Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (5 page)

“I
s something wrong, Giselle?”

Her
white knuckles gave her away, or
perhaps it was the short gasps of breath she was taking. Giselle
couldn’t believe how stupid she must look. She shook her head and
focused her gaze on a spot between the horse’s ears. That seemed
safe enough.

“This is the very latest cabriolet. I bought it in Paris only two
months ago. It’s very smooth and fast. You’ll enjoy the ride, I think.”

They
’d reached the end of the driveway. Before passing
through the stone gate posts, Giselle forced herself to be brave enough
to turn for a last glimpse of the chateau. It had such beautiful white stone and such aesthetically pleasing architecture. She’d almost forgotten how marvelous Antilli looked.

It was a shame it was
cold and harsh inside.

She turned back around just as Navarre flicked the reins
. She
was proud of the fact that she kept her squeal inside as the horse increased its stride. She’d never moved so fast before — or been so
far off the ground. It felt like they were flying.

“
I told you it was enjoyable,” Navarre said from beside her. “How do you think it compares?”

“
To what?”

He shook his head. Giselle saw the motion of his shadow on
the footrest before them.

“With other carriages
. I told you it was fast.”

“
I’m
no judge. I-I’ve never ridden before, nor have I
been aboard a…what did you call it? A cabriolet?”

“No!”

The word showed his astonishment, as did his shadow. She
watched the movement of it, equal in size to hers due to her parasol.

“
Never? I don’t believe it. The
Antillions are renowned for their
excellent stable. I don’t understand.”

“It’s true.” Giselle shrugged.

“Why’d they keep you from such a thing? I don’t
understand.”

She shrugged again, and his shadow turned away from hers.

“I suppose it’s because of Savignen Valley, isn’t it?”

Giselle moved her gaze up from contemplating his shadow on
the footrest to the horse’s head. She’d been told to allow him to
do the talking. That was terrible advice.
“Perhaps,” she replied.

“If
you don’t wish to speak of it, I’ll understand.”

“It isn’t that, Na…varre.” Her voice caught midway through his name. She didn’t dare look to him to see if he heard it
. She took
a deep breath.

“Why did the
duc
not send for me sooner, Navarre?”

Giselle was amazed at her own words, and immediately wished them unsaid as she felt him withdraw. Even though they were
side-by-side, she felt Navarre pulling away. She dared a glance up at him and watched a nerve in his jaw twitch.

Will he tell me the truth?

Then she wondered how she knew what he was thinking. Giselle turned her attention to the view ahead. There were tiny buds on the tree branches, and the new green of spring grass was
everywhere.

“Etienne…keeps his own counsel, Giselle
.
I’m
sorry.”

She looked at him and met the purplish-blue gaze she’d been
avoiding. He truly looked sorry…and something else. Something incredible.
She couldn’t believe how aware and alive she felt. She was
gloriously attuned to the surroundings, almost aglow
. Her eyes widened at the moment his
narrowed, and then he licked his lips.

Giselle reeled,
her breath caught. Her mind stopped. Of their own
volition, her lips parted. All of that was not only mystifying, but it angered him. He
cursed, pulled his eyes from hers. Giselle fought the
impulse to cover her ears at his words. She’d never heard words such as he used.

She watched the trees at the side of her as he controlled himself
, after scooting as far away as she could.
It didn’t help that the dress didn’t move with her, and she simply slid
within the confines of the petticoats.

Navarre
had finished and silence descended. Giselle listened to his
harsh breathing, broken only by the slight creak of the wheels, the
horse’s occasional snort, and the twittering of birds in the trees. It
was an uncomfortable silence, and she didn’t know what to say.

She glanced over her shoulder at him
. She’d been wrong earlier. His nose wasn’t large at all. And that was a dangerous thought.

“
Forgive me, Navarre…for speaking as I did,” she whispered.

He sighed and looked at her, holding her gaze for a moment
before turning back to his driving. “No. I must apologize. And hope you forgive me.
I had a story prepared in the event you asked me about him, but I find I cannot lie to you, after all.”

