Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (7 page)

The headboard seemed built for giants, too, because it ended in
the darkness above the level of the light. Giselle followed the maroon shaded drapes on either side of the bed to the top of the headboard where
they disappeared somewhere in the gloom.

“Your wardrobe has been arriving daily,
Madame.”
The
housekeeper bowed as she left. “This is Gerty. She’ll assist you until your own maid arrives. I’m certain you’ll be comfortable, but, if you need anything, the bell is here.”
Madame
Dessard walked to one side of the bed
and showed Giselle the cord.

“Merci
.”

Giselle watched the door shut, then she slid down
a bed post to the edge of the partition on which the bed sat. The
room overwhelmed her. The entire experience was beginning to, and
she wished Louisa was here. She would’ve helped dispel the
depressive atmosphere of the room.

“Would you like a bath before bed,
Madame,
or shall I order
one for the morning?” Gerty approached where Giselle leaned
against the post.

“
The morning will do.”

“Very good,
Madame.
May I unhook you?
I’m
certain
Madame
would be more comfortable in bed,
non?”

Giselle longed to tell the girl that it was too much effort
. Too
much had happened. She just wanted to be alone, but she knew the gown wasn’t going to unhook itself.

“
Oh. Just look. You’ve been sewn into this. No wonder there’s few wrinkles.
There’s some that would call this wasteful, but not me. I’ve got more
to do than worry myself over the ways of the nobility. It’s no problem,
either. I’ve got my sewing-knife right here. Don’t you worry, we’ll
have you out of this and into your nightclothes immediately, just you
see.”

Giselle leaned forward and let the girl unpick Isabelle’s
stitches.

“Madame
is very petite. It’ll be a pleasure to see
Madame
gowned. And such gowns! We didn’t believe anyone could have
such a tiny waist. The entire staff….”

Giselle raised her hands to her temples as the girl kept
speaking. Finally, the bodice was opened and shed, and then came the skirts and then the corset.
Giselle had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be able to take a deep breath again.

Gerty held out a wispy nightgown and Giselle nodded. She longed to say that it didn’t matter, but the girl didn’t need any
encouragement to continue her prattle. Giselle watched in the mirror
as her new maid combed out all the curls and braided her hair loosely.
She looked as pale and drawn as she felt. Louisa had said Giselle
looked like a ghost, and right now, she’d have to agree.

Giselle sat at the vanity table as Gerty
walked over to her bedside, climbed the partition and lit a lone candle
. The maid was going to take the candelabra with her, and
Giselle nearly cried out to stop her. She’d never slept alone. She’d
always had Louisa and Isabelle in their rooms beside hers. She
would be isolated and so alone in that huge bed. Everything was strange.
Her bed at Antilli was against a stone wall. She always slept with
that at her back. She would feel unprotected in the
monstrosity they’d given her.

“The
duc
is just beyond this door,
Madame.
It’s usually kept
locked, but we thought it—I can lock it if you like.”

Giselle looked at the tall door and shook her head
. If she dared to lock that door, the staff would spend endless hours gossiping about
it. That much, she knew.

“That’s not necessary, Gerty. You’ve been
most efficient.
Merci.
”

The maid
dropped another curtsy and left, and the light seemed to slide
right out the door with her. Silence descended on the gloom of her new room, and Giselle looked to the ceiling again. She had time to
say her prayers. She wondered where it would feel safest to kneel.

She told herself she was being ridiculous
. It was just another
bedroom — a bit large and dark, but just another room. She stood, and was walking toward her dressing table when angry voices
came from the connecting door. One sounded like Navarre.

“
I told you meddling fools I’ll have no….!”

It was like Navarre, but not quite. By the sound she heard, the
door wasn’t completely shut. Giselle guessed the staff had left it that way on purpose.

She stood close to the door, holding her breath, as she realized
the man who had spoken had to be Etienne. Her husband.

“…had to bring her here
! I had no other choice. You should
count your blessings she’s as lovely as she is.”

Now…that voice was
definitely Navarre,
she thought with a smile.

“Lovely? What
do you know of it?”

Giselle heard glass breaking, cursing, and then someone sobbing.

“Etienne, if you’d listen—”

“
Listen? You’re all fools! And she can go to hell with the rest of you!”

Something struck the door, sending it against Giselle’s nose
.
Tears started in her eyes at the shock.

He threw something at the door
! As if he knew I
was listening!

She turned to run to
the bed but her toes caught in the hem of
the nightgown, and she fell, stifling a squeal. And a moment later there was another slamming sound in the other room. Giselle didn’t wait. It didn’t matter how monstrous and strange her new bed was. It was safer than staying there.

The connecting door was open when Giselle woke the next
morning. She blinked to clear her eyes and wiped at them as she
stared. It had been closed when she huddled beneath the sheet,
heavily embroidered with lace. It was also closed when the only witness to her crying had been the sputtering candle.

