Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (40 page)

“Thank you for leaving me this, Sister.”

Giselle pressed the book of verse into the nun’s hands. Her eyes filled, along with Sister
Evangeline’ s.

“Don’t cry, Sister
,” Giselle said. “I am content.”

“Mademoiselle
Patrice, you possess a lovely spirit. The
church will benefit from it. You have no regrets?”

“Non
.”
Giselle looked away, unable to meet the nun’s gaze as she lied.

“Very good
. Please have a seat, and we’ll begin. I brought
sanctified water.”

“Merci
.”
Giselle dipped her fingers into the holy water in order to trace a cross upon her front.

Navarre!

She couldn’t seem to banish his image. It was as if
he mocked her from the mirror. She looked away at the cross above
her bed, the rosary hanging beneath it, and the small window.

A knock stopped Sister Evangeline’s hand before she made the
first cut. A hint of impatience crossed her face before she dropped Giselle’s hair — not that she’d ever let that be known. The sisters let
no emotion upset their calm. Giselle wondered how long it would be
before she achieved that, and if she ever would.

“Mother Superior requests
Mademoiselle
Patrice’s presence,
Sister,” a voice called.

“The
mademoiselle
hasn’t been prepared yet.”

“It is of the upmost importance, Sister.”

“Very well, but this is most irregular.”

Giselle watched Sister Evangeline shut the door on the young
novice’s face before walking back to her.

“
I can’t think what the mother wants,
Mademoiselle,
but we
must do as we are requested in this life,
non?”

She acted so much like Louisa, Giselle averted her eyes
.
Her hair was hidden under a wimple. Giselle saw how dreary
she would look in the future just before they left her cubicle.

Light fell on Sister Evangeline’s head from the high windows
. Bright. Probably warm. I
t didn’t reach Giselle. That was all right. She didn’t deserve it
. It seemed God was letting her know of it, yet again. All she
knew was she was cold and heartsick and worn out.

Was she ready
? She doubted
she’d ever be ready.

The slight scrape of their slippers against the stone was
tempered by the bare hint of singing as they walked, passing rows of
ancient, insipid tapestries. Giselle quickly quelled such musings. The
convent was dedicated to poverty after all, removing any comparison
with her past.

She thought momentarily of Chateau Berchand with all its
polished halls and expensive furnishings, and the white magnificence
of Chateau Antilli, then told herself to be humble. Of course the hangings bore little resemblance to what she was accustomed to,.
Just as the large-weave cotton chemise rubbing
against her skin bore no resemblance to her silks.

The double doors leading to Mother Superior’s office loomed
.
Giselle waited patiently with Sister Evangeline while they were
opened.

“
This Sister Patrice? She’s very petite? With a pale
streak in her hair, like so? If she’s here, there is no payment enough.”

Navarre!

Giselle stopped the moment she heard his voice and knew
Sister Evangeline was watching. She couldn’t enter the room if he was there. She couldn’t bear it.
She was
exhausted trying to bear everything else, already.

Giselle could see his hand where he sat to one side of the
desk. There was lace from his shirt cuffs grazing his fingers. She
could also see a hat, a long leg clad in white hose, dark-blue velvet breeches, and silver-buckled shoes.

She made some sound and turned to run
. She had to hold her
hand over her mouth at the same time to hold the agony in. She couldn’t face him. Not now. Not when he
has everything, and she lost the only things that mattered. And she couldn’t return! She couldn’t bear to see
him with Charmaine!

And t
hat was what decided her.

Charmaine
had arrived during the Christmas season and taken over, gracing the dining table, sitting
in Giselle’s old spot, and murmuring double-edged words, now that
Giselle was just another dowager
duchesse. ‘
Such a horrid experience you’ve
been through. Such trauma. What a pity to lose your child, Giselle. It’s a triple tragedy for you, isn’t it? Not only have you lost your
husband and your position, but you lost the Berchald heir, too.

‘S
uch a shame. I won’t hasten your departure from the ducal
chambers, of course. But, you cannot stay there forever, now can
you? Navarre and I will be needing them. Navarre and I make such a lovely pair, don’t we? I’m certain the dower house will easily suit your needs. And think! You’ll have Mimi for company. I understand
Navarre has made it quite habitable. I know I speak for him when I offer you an assist on the move. We’ll try to make it…how can I say
it? Less emotional? Yes. That’s it. We’ll make it less emotional for
you.’

And then, Charmaine had laughed.

Giselle had somehow found the courage to ride a
Berchald horse. She’d left it at an inn, and then joined Isabelle for the ride on a
post coach.
She ran from Charmaine. She ran from all the Berchalds. And he had no right to find her!

