Brocade Series 02 - Giselle Read online

  She couldn’t explain how strange it felt. It was almost like she’d stepped onto an icy spot during her winter walk and fallen without warning.

  “Monsieur has just been explaining why his brother, the duc, couldn’t come in person, Giselle,” Papa said. “I’m certain you’ll find the answer as interesting as I do, won’t you, my dear?”

  Papa had never spoken like that to her before. There was an insinuation in his tone that she couldn’t place. This Navarre heard it, too. She watched Papa pour cognac for himself and drink it, purposely refraining from asking Navarre if he’d like one, too.

  Although Navarre stood an arms-length away, she felt him stiffen at the insult.

  “My brother, Etienne, would’ve come, but he’s been…indisposed for some time, Monsieur le Comte.”

  “Indisposed?”

  Giselle spoke without meaning to, and she wasn’t prepared when Navarre looked at her again. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, although the sheen of dislike in his was easy to see.

  “The duc suffered a riding accident when he was twenty-one, Madame”

  He bowed, then looked away again.

  “A riding accident?” Papa asked. “He’s not disabled, is he? We should’ve been informed earlier, Monsieur”

  Giselle looked at Papa, seeing him as Navarre was, and she felt the shame. It was as if the emotion he’d always shown her was directed entirely at the man beside her. She was used to it, but it embarrassed her to see it exhibited. She stiffened and turned back to her new relative.

  “When am I expected, Monsieur?”

  She tensed for the strange power of his gaze, and wasn’t disappointed. Purplish-blue eyes questioned her, and Giselle’s heart pumped more color into her cheeks. She didn’t flinch as she lifted her chin. He had no reason for his dislike of her. She wasn’t an Antillion. She was a Berchald, just as he was.

  He smiled slightly. “When your luggage has been collected, Madame.”

  Mon Dieu!

  Giselle couldn’t continue looking at him if she couldn’t control the reaction better. Her cry was audible as she looked away. She could only hope he wouldn’t guess the cause.

  “Chateau Berchand isn’t far, Madame la Duchesse,” he said softly.

  “Of course it isn’t.”

  Giselle squirmed in embarrassment as her Papa interrupted rudely.

  “It’s on the other side of Savignen Valley. Just as it’s always been.”

  She recognized the bitterness that filled his words for what it was. She felt a kinship with Navarre as they both looked to the comte.

  “I must keep you no longer, Monsieur. I’ll await my kinswoman outside.”

  He turned to Giselle, surprising her. She didn’t have any experience on how to stop him as he reached for her hand again. She desperately tried to control her breathing, but confined in the dress as she was, all she could do was gasp for air.

  “Don’t keep me waiting overlong, Giselle.”

  Oh my! He’d called her Giselle!

  She managed to nod as he released her hand and moved away. Her eyes followed him. She had to remember that he wasn’t her husband. He wasn’t Etienne. But how was she supposed to do that?

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Monsieur le Comte.”

  Navarre bowed stiffly to her father, an insult in itself, then he walked out the front door. Silence followed him. Giselle tried to control herself. Something was wrong. She was experiencing tremors. She had to stop the reaction. But how? She was still fighting her own pulse when her papa spoke.

  “If this Etienne is disabled, you are to return home, Giselle. At once. Do you understand? The wedding will be annulled at once. At once, do you hear?”

  Giselle caught herself almost nodding and saying ‘Yes, Papa,’ like she’d always done, but something stopped her. She knew what it was, too. It was the man awaiting her outside.

  “This isn’t my home, Monsieur le Comte d’Antillion. It’s a surprise that you would say so, for it hasn’t been for some time.”

  She curtsied formally to him, and felt sudden strength filling her. Louisa was right — she was free.

  “Good-bye, Monsieur le Comte.”

  She walked to the stairs, vaguely surprised that he had no reply, and that she had been so brave. She climbed the first flight sedately, but was racing them before she reached the chambers. And that was stupid. She was out of breath.

  “Well?” Louisa asked.

  “Well…what?”

  “I saw how you acted. Come. You have to tell us. We’re on tenterhooks, aren’t we, Isabelle?”

  Isabelle simply shrugged, and Louisa tossed her hands. “I will not tolerate this attitude. I want to know what you think, and I want to know now.”

  Giselle giggled, and it felt strange, too. Everything did. “I find this Navarre large, rude, overpowering…and extremely handsome. Does that make you happy?”

  “Only if I get to see your face when you meet the duc.”

  Louisa clapped her hands, as if she were responsible for the turn of events.

  “As I recall, Etienne is even paler than Navarre. His hair is lighter. He is taller, too.”

  “No one could be taller,” Giselle replied. “I’m dwarfed, I tell you. I won’t stand for it.”

  “Oh, Giselle.” Louisa chuckled. “As if he could change his size. You say the silliest things, sometimes.”

  She was right, and Giselle had thought much the same thing already.

  “Hurry. Take up your pelìsse, so you don’t keep him waiting.’’

