Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (25 page)

“Louisa!”
Giselle tried to sound as stern as possible.

“I’m
jesting, Giselle. This is priceless.
Monsieur
Navarre
is attracted to his disabled brother’s wife, and it’s making him ill with fighting it. The poor man stays away and only attends the ball
because the
duc
insisted upon it.”

“You know about that, too?”

“Gerty is the
duc’s
valet’s sister. Always remember that
. She knows more about the
duc’s
movements than he probably does.”

“She might know—
? Oh! I’ll die of embarrassment.”

“She doesn’t know this, Giselle
. Trust me.”

“But, you just said
—”

“She wouldn’t keep it a secret if she did
. That woman can’t keep anything secret. Now, look. You’re making me lose my train
of thought.”

“
Oh. Forgive me,” Giselle said sarcastically.

“Monsieur
le
Duc
longs to make certain his littlest brother
attends this fest. Why is that, do you think?”

“Don’t look to me. I’m certain I don’t know.”

“Because he wants to make sure
Monsieur
Navarre knows to
whom you belong, perhaps? Or better yet, he wants to make certain
you know to whom
Monsieur
Navarre belongs. That could have been
his intent. It’s obvious he has to do something. Perhaps the
duc
knew this
Mademoiselle
Frerre would attend, and he would want the
duchesse
- that’s you, Giselle.”

“
I am capable of that much intrigue, thank you very much.”
Giselle spoke sarcastically, but she was smiling, too.

“Yes
. Well. Suppose the petite
duchesse
finds out that this
Mademoiselle
was Navarre’s betrothed? Perhaps the
duc
believes
this revelation will get you to…. How can I put this delicately?”

“Don’t bother
. Etienne wants me in his bed. He doesn’t care
if I rant and rave about it, either. He thinks I’m wonderful when
I’m
angry, and even…. I shudder to recall this, but he desires me when I
rage at him. Oh Louisa! He’s sick!”

“It seems the
duc
may have out-schemed himself this time, though. He
forgot Navarre’s betrothed wants nothing to do with him. She’s Jean-Claude’s property.” She almost spat the last word.

“
Then Etienne gets so drunk, he’s unable to do what he hoped,
anyway,” Giselle said, surprising herself and Louisa. “He can’t fulfill
his part of the intrigue, even if I’m willing and in his bed.”

“You’re learning, Giselle
. Now imagine that
Mademoiselle
Frerre made certain the
duc
knows that Jean-Claude won’t stand by
and watch his inheritance slip through his fingers. Don’t tell me he
didn’t try and kill the
duc,
either. I already know the story.”

“
I won’t.” Giselle rose to her knees and moved into the middle
of the bed.

“That leaves
Monsieur
le
Duc
in a quandary. What can he do?
Who can he trust to help him?”

“Navarre!”
Giselle gathered an arm
load of covers to her breast.

“Exactly!”
Louisa pointed at her. “And, since the
duc
has
already seen Navarre’s attraction to you…” She winked as she said that,
and Giselle blushed, “what better plan than to put Navarre into his
own marriage bed? The resulting child would have the same blood, would it not?
Monsieur
Navarre resembles the
duc
quite a bit, too. Admit it.”

“I’ll do no such thing
. Navarre is the most handsome man in
the world, but as long as the child is a Berchald and is accepted as such, Etienne would be safe.”

“Right
! But there are complications. The
duchesse
won’t
agree. Therefore, she must be fooled. The man is stupid as well as
disabled to think that would work, but men are stupid creatures. Don’t ever say you heard me say that, though.”

“Never.”
Giselle shook her head.

“Which brings me to the part I wish I had seen
. Oh! I can’t
imagine how
Monsieur
Navarre must have looked when his brother
offered you to him. He must have been in shock, Giselle. That’s
why he said nothing. He never believed you’d ever be his, and he
longs to do what Etienne wants. He knows it’s wrong, but his entire being begs for it.”

She was making Giselle shiver, but she said nothing to stop the
words.

“But he has to argue,” Louisa continued. “‘It’s impossible,
Etienne’, he must say. ‘It will never work.’”

“Mon Dieu
!”
Giselle cried it aloud and slapped her hands to her
cheeks, losing the bedding.

“What?”

“He was saying as much when I first listened. Oh, Louisa, what have I done?”