Navarre
gave chase. She heard him. Giselle realized he could
outrun her before she reached her room, so she stopped. She should
have known she’d fail at escaping him, just as she failed at everything. She waited for her breathing
to calm as he neared.

“Giselle?”

She thought she was prepared, but a riot of shiver went
all the way through her, reaching the tips of her boots and the headdress atop her head.

“Will you not turn and face me?”

She shook her head.

“Why not
? I’ve spent a lot of time and effort to find you,
searching convent after convent.”

His sigh exposed her weakness, and she was glad she faced
away from him.

“The least your woman could have been was specific.”

Giselle smiled slightly at Isabelle’s loyalty.

“Is there someplace we can go with more privacy?”

She knew what he was referring to. It was rare for a handsome nobleman to chase a nun through the halls. The thought almost made
her light-headed.
They had an audience at the end of the hall ahead. She wondered
how many sisters were watching from behind them.

“
There’s no need for further privacy,
Monsieur
le
Duc.
I have
no desire…”

She had to somehow
force this lie from her lips. She had to be
strong enough
.
She made herself remember his words. He hated
the baby. He had probably rejoiced at the loss. That would make it
easier to woo the lovely Charmaine without any guilt on his
conscience, “…to speak with you.”

It would have had more bravado if she hadn’t lost the last word
in anguish. Giselle pressed her knuckles to her mouth to stop the
emotion.
He hated the baby,
she kept reminding herself.
He hated
the baby. He hated—
“Look at me, Giselle.”

She heard the tenderness in his voice, but it was Charmaine’s
property in the future. She had the right to hear such a tenor from
him, not Giselle.

He hated the baby.

She composed herself as best she could. Maybe if she made him understand she’d made her
decision and that it was useless to pursue her further, he’d leave.

And then maybe
she’d be able to sleep at night.

Another lie, Giselle
?

She turned and was grateful of a sudden there were only high
windows below the eaves letting in light. His was the only face to receive illumination. That was too much, though.
Giselle held her breath to look at him, and released it as slowly as
possible. If she were trying to pose disinterest, she was failing at that, too
.

He had more lace in his wardrobe than she recalled
. She tried
to think of him as foppish like Jean-Claude. She failed at that, too.
Where lace flowed from Navarre’s collar, it only strengthened his
appearance. That didn’t seem possible.

His face looked thinner. Perhaps that was
what made him look so masculine despite the lace. Nothing about
those violet-blue eyes had changed, and Giselle gasped, turning all
her avowals to dust when she met his gaze.

“T
hey tell me you haven’t completed your vows. Is that true?”

He stepped nearer, blocking out the light, and Giselle swore his
eyes darkened. She couldn’t stand for it, but she must.

“If
I say it’s too late, will you go?”

“Do you honestly want me to?”

He stepped closer still, leaning
his head toward her, and there wasn’t any room to back away.
She remembered those eyelashes, how their slight shading on
his cheeks made her heart pump color into her cheeks. She’d give anything to hide her blush.

“Oui
.”
She held out her hands to keep him away.

“
I don’t believe you.” He lowered his head, almost grazing her
lips as he smiled. Giselle felt the spark leap between them when he
did.

“Very well, Navarre, I admit it
. I love you. All right! I always will.”

Unpleasant shivers flowed down her arms as she bared her heart and
turned her face away. There was a tempest of tears behind her eyes,
but she wouldn’t let him see it. She wouldn’t tolerate his breath on
her neck a moment longer, either.

“You say you found hell, Navarre?” she asked bitterly. “You
don’t know the extent of it. I do. I found it the day I met you. Now
go, before I say something
I’ll
truly regret. Go.”

Giselle waited for him to leave. When he didn’t she had to
look back at him. There was a sheen of moisture coating his
expressive eyes, and hers filled, too.

“Why do you do this to me, Navarre?” Her voice croaked, and
there was little time left before trembling eroded it completely. “Isn’t
it enough to know I’ll always love you? Isn’t that enough for you? Why? I admit it. I love you. I love you so much, I can’t stand to see
you with another woman. So much so that I’ve chosen this.”

She gestured to the hall about them
. The interested faces at the
ends of the hall waited. They were foregoing their breakfast in order
to listen.

“Must you torture me further?” she begged. “Isn’t it enough to know you destroy my peace, my sleep, and my every waking
moment? Well? Isn’t it?”