She watched as he transferred the reins into one hand.

“
Etienne hasn’t been the same since the accident.
He…hides, you see.”

“Hides?”
Of all the scenarios she’d created, she hadn’t thought
of that one.

“
I can’t even say for certain if you’ll meet with him when you arrive.
He…keeps his own counsel.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t know what else to say. Perhaps her husband didn’t even know she was coming. That was a sobering thought.
Perhaps he was disabled to the point her Papa had hinted at. Giselle’s heart went out to her husband, hiding in his castle. She’d been doing
the same thing.

“Thank you for telling me this, Navarre.”

He relaxed beside her. Giselle couldn’t tell exactly how —
perhaps it was the shift of his shoulders. She smiled. For once, her height was an advantage. She had the seat against her back, but
Navarre was too tall for it to be of use.

“I’ve arranged a light supper at the Minot farmhouse
. We’ll
change horses, and you’ll enjoy
Madame
Minot’s cooking as much as
I do, I’m
certain.”

After endless meals of porridge, she would enjoy anything
different.

Navarre smiled as he spoke, and she followed the motion to his
eyes before glancing away. He had incredible eyes.
Perhaps my husband is blessed with such eyes, too.
Her heart quickened at the
thought.

Louisa had said Etienne set Janelle to flirting at the ceremony
with his handsomeness. Giselle had to hold onto that thought and
ignore Navarre’s bulk beside her. That’s what she told herself she
had to do.

She smelled
Madame
Minot’s cooking long before they
reached the farmhouse. She knew Navarre did, too. It was a delicious aroma, like frying bacon or roast pork, and she’d thought those smells long
forgotten.

“Minot!”

Navarre shouted it as they came into the clearing. Beside him,
Giselle jumped at the noise. She hoped he wouldn’t notice it. People
hadn’t shouted around her for years.
The door to the home opened, and a woman almost too large to
walk came out. She was followed by a rail-thin man. Giselle had to
look away before they saw her instant smile.

“Monsieur
and
Madame
Minot, may I introduce la
Duchesse,
Giselle. Etienne’s wife.”

Giselle
turned back to the couple. She noticed
that
Madame
Minot was staring intently at them. It made Giselle
more self-conscious, and she had to look aside again.

“Come, Giselle,”
Navarre continued.
“Madame
Minot is
well-known for her culinary skills, and I’m famished.”

The vehicle swayed again as he got out, and Giselle gripped to
the railing until it calmed. Both Minots greeted him warmly
, and the sight of his laughing face made her heart flutter
strangely. He turned back to her.

Again, his large hands encircled her waist, although this time,
he swung her into his arms and walked to the house. Giselle’s eyes went wide and her breathing quickened. And he held her for the entire
eleven steps! She knew the number. She counted each
one. She’d never been touched by any man, let alone carried
intimately by one! It was incredible. Amazing. Shocking.

“
I couldn’t allow your dress to touch the mud, Giselle.”

He set
her on the porch, explaining although she hadn’t said a word. She
was incapable of speech. She was trying to erase the memory of the
feel of his chest against her breast, and his arms about her body. The
seamstress,
Madame
Broussard, hadn’t given Giselle enough material to prevent the sensations.

She couldn’t raise her face and meet his eyes, because she
couldn’t stop blushing long enough.

“You’re very pretty,
Madame
la
Duchesse.”

Giselle smiled her thanks to the man who was so much
thinner
than his wife, it looked absurd.

“She’s more than that, Jacques,”
Madame
Minot said with a
curtsy. “She is
tres belle.”
She motioned them into the house.
“Sometimes I think that man of mine is blind.”

The table before them seemed to groan under the weight of all
the food on it. Navarre led Giselle to a separate table, elegantly covered
with fine linen, placed beside a diamond-paned window. Giselle’s widened and she turned her gaze to the view. She was going to dine…intimately with a
man
?

Oh my
. Heavens! Louisa and Isabelle couldn’t have foreseen this! Perhaps the sight of the
grounds outside would calm the heat she felt rising through her chest and into her cheeks, but she
doubted it.