“You did something?”

“I stormed into the
duc’s
chamber. I called Etienne and
Navarre horrible names. Oh…how will I get him to forgive me?”

Giselle sat in the center of her bed, deflated beyond all reason.

“You stormed the chamber? You? I don’t believe it.”

“
I said they might as well put Jean-Claude into my bed, since
one Berchald was as good as another. I said I’d rather lie with a pig. Oh, Louisa! What have I done?”

Giselle tipped her head and wailed it to the
canopy of red drapery above her.

“You said all that
? Oh Giselle! I am so proud of you.”

“You are?” Her head came back down.

“You play this game like an expert. For what but a little righteous anger would make
Monsieur
Navarre even more
tormented?”

“
I don’t want him tormented.”

“Oh please, Giselle, you wanted much worse, earlier.”

That much was true. Giselle opened her mouth and then closed
it again.

“You only need to choose the place, Giselle
. If I’m not
mistaken, your love is, right now, thinking of what he could have
done differently, and what he should have said. I don’t suppose
your head is feeling any better?”

“Oui,
and
I’m
starving. Would Chef Aaron send something
more substantial up, do you think?”

“Bend your destiny to fit your needs, Giselle
. That’s my
advice, and I don’t often give it.”

Giselle
’s eyes went wide. “You almost sound
as if you think I should….
Merde!
I still can’t say it!”

“Listen to me carefully, Giselle du Berchald
. From the first moment I saw you, I lost my
heart. It was a good thing, too, for I failed to follow it earlier.
If I had…? Well, that’s a long story. I was once young and in love, too, but I didn’t have the courage to follow my own heart.”

“We’re speaking of adultery here, Louisa. Are you honestly
suggesting I surrender all hope of heaven?”

“Did your mouth say the vows
? If you must think on it,
remember that. Well, did it?”

Giselle smiled as she watched Louisa plant her hands on her
hips. It was such predictable behavior even if her advice did border
on heresy.

“I’m saying nothing, Giselle
. You must follow your heart, not
me. I can only tell you what you reap if you don’t follow it. Once
you get as old as me, all you have are regrets. And the older you are, the more costly they become, too.”

“I’m sorry
. I don’t understand.”

“Oh, pooh
. Look at me, crying at my regrets and lecturing you
when you have a handsome young man at your beck and call. Talk
about a waste of time!”

“
I don’t think he’ll accept my overtures right now, Louisa. In
fact, I’m certain of it.”

She chuckled and walked to the door. “You’ve got a lot to
learn, Giselle, but I’ve monopolized your time long enough. Isabelle
will still be fretting over your head pain, and I have Chef Aaron to
flatter with your order.”

The door shut behind her. Giselle got up and went to her
window. She felt weak, but at least her head wasn’t pounding anymore. She felt like she’d just been bathed and was waiting to be dried off. She shook off the fancy as she watched the edge of
Savignen Valley. The trees were touched on their crowns by the setting sun. It was a peaceful sight, and she desperately needed some
peace.

“Would you rather go through the third addition or the cellars
today, Giselle?” Esmee asked. “We haven’t seen either, yet. But, since
it’s such a lovely day, we could tour the gardens. The eighth
duchesse
laid out a lovely maze, and it’s one of our showpieces.”

“
I think
I’d
prefer the stables, actually,” Giselle replied.

“The stables?”
Esmee’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline.
“They will be muddy this early in the day.
I’m
not dressed for it,
either.”

Giselle shrugged and returned to the book of sonnets she’d
taken from the Blue Salon. The words should have been memorized
by now, but she wasn’t reading them.

“Are you certain
? The maze would be better, I think. It’s
finally been groomed. It takes nearly a week to complete, and we
have to wait until the shrubs are thick enough. It’s truly lovely.”

“Why do you bother asking me, if you’re not going to acquiesce to my wishes?”

Giselle spoke to her book. She wondered if she dared peek to see how Esmee took that particular speech, but
decided against it.
Esmee sighed.

“Very well, Giselle. I’m no expert on them,
though. It would be better if Navarre were to show them to
you.”

Giselle tried not to show her satisfaction by bringing the book
closer to her nose.
Louisa was right again.
Giselle could learn
to manipulate people with the best of them.