  Isabelle assisted her with the light shawl, fashioned in the same yellow shade as her petticoats. Giselle watched her image in the mirror as the maid draped it over her shoulders. Then, she met the women’s eyes. They both had the strangest smile on their faces.

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Isabelle and I will follow with your clothing. You are a married woman. You’ve no need for a chaperon. We were informed that this Navarre came in a light chaise, and we wouldn’t have fit, anyway. He’s a nobleman, Giselle. Don’t fret. You’ll be well taken care of.”

  Giselle’s eyes went wide.

  “What? I have to travel with him…alone? I can’t! You don’t know—” She caught her tongue, before she spilled it. They didn’t know how much he affected her.

  “We don’t know what?”

  “I’ve never done this. How can you ask it of me?”

  “Giselle.” Louisa clucked her tongue.

  “I can’t do it, Louisa. I can’t. What will I speak of?”

  “Say nothing. Let him talk. That’s what men enjoy most, isn’t it, Isabelle?”

  Giselle had never known Isabelle to have a man, so it was no surprise that the maid simply lifted her eyebrows and said nothing. Oh…Giselle was so woefully ignorant of such things. How could she possibly ride beside this Navarre? The sight of him stole her breath and gave her shivers. Being alone with him would be more than she could imagine.

  “Go, Giselle. Enjoy your first ride. It’s the first of many new experiences. You must tell me all about it the moment you arrive at the castle. Just think! You’re riding in a new chaise, wearing a beautiful new dress with a handsome escort at your side. And before you go to sleep tonight, you’ll meet your husband, Etienne. Isn’t it exciting?”

  Giselle’s expression answered for her. She knew how worried she looked, for she glimpsed herself in the mirror before she left.

  Louisa was right. Again. Giselle counseled herself as retraced her steps down the staircases. It is a new experience. She should feel excited and a little fearful. There‘s nothing wrong with that. Dare she tell this Navarre that she’d never traveled before? How could she? She couldn’t even look at him. How could she speak with him?

  Her chin rose.

  She wouldn’t tell him. It couldn’t be that frightening, and if it was, it couldn’t last long. And…she was going to meet her husband!

  Giselle’s heart skipped a beat as she neared the doors. That wasn’t a good si
gn. Then she passed the Major Domo, and walked out and into such sunshine, her eyes squinted. And there was Navarre, standing beside one of his horses, stroking the animal’s nose. Giselle gulped. He had a very large horse. Giselle would have been terrified, for it was so very large in comparison to her.

  Oh…why wasn’t she tall like Isabelle? She’d rather be statuesque, instead of tiny. It couldn’t be helped. Giselle walked down the steps, across a red carpet, and approached Navarre.

  “Ah. There you are. Come. Allow me to help you up,” he said.

  Giselle eyed him warily as he walked to the half-open door of the open carriage. Help me up?

  “Have you no parasol? I’m afraid your skin won’t last long in the sun.” He looked around. “Perhaps you should send for one. Have you a maid?”

  Giselle nodded and watched as he sent a servant off on the errand. She felt even more foolish. She should have thought of a parasol before she came down.

  “You don’t deliberately whiten your skin, do you, Giselle? I’ve heard of women who do, and it’s a dangerous beauty secret. Come. I won’t harm you.”

  Giselle longed to say something to his chatter, but she was afraid her voice wouldn’t work. It had something to do with the immense hands reaching for her.

  “You’re very small. I’m not certain what Etienne will say about that. We’re not used to such women. I’m afraid you’ll break at any moment.”

  His hands easily encircled her waist, and Giselle couldn’t help blushing. It was too intimate, but she hadn’t any resource to tell him so. He lifted her high into the air and onto the narrow bench. Oh my! Her skirts made it even more strange. She’d never had such a volume of material about her. It made it difficult to feel the structure beneath her. It was also high in the air. She shut her eyes.

  If I fall….

  The vehicle swayed. Giselle squealed in terror and her eyes flew open.

  “Giselle?”

  He spoke softly, and glanced to where she’d gripped his arm. It was simply Navarre stepping in that had made the vehicle sway. Giselle waited for her heart to calm, the relief was so strong, she felt giddy.

  “What is it?”

  Giselle couldn’t answer. He was too close. She could see muscles in his thighs! They were clearly defined through the green satin breeches. She’d never seen any man to compare. Oh. This was terrible. She had to concentrate to unlock her fingers from his arm as she studiously avoided looking anywhere near him.

  “You’re frightened? Don’t be. It’s not a terrible thing to be a Berchald. You’ll see. Look. Here’s your maid with your parasol.”

  Giselle looked down at Louisa, terrified again. The woman was so far below them.

  “Enjoy your drive, Giselle.”

  The governess squeezed Giselle’s hand. She tried to smile in reply, but it felt more like a grimace. Beside her, she heard Navarre cluck his tongue, and Giselle grabbed the rail beside her in surprise. The chateau moved past in a blur, and she tightened her grip. Perhaps, if she looked above the horse’s head instead of at the ground, it wouldn’t seem so fast.

  “Is 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?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  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.”

&n
bsp; 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.