She had failed again
. Giselle knew it as sobs overwhelmed her. She covered her face with her hands and shook with them.
Then, she wasn’t alone, and her tears were soaking into the front of
his jacket. She couldn’t keep from his embrace. She’d never been
able to. Her trembling was far shy of his, though, and she felt it like
a fresh wound.

“Why do you do this?” she asked. “
I already told myself
you’re out of reach for me. You always have been. And just when I think I can live with it
, you come again. Why? It’s hopeless, that’s what
it is, and you only prolong the hurt. Why must you do this?”

“Because I love you, Giselle.”

She couldn’t stand the catch in his voice. She shoved herself
free.

“Love
? Love means nothing to the nobility, Navarre! It’s less than nothing! We have our assigned roles to play,
and we do. We allow loveless match after loveless match.
Merde!
I wish I
were a member of the
bourgeois.
Perhaps then you could belong to
me. What am I saying? It can’t be. It never could.”

“Etienne was right, Giselle. You’re
rather delightful when you’re
angered.”

He smiled slightly, and she turned her back on him.

“Go away now, Navarre. I have no further use for you. Can’t you see? Go back to your role and let me choose mine. It’s the least
you can do.”

She walked to her cubicle door and opened it, trying to see through the tears in her eyes.

“Do you ever wonder what he, or she, would have looked like,
Giselle, deep in your self-righteous praying?”

Cold flooded over her as she realized what he asked
.
Her self-righteous praying?
Giselle tore off her wimple and threw it at him, wishing it were
something more substantial. She wanted something to put a crease in that hard head of his.

“Self-righteous praying
? Me? It wasn’t I who hated the baby,
Monsieur
le
Duc!
It was you! Do you think those words haven’t
been engraved into my memory? They torment me so that even my
prayers fail me! Well?”

She screamed the last words at him and moved to slam the
door, but he was too quick. Giselle suspected the gasp she
heard outside was due more to his presence in her chamber than her
words.

The same mirror that mocked her that morning reflected his face, and she wouldn’t allow it
. Giselle turned her back on him and his image, staring at the wall behind her cot. She saw the rosary and
cross and knew she hadn’t been praying enough.

“I didn’t hate the baby, Giselle.”

She wanted to trust the tears staining his voice, but she didn’t
dare. He asked her to trust him before, and what had it gained her? A lot of heartache and an ocean of tears
. She forced herself to ignore the
vague hope his words started within her. She could be that strong.
She had to be.

“
I only said that to make it easier for you. I don’t blame you
for not believing me, but it’s true.”

His voice sounded strained, as if he fought back tears, but
Giselle wasn’t a fool anymore.

“You lie convincingly,
Monsieur
le
Duc.
It appears to be a trait all the Berchalds share.”

Giselle trembled at his intake of breath behind her, and she
hoped he didn’t notice. If she didn’t turn, if she just controlled her reactions, he’d never know. That was her last hope.

“
I needed to make you dislike me, Giselle. I only lied….”

He stopped, as if unable to continue. Giselle looked at the
ceiling to stay her cry, concentrating on the vacant ceiling and bare
beam overhead. She didn’t want to think about the rawness of his
voice.

“It was stupid of me. I know that now, but I only thought….
Mon Dieu!
I’m not even making sense, and it’s because it feels as if
you’ve already tried me and found me guilty. I only thought that maybe if you hated me enough, Etienne wouldn’t be such a horrid
alternative. Not for you….”

His voice dropped to a whisper. Giselle studiously watched the beam, refusing to listen.

“…or for my child.”

She turned, failing once again in her resolve
. She ignored the
tears that streamed into her mouth. Her humble little room had never looked so small before. The sight of him leaning against the door as if for support made it feel as if her heart fell to the pit of her belly.

He lied to make Etienne more acceptable?

“Navarre?”

He refused to look at her at first
. His gaze remained on the
floor. Then, slowly, eyes the color of a stormy sky reached to her.
Giselle was fortunate her cot was so near, because her knees
crumpled. How well she remembered those eyes.

“
I want to believe you, Navarre, I do. But I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid? Of me,
ma petit
? I can’t bear it if you are. I’ll do
anything. I swear it. I’ve been rampaging through the entire
countryside trying to find you. I think I frightened your maid into an
early grave. I beg you to return with me, Giselle. I can’t live like this
much longer.”

He fell to his knees in front of her, and she couldn’t avoid him
any longer.

“Navarre
—.”

“You must return with me
! You must. I can’t admit failure.
Esmee pines for you. She has postponed her wedding until I find you. Mother refuses to leave her wing of the castle, and that Louisa
will have my head. It’s enough to drive a man mad.”

