention to my words when I jest. I can’t imagine what that
Mademoiselle
Frerre could have done to
make your poor head ache so, but she’d better not do it again. She’ll
have to get through me first.”

“It wasn’t her
. It was them.”

Giselle pointed at the connecting
door with a hand that wouldn’t stop shaking. The room was dark for
a reason, and being married to a Berchald male was it.

“Them
? Etienne did something? To whom?”

“He said…he planned…he
—”

Her throat closed off with the
stress of trying to say it, so she lay panting with it.

“He said something
? To whom? That
Mademoiselle
Frerre?
He didn’t renew their betrothal, did he?”

Giselle
rolled her head back and forth on the pillows.

“Then what?”

“Navarre.”

She whispered the name and closed her eyes
.
Nothing worked, though. She kept replaying the scene that had her pacing the room until she was too exhausted to walk. Navarre and Etienne were planning….

She couldn’t
even think it.

After Giselle had dismissed Isabelle, the light outlining the
connecting door made her realize it was ajar. Her head was starting to ache, but she could have sworn that door was locked when she left
for the ballroom. She recalled making certain of it.

Giselle was getting as self-centered as Esmee with her own
servants. She realized it when she’d come upon Isabelle napping on
the small divan as she waited to take Giselle’s stitches out and wrap her coiffure. That’s why she’d rushed in dressing for bed, and
that’s why she hadn’t noticed the door ajar sooner. It wasn’t going to
stay that way, though. Etienne wasn’t entering her rooms again, ever.

Giselle lurched toward the doorway, holding onto the wrapped
bundle of her hair to balance herself. She hadn’t wanted the hairstyle taken apart just yet. The chateau had many guests staying over, and
she might have need of dressing formally again. It was stupid, though. She wished women would revolt against such fashions.

“It will never work, Etienne,” Navarre
had been speaking. “Go to sleep. Y
ou’ll see things differently tomorrow.”

Giselle opened the door a little farther to peek
.

“Of
course it will work! You’ve lost some…some…some—enough weight, haven’t you? I applaud you for it, too.” Etienne’s words
were slurred, as if he stumbled over his own tongue.

Enough weight
? What strangeness were they plotting
now?

“
Trust me, Etienne. She’d never believe it was you.”

“If it was dark enough, and she had enough wine, she could
.
Besides…she’s a child. She knows nothing of it.”

Navarre stepped out of her sight, so she opened the door
farther to see where he went. Etienne was easy to find. He was propped against his headboard, tear tracks on his cheeks.
Navarre was standing at the open windows, looking out over
the valley. For some reason, she wasn’t worried over being caught,
so she opened the door even wider. Navarre had his hands over his
ears, as if to shut out Etienne’s words. He hadn’t changed although
his hair had come undone. Giselle couldn’t tear
her eyes from him even if she’d wanted to.

Dawn’s light silhouetted him, turning his golden hair dark red,
and highlighting every bit of him for her. When he turned, Giselle
ducked back into the doorway.

“You want to see me die, too, don’t you
? You…along with everyone
else! So be it. Get out! Didn’t you hear me? Get out!” Etienne
covered his face with his hands as if to hide further sobs.

“Etienne,
I’d
do anything for you. You know this.
Please don’t talk this way.”

Navarre approached the bed and went to his knees on the
ledge. The motion brought him directly into Giselle’s line of sight.

“Anything
? Have I the wrong meaning for the word?
Perhaps you’d better leave before you lie more to me.”

Navarre put his forehead on the coverlet, and Etienne reached
out to touch his head. Giselle had to swallow past the lump in her
throat at the sight. She realized she was intruding. She was no
better than Gerty, listening at keyholes. She moved back into her
chamber. She was in the process of closing the door as softly as possible when Navarre spoke again.

“I’ll talk to Giselle again, Etienne
. I promise.”

“Talk
? I don’t need more talk. I need you to bed her and get her with child! I need a son, and you can sire it better than I.
How many more times must I repeat it?”

Shock stopped Giselle, and
then anger.
She’d known her husband was bestial, crude, and heartless, but to ask
something so evil? She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

Say something Navarre,
she silently begged. She willed him to
refute Etienne’s request, to let him know he asked too much. Love
was God’s gift, not a means to prevent someone like Jean-Claude’s
inheritance.

Say it, Navarre!

Silence answered. She realized Navarre wasn’t going to say anything against it. The anguish settled into her stomach like a
stone. Navarre was willing to try and fool her? He was willing to be
intimate with her as if he were Etienne? She wondered why she
questioned it, when she had the proof right in front of her. She watched as Navarre sighed, lifting his shoulders with it.

D
id they really think she wouldn’t know? Even in the dark? They
may be close in weight now, but…
Giselle wiped at her mouth, brutally rubbing away the feel of Navarre’s kisses. The memory remained. They’d never be able to
fool her. They couldn’t disguise Navarre’s scent.

Bile
choked, tasting like flat champagne, as
she stepped into the room. The sunlight blinded her for a moment.
The
duc’s
rooms were bright, but there wasn’t enough light to ward
off the blackness of their intrigues.

“
Oh. Look. It’s Giselle.” Etienne saw her first. “This is excellent.
You see, Navarre? You won’t even have to pretend.”

Etienne looked at her through such reddened eyes, she almost
winced. Navarre stumbled to his feet like a thief caught in the act.
Giselle centered her attention on the
duc,
refusing to even glance in
Navarre’s direction.