“
I suppose I could wait for Navarre to show me. I don’t know
how long that might take, though. I really would like to see them
today.”

Giselle knew very well that it would take some bit of accomplishing to get Navarre to show her anything
. She’d known
this morning when Gerty brought in her breakfast tray, and she’d
been so optimistic, too!

She’d been sending sealed missives to Navarre for two days
now, and all he did was return them unopened. It was maddening. She thought she’d finally succeeded last night, though. She’d had Louisa address
it and give it to a manservant to deliver.

That it was returned unopened on Giselle’s breakfast tray had
almost brought her to tears again.

“Have I offended you in some way, Giselle?”
Esmee asked.

“Me
? Offended? Oh, please, Esmee, why
would you ask such a thing?”

She read a stanza four times and still didn’t know the words
. It
was more interesting to listen for Esmee’s reaction.

“You seem…different today
,” Esmee said slowly. “Forgive me, Giselle.
I’m
letting my imagination run amok. It has
been since the ball. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed, with the way
you’ve been attending to Etienne lately.”

Now…wh
o could
have told her such a thing?
Giselle didn’t know why she asked herself
the question. She already knew the answer. Gerty was forever
gossiping, and Giselle was playing the adoring wife whenever Gerty
was about.

“I’ll send for Navarre to show you the stables
…
but
don’t be surprised if he ignores my summons, too.”

Esmee looked
at Giselle from the doorway with an unreadable expression, and then she left, closing
the door softly behind her.

Giselle slammed the book shut
.
Everyone about her seemed an expert at
intrigue, while Giselle was such a novice it was almost a crime. She wondered
what had given her away. The book fell to floor as she stood and
walked over to a window, narrowing her eyes on the sunlit lawns.

She should have simply toured the maze
. The door opened behind her.

“Monsieur
Jean-Claude du Berchald!” a servant announced.

Giselle held in
a gasp as she swiveled, but she couldn’t prevent her next reaction. Her
mouth dropped. Her eyes widened. And her heart joined in with a faster rate.
Even though she was standing, it wouldn’t make any difference. Jean-Claude exceeded his brothers in height and wore heels on his pointed
shoes, too. From across the room, Giselle had to look
up at him.

“
The
Duchesse
Giselle,” the manservant finished as he closed the door.

Giselle heard
it through a fog. It felt, and sounded, like the words came from
very far away. Everything in the room faded. The only thing she was
capable of absorbing at the moment was Jean-Claude du Berchald.

Oh heavens!

The man was absolutely stunning. He was probably wearing court attire, but he could’ve
arrived from a ball, as well. His coat was fashioned of ice-blue brocade, heavily embroidered with silver, his breeches were silvery satin,
and his legs were encased in white hose.

It should have
looked absurd. It didn’t.

He had a small mustache, but
it didn’t
hide full lips. Since he was wearing a powdered wig, it was
impossible to tell if he’d inherited the Berchald coloring. The shade
of his mustache didn’t help. It was dark brown. Giselle considered herself a novice at male beauty, but knew instinctively that it didn’t
matter. Jean-Claude was an awesome specimen. And he knew it. One eyebrow was lifted
inquiringly at her reaction, one leg was posed in front of the other, and he smiled
slightly.

And then
was walking toward her, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Her eyes went even wider as he
stopped before her. Giselle had to crane her neck to continue looking
at him. She couldn’t move her gaze away.

“I’m enchanted to meet you finally, my dear
, dear sister.”

He bent at the waist to raise her hand to his lips
. Giselle was
grateful she still had her lips open as she sucked for one breath after
another.

“You’re probably wondering why I bother wearing heels,” he
continued.

Giselle
didn’t answer.

“
Well. I wear them because I
want to make certain I’m noticed.”

She snorted.

“I know.
It shouldn’t be a problem,
oui?”

He
didn’t relinquish her hand. He tucked it into the crook of his arm and moved
them toward the settee, taking long, slow steps. Giselle’s feet moved without conscious volition
. She couldn’t have stopped him, anyway. She hoped he wasn’t planning on sitting beside her. She didn’t know if she was
ready for such close contact.

But how could she have prepared for that?