After all, she had Navarre du Berchald as a dining
companion.

The main course was roast pork, as she’d suspected, but
Madame
Minot glazed hers with a mixture of sweet and sour Giselle couldn’t place. She watched with much interest as Navarre devoured it while she moved pieces of food about her plate.

He caught her
watching him.
“You don’t eat very much, do you, Giselle?
Is that how you stay so small?”

“
I can’t change my size,
Monsieur,’”
she answered in what she hoped was a cool
tone. “But, as it happens,
I’m
quite replete.”

It was true. She’d already sampled the first courses
Madame
Minot placed before her, and Navarre was right when he praised her culinary skill. Her
bouillabaisse
stew was exciting to taste, and so
were her rolls. Giselle had decided she was tasting nirvana long before the main course was placed before her.

She waited for his reply, unable to look away even if she wished
. Navarre lifted his napkin to lips moistened with glaze, and
Giselle was amazed to feel the area behind both of her knees tingle.
She couldn’t prevent the widening of her eyes as he lifted one
eyebrow at her words and dropped his napkin to the table.

Such eyes
! Such lashes! Merde!
She had to cease
looking! There was no excuse for such behavior, and it was starting to make a knot form in the base of her throat.

He lowered his gaze then, freeing her to swallow, but it was
more of a gulp. The waning sunlight tipped his lashes with gold.
Giselle couldn’t bear to continue looking, yet was unable to move her
glance away.

“You’re right, and I shouldn’t tease, Giselle.”
He sighed and
looked out the window.

Oh no
!
That was worse, if there was such a thing!

She found it
difficult to follow what he was saying. In profile, he was even more handsome
.
She
hadn’t noticed before that his lower lip was so full, but it was obvious now as she watched him speak.

Oh
!
This was intolerable.

“
…Antillions aren’t known for their large size, it’s just….” He stopped, as if searching for the right words. “You’ll see when you meet
Esmee. She’s almost as tall as I am, but then, we’re known for our
height. It’s something every history book refers to….”

Louisa should
’ve told Giselle more about men. Then again, how
could anyone have described this Navarre? What would Louisa have used for a reference? The only men Giselle had seen were
menservants, the priest, and Papa. Navarre was from another realm entirely.

There was a faint shading of light brown on his upper lip
. It
wasn’t a mustache, but perhaps the beginning of one. Giselle
wondered if it would be noticeable…when he kissed someone.

He turned and caught her looking
. Whatever he was saying stopped the moment his eyes met hers. Giselle gasped in dismay and dropped her eyes to her lap. The situation was impossible! She had just
met this man, and he was her husband’s brother. The
Bon Dieu
would never forgive the train of thought she’d been pursuing! It was evil. Illicit. Sinful.

“Perhaps we should be leaving.”

He rose from his chair and she nodded. She was close to tears and
shivering with the effort of stopping them. The peach of
her dress blurred as she looked down at it.

“Have you no wrap, Giselle?”

She couldn’t answer. He held out his hand. Any words would give her away. She shook her head.

“It’ll be colder now, but I have blankets. Come, or
we’ll be late at the castle.”

His hand was very warm
. Giselle held to it briefly, releasing him the moment she stood, but she couldn’t erase the memory as
easily. She was being plagued with the new experiences, and she
wasn’t ready! It was worse than intolerable. And he would
probably carry her back to his cabriolet! She didn’t know if she
could stand it, and he didn’t give her any acclimate herself to it, either.

“Giselle,
please. The horse grows restless.”

He stood in the mud with his arms out toward her, but
her feet wouldn’t cooperate. Her entire body trembled with just the thought…of his
touch. The intimacy of his arms about her. She didn’t even dare look at him.

“
I won’t harm you.”

Giselle raised her eyes and
met his gaze. She felt t
he blood drain from her face, watched dark spots dance before her eyes, and held her breath. She couldn’t faint! Not now. That would be more ignominious than she could imagine.

Giselle?”