Giselle longed to smile, but she couldn’t
. Charmaine was going to be there, too. Why didn’t he mention her?

“Navarre.” She swallowed to stop any more tears, and knew
he noticed. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Don’t finish that
! I’ve been stupid, Giselle, and I’ve been a
coward. I showed both when I allowed Jean-Claude access to you. I don’t ask your forgiveness and do you know why? Because I cannot
forgive myself, that’s why. Don’t look at me so sadly. Listen to
what
I’m
saying!

“I’m no poet
. I can’t even write a decent love letter, but we’ve lost enough time. I have many faults, and
I’m
certain you can name
even more. Is there any other reason not to accept my suit? Well?
You don’t answer, and I must ask myself why. Why, Giselle? Must I first approach your father? Say so, and I will, no matter how much I
dislike the man. I swear it.
I’ll even cede Savignen back to him if you wish. Don’t look s
o surprised, I’ll do it, and do you know why? Because I can’t live
without you. The entire estate can’t do so, and I refuse to give such a
long speech ever again in my life. So tell me — will you accept my
suit?”

He didn’t make sense. He must have known that from her
expression. As much as she longed to hope he was offering what it
sounded like, she wasn’t sure.

“What of
Charmaine?” Giselle whispered. “She’ll have
something to say about your request.”

“Charmaine is a harlot of the lowest order
. Her name must never cross your lips again. Do you think it was easy for me in Versailles? I waited endlessly for an audience with the king. I spent
so much gold trying to see him, we’re almost paupers again. Do you
know why? For you, Giselle. I wrote you daily,
non!
Hourly.”

He sighed. “You ask of Charmaine
? She can find her own way. She always does. All I wanted was one thing from His
Majesty. Permission to wed. You can’t imagine my fear when I returned and found you
gone. And no one knew where. You can’t imagine my emotion
when I learned of it.

“
I begged the
Bon Dieu
for one chance to see you again, to let
you know of my stupidity over
l’enfant
. The only clue I had was that miserable maid of yours. She didn’t make it easy. She sent me on endless empty chases. Finally, this morning, when the Mother
Superior told me of your description….”

He was going too fast. Giselle put up her hand to stop him
.
She didn’t dare fill in his words. “You…wrote to me?”

“Of course,
ma petit.
I could think of nothing except how
miserable life would be without you. I wrote endlessly, but you never
answered. I thought
I’d
go insane. I wondered if you ignored me
because of my words, or my actions. I wanted to know, but you were
always silent.”

“I…I never received a letter from you.”

“I know. Just as I was leaving Versailles, Charmaine gave
them to me in a bundle. She had them intercepted. You can’t
imagine my fear when I found you missing. Even Louisa didn’t
know where you were.
Merde!
I’ve been run ragged!”

Beautiful, tear-damp, blue eyes beseeched her, and Giselle felt
the smile tugging at her lips. She’d almost let
Mademoiselle
Frerre’s
intriguing ruin her own life? Charmaine had almost won. It was a
horrifying thought.

“
I had to petition Rome for the annulment, Giselle, and then
the pontiff made me wait until the New Year before he decided.”

“You petitioned Rome?” Giselle was shocked at his audacity.

“For an annulment,
ma petit,”
he said gently. “You don’t think I’d
allow any memory of the disastrous marriage to Etienne stand
between us? Never. I shall remember him as the older brother I
adored. You may recall him as you will, but I’m not chancing it.
When we wed, it will be before God and all mankind,
Mademoiselle
Giselle Patrice d’ Antillion. You didn’t know I knew your full name,
did you? You have your mother to thank for that. She’s happy to
have the
Duc
du Berchald remain her son-in-law. The
comte?
He
will take more persuasion, I think.”

“You can honestly ask for my hand in marriage?”
Giselle was
afraid to let her joy sound too much in her voice.

‘That’s what I have been saying all along
. Did you listen?
Non.
What else must I do to get your attention?”

Giselle giggled and reached for him, pulling his hair from the
blue satin ribbon that held it. “Marry me, Navarre. This moment.”

“You don’t want an official engagement soiree
? Or
congratulations on catching such a prize?”

A self-mocking smile twisted his full lips, and Giselle licked
hers to still their trembling. “Later.”

She pulled on his shoulders, but only managed to slide from
the cot when he didn’t move. His arms enfolded her and
almost started her crying again.

“Later?”

Giselle didn’t know how he managed to drag his lips from hers
long enough to ask it, but it was too long.

“Do you have the papers with you?”
Giselle couldn’t keep her
fingers from him, and she tried to ignore the play of muscles as she searched his pockets.