He swiveled gracefully for a man his size, moved her hand into
his, and had her seated before she gained another breath. He then
hooked a chair with his foot and pulled it beneath him so it was there as he sat. Without looking. If
she hadn’t seen it happen, she wouldn’t have believed it. He hadn’t
even let go of her hand the entire time.

She was grateful he wasn’t sitting beside her,
yet timid about
it at the same time. He was probably closer this way. He swiveled his hand, sliding her fingers to rest atop his own, and then
he touched his lips to each fingertip, one at a time. Giselle hadn’t a prayer of
stopping a blush.

“Charmaine told me of your beauty
.”

He had paint on his face
. The line where it ended at his
neck was obvious. That explained the contrast of his facial hair.
There were black lines around his eyes, rouge on his cheeks, and he
had some sort of red paint on his nails.

All of which should have disgusted her
. She’d wondered what
the people at Louis, the Beloved’s court looked like, had received a
basic education from
Monsieur
Poinre, but it wasn’t preparation
enough. She realized that, now.

She had never felt so admired, feted, or adored
.
If he’d been blessed
with the Berchald eyelashes, they were swallowed in the black paint he’d lined about his eyes. That didn’t stop their impact.
Eyes the exact shade
of Navarre’s held hers and Giselle forced herself to swallow. It was like being too close to fire. It burned and yet drew her
simultaneously.

She saw what held
Mademoiselle
Frerre, and Jean-Claude had
entirely too much of it.

“Yet she told me nothing at all.”
He held her hand and her
gaze, and spoke with such sweetness she shivered. “And you’re so petite!
I’ve never seen anything so… hmm. What can I say? Beautiful?
Non.
Too
boring. Enchanting?
Non.
Over-used. There is no word capable of
describing you. But I know now why the
comte
kept you
hidden.”

To her shock, he
tightened his thumb and tipped her hand over. And then he kissed her on the
wrist! A long, lingering kiss! Another shiver ran her. Chilling. Disquieting. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, anymore. She wondered what
had changed.

He
released her hand, and sat back, inhaling deeply, well aware that
Giselle was watching. She hadn’t moved her eyes. She might have forgotten to blink.

“Ah
…that smell! Fresh country air. I had forgotten how….”

He
winked at her.
Giselle was appalled at another blush, but couldn’t tear her gaze
away. Jean-Claude didn’t need the heels. He was
impossible to miss, and equally impossible to ignore.

“…disgustingly healthy it smells
. Too many conflicting aromas for me.”

He pulled a small box from his jacket pocket
, placed a pinch of white powder under his nose, and sniffed it in.
Perhaps that was the arsenic she’d heard of. The thought must have transferred to her expression because he explained.

“
It’s snuff, my dearest.
Would you care for some?”
He sneezed against the lace at his
wrist and then held out the box.

Giselle pulled back and her eyes
moved down from his. He had the same Berchald nose. And he was
wearing a black patch. She hadn’t noted it earlier because of his mustache. He’d placed it beside his nose. She noted
the shape. A t
iny spider. She didn’t have the expertise to look away quickly
enough.

“
Oh. I’ve frightened you. Forgive me. I sometimes have that
affect…although usually on innocent young maidens, I admit.”

He
’d leaned forward again to study her, making the chair creak a
bit with his weight. Giselle blushed again. Ignominiously. Stupidly. If she kept reacting like this, he’d never believe she and Etienne had—
“Jean-Claude
! You should have warned us before you came.”

Esmee
interrupted, breezing through the door with Gerty behind her, carrying a tray of
delicacies. Jean-Claude appraised them silently. Giselle watched as even Gerty colored and dropped her eyes. He had that
affect on all females?

“Esmee
. You haven’t changed – always rushing in to save others
from my presence. She does that often, you know.”

He
said the last as an aside to
Giselle before he stood. Now that she wasn’t being threatened with the full extent of
his charm, it was easier to breathe. He dwarfed Esmee, making her
look small. He was easily the tallest of the Berchald men,
even without his heels. His powdered hairstyle only added unnecessary height.

He caught her staring as he turned back to his chair, and
Giselle looked to her lap. Her first impression was wrong. He didn’t look as
handsome as Navarre, after all…although it was hard to be certain with all that paint.

“Did Mother travel down with you, Jean-Claude?”

Esmee asked it as she
poured tea. Giselle was grateful. Her hands would shake
so badly, the cups would have clattered.