It wasn’t closed now, though
. It was even more obvious because of the glow of dawn that came from in there. Giselle stared at the portal, wondering why
Etienne’s room was so much brighter than her own. It looked like the only light in Giselle’s rooms came from the open door.

She wondered why it was open
. Had he come into her room
while she slept? And what must he think? He
probably thought his wife was tiny. She barely showed since she’d slept with her back
against the headboard. It was the only place in that massive bed that she felt secure.

Giselle slipped
out, her toes flinching at the chilled floor
. She was intrigued beyond measure. Why, after seeing his new wife, had he left the door open?
There was an open book on the floor just inside his chamber. That must be
the object he threw against it the previous night.

The light in the room dazed her, and she shielded her eyes with
her hand as she ventured in. The view from his window was
spectacular, and she saw Savignen Valley just over the parapet. Navarre had said
Savignen was best when viewed at dawn. It
was true. And Etienne’s windows were open, explaining the chill, but she was
putting off the inevitable. The view wasn’t why she’d come.

Giselle turned slowly back to the bed.

The ducal chambers were larger than hers, and much brighter.
Giselle wondered who had decorated it that way. Etienne’s bedding
was of light material, almost silver, frothy with black lace. Her eyes widened.

He
slept front-down on his bed, and he hadn’t changed from his
evening clothes. Perhaps he hadn’t changed in some time. For the
first time, Giselle looked carefully at the room and saw that it hadn’t been cleaned in a long time, either. If the windows were closed, the
smell would’ve been terrible. Wine decanters lay about, some
broken, some staining the carpets with old wine. She’d
never seen such filth before.

Etienne
snorted and moved in his sleep. Giselle held her breath and
waited. His breeches could’ve been gray, brown, or black. It was
hard to tell the original color from the condition of them. He wore a
shirt that was torn at one sleeve, and there were wine stains down it.

Is he a drunkard
? Is that the disability no one
speaks about?

He settled back, turning his face toward her and she
approached the bed slowly. She had to see how he compared to his
brother, Navarre. Etienne may be taller, but not by much. The legs that
stretched to the floor were shapely, too, although his hose were streaked with stains.

She stepped up onto the pedestal and held her breath. He was
blond, too, but it was hard to tell if the lanky strands on the sheets
were dark blonde, or as light as Esmee’s, due to the filth of him. He
had a fine golden beard on both cheeks, which narrowed his face. It didn’t look groomed. It looked more like he’d
neglected to shave.

He was disgusting, and yet his nose was almost like Navarre’s,
and the eyelashes were easily as long. It was hard to tell, because they were so blonde. Giselle caught her breath as he stirred, and then
she noticed his mouth.

He had the same full lips
. That’s when she decided he was every bit
as handsome as his brother. With a bath, shave and decent clothing,
he’d be stunning. Still, she was only guessing. After all, she was a novice at male beauty.

An eye opened, and she caught his glance
. The eyes were
vivid blue, not purple-blue as she’d expected. Giselle gasped and
held her hands across her breast as he blinked, stared, and then blinked
again.

And then he sc
owled, causing sharp lines to furrow down both cheeks. Giselle
stepped back quickly, stumbling as she reached the
floor.
Oh dear.
She shouldn’t have come in. She should’ve waited. And she definitely should have worn a robe!

Giselle watched his g
aze travel over her, revealed in the
morning light through her transparent negligee. She covered her breasts
with her hands, but that didn’t fix anything. And one side of his mouth lifted at her movement.

“What…do
you want?”

His voice was rough, deep, and filled with
malice. He lifted himself up onto his elbows. His filthy mass of hair was in bad need of care and hung limply to the covers. If it were washed, it would
probably be as blonde as Esmee’s she decided, stupidly.

She stumbled back another step.

“Get out! Out! I won’t be looked at in such a fashion!”

Giselle turned and ran, slamming the door and locking it the
instant it shut. She didn’t care if the servants talked. Let them. She
refused to ever open it again. Etienne was horrid.

And h
e
frightened her.

Giselle ran back to her bed and huddled beneath the covers.
She was still there when Louisa came in to wake her for the day.

“Such a to-do your arrival has caused, Giselle,” she said. “
I swear they talk of nothing but la petite
duchesse
this and la petite
duchesse
that! My, but this is a dreary room. I’ve never seen such a
dungeon. Why would they decorate your chambers in such a heavy
fashion?”

Louisa
walked to the window. With some effort, she pulled aside
the drapes, letting sunshine flood the room. “Well? What do you think of
this change in station, Giselle? Isn’t it lovely to be free to do what
you wish?”

“
I hate it,” she replied.

Louisa stared at her
.

“Are you ill
? You’ve not taken a chill, have you? I was hoping we’d be finished with the doctors.
There’s no need. You’re no invalid. You never were.”

“
I want to go home.” Tears filled Giselle’s eyes again, and she
couldn’t stop them. “Oh, Louisa, I wish I hadn’t come. I want to go
back. Can you arrange it?”

Louisa climbed onto the bed, sat beside Giselle
, and took her
hand.

“
Giselle, my dearest. I’ve been with you for over fifteen years.
You must never wish for that. Your father kept you imprisoned.”

“It’s
better than here.”

“
But why? Was your handsome escort rude to you? Did he
frighten you?”

“No.”

“Then, what?”

“I…I met Etienne.” Giselle looked away.

Louisa sighed and released Giselle’s hand. “I was hoping to
talk to you before you met with him. It’s not easy for a man of his
abilities and looks to be so disabled. It must be a heavy cross to
bear.”

“He drinks, Louisa. What disability is there in being a drunkard?”

“Who told you that? I’m surprised at you, Giselle. The man’s back was broken. He’s an invalid.
He cannot move his legs. He hasn’t been able to since the accident.” Louisa
scooted from the bed and stepped down to floor level. “I heard rumors
about it when it happened, but I refused to tell the
comte. Non.
He
would have annulled the marriage.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Giselle, you’ve been treated unfairly for years, yet
defend your family? I knew of Etienne when he married. He charmed everyone. I believe
that man still exists. You’ll just have to find him.”

“You’re wrong, Louisa
. He’s not charming. He’s uncouth,
cruel and…he frightens me.”

“Giselle, surely you’re being unfair
. You frighten easily, don’t
you? Is it his fault he tried to claim his husbandly rights, and that you’re little more than a child? That’s what normally happens when
a man and woman marry. I assume that’s what we’re discussing,
non?”

Husbandly rights?

Giselle’s mouth fell open. Then closed
. She couldn’t force the words through her lips. She
shivered with distaste at the thought of intimacy with the unshaven,
unbathed, hateful man in
the next room. She’d rather die.
Louisa had explained about intimacy, and the emotions Giselle
would experience with her husband, but she didn’t want that with
Etienne.

If it had been Navarre, however….

Le Bon Dieu!
She couldn’t finish the
thought.

“Madame
is awake?”

Someone knocked on the door
.
Louisa answered and let in Gerty with a breakfast tray. Giselle
didn’t say a word as the tray was placed atop her lap. She was speechless at the array. She recognized grape juice and a poached egg, but she’d never seen pastries such as this Chef Aaron made.

“Where’s Isabelle?”
Giselle asked once Gerty had left.

“Don’t avoid the subject with me, Giselle
!
I’m
asking you to give it time. Perhaps you’ll get over your fear. Only time will
tell.”

There was another knock
. Louisa went to answer it.

“You ordered a bath, Giselle?”

She’d forgotten it until then. “Oh. Yes. I did. And I’d love a bath.”

She
watched as a hip bath was set in the middle of the floor. Two maids
emptied buckets into it before curtsying and going out for more
water.

“Finish your breakfast
.” Louisa told her. “You’ve so much to do.
I’m
certain
Madame
Esmee will give you instructions on the many duties of running the castle.”

Giselle didn’t want duties
. She wanted her chambers back at
Antilli. She wanted her safety back.
Still,
she reasoned,
if Etienne was an invalid, that explained his strange movement as he lifted
up in bed.
It didn’t explain his drunken, filthy condition,
though. Nothing did.

Chef Aaron made flaky pastries
. Giselle enjoyed as many bites
as she could hold. If she continued eating this well, she’d soon grow
out of her new clothes.

Isabelle came in next and held open the door as
more maids
returned with more water. Giselle supposed she had Esmee to thank
for such efficiency. She’d never given much thought to running a
household. Antilli seemed to run by itself. But she could learn it.

If Etienne was
disabled, then he probably misinterpreted her
curiosity. That could explain the ugliness of his words. Still, she
could hardly tell him the truth, that she was comparing him to his
brother.

While Giselle bathed, she tried to ignore the myriad of women
intent on duties within the bedchamber. Before she’d finished she decided to unlock the
connecting door. After all, she and Etienne were wed. They would have to reach an
understanding of some kind. Louisa was right again, and Giselle was getting heartily sick of that.

She would give it time.

~

Giselle was exhausted before luncheon, and it was getting more
and more difficult to disguise it. Esmee took her through the lower
rooms, but Giselle was lost before the library, and definitely before
they reached the Blue Salon again. The floor of the foyer that split the main castle was checkered with alternating black and white marble
tiles.
They were beautiful and highly polished, and continued into all
the rooms opening from the foyer. The most commonly used rooms were
to the right of the hall. There were drawing rooms, three dining
rooms, the
duc’s
study, and a morning room.

To the left of the hall were the little-used rooms — salons,
ballrooms and weapons rooms. In the latter, Giselle was awed to see five full suits of armor on display.
The kitchens were to the back of the castle. Giselle found it
hard to believe that the chef made such extraordinary pastries in such dark and small surroundings.