Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (11 page)

Louisa smiled at her again.

“You will see him, won’t you?
You’ll not hide away in your new rooms while the world rushes by
you? You’ll wear your new gowns and show all of them the beautiful
Duchesse
du Berchald in all her God-given glory?”

“Enough already, Louisa
. You win. Show this hairdresser in.”

Giselle waved her hand as Isabelle and Louisa exchanged glances.

Monsieur
Poinre was as short as Giselle, and that was
incredible. He brought a stool to stand on in order to do his work. She
watched with as much interest as Louisa and Isabelle were as he applied some sort of greasy salve to Giselle’s hair to make it shine. When she asked what
it was, he laughed.

“
I cannot tell the
petit duchesse
my secret,” he said. “Where
would that leave me? The court at Versailles swears by my formula.
It has made me a rich man, and my services are in demand. I’ve
considered hiring a helper, but then
I’d
have to reveal my secret, and
it might be stolen from me. You’re lucky I was available, you
know.”

Mon Dieu,
Giselle thought. The man chattered throughout the arrangement, giving her a headache.
When he had her hair slickened and thick-feeling, he fitted a strange caged contraption to the top of her head. Giselle was
grateful it was fairly weightless as he settled it into place. Her eyes
were starting to pound with the same painful rhythm as her head. She almost cried out as he teased her hair about
the cage, pulling and twisting it into masses of curls.

He
told her he’d given up two days of patrons in order to travel so far south.
It was fortunate he was available when
Monsieur
Navarre spoke to him. But he had no idea the
duchesse
was so fair. He might waive his travel fee. It would make his reputation grow to have it
known that he had dressed the
Duchesse
du Berchald’s hair. It was a pleasure, and one he rarely received. Most of his patrons were either
thin-haired, or ugly, or old, or all three.

He couldn’t wait to see her
finished.

The moment he mentioned Navarre’s name, Giselle
’s heart had panged within her, and she cried aloud before she could prevent it. S
he’d suspected it was Navarre arranging for her to look beautiful…and that hurt.
Monsieur
Poinre assumed her reaction was due to the arrangement of waves
he was creating to cascade down the front of her coiffure, and
Giselle let him.

Navarre hired him,
because he wanted her beautiful…for
Etienne.

Giselle was grateful she hadn’t been forced into her corset yet, because she needed to take deep breaths to still her emotion
. It would
never do to attend her first public outing with the traces of tears about
her face. She wondered if she were strong enough to stifle it, and knew she had to. It was her fate. It was sealed. They wanted her to have a child by Etienne.

Navarre, too
.

The thought
hammered through her temples until nothing else mattered.
Navarre had asked her to be intimate with her husband. How
could he ask such a thing? How could any family ask such a thing?
What strange intrigues the Berchald family attempted, begging the new
duchesse
to have her own husband’s child! Had she mentioned it to
her priest in Antilli, he would have crossed himself.

Giselle suspected
Monsieur
Poinre’s formula contained grease,
but it smelled faintly of roses. He worked with her hair until the cage was completely hidden. Giselle caught Louisa’s look of delight,
and Isabelle’s lifted eyebrows, and tried not to scowl. They could
look as pleased as they liked. It wasn’t either one of them who were
being dressed to titillate Etienne.

“If the petite
duchesse
will close her eyes for a moment?”

The
hairdresser’s request interrupted Giselle’s train of thought.

“I’ll be
finished. Everyone in the castle will be in rapture over your beauty.
Everyone in Versailles would be sick with envy.”

Giselle wondered if he spoke to all his clients like that as he
tipped her forward, so her face was atop her knees. And then rose-scented powder filled the air, making it difficult to breathe. She was coughing and choking, while tears
rolled down her cheeks. She’d wanted her hair powdered, like her mama, the
Comtesse
d’Antillion, but after experiencing it, she changed her mind.

“
There!” Louisa clapped her hands. “It’s finished, and you look delightful.
I’m
astounded, Giselle. Really, I am. What do you think, Isabelle?”

“It’s different,” the maid answered, noncommittally.

Giselle looked up and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Isabella had been accurate. Her image had certainly changed.

“You would be such a hit at the palace,”
Monsieur
Poinre said
with a theatrical whisper. “His Majesty’s eye for beauty is
well-known, and you are
tres belle.
I do not lie. You don’t even
need the rice powder so many ladies use to whiten their complexions.
Your skin is already so pure and unspoiled. You are lucky for that.
I’ve heard some of the nobles have taken to using arsenic to whiten
and beautify their skins, although it’s very dangerous.
I’m
certain you’ll never resort to such. You are so very lucky,
Madame.”

Giselle’s headache worsened the longer he spoke. She didn’t
care what the nobility did, or how they kept their looks. She only cared about one man, and he wasn’t her husband.

She watched as Louisa tipped him. From the way he turned
back and thanked the
petit duchesse,
it must have been a gracious tip. Giselle wondered why Louisa had pocket gold, while her own employer had no idea how to go about getting any.

“We should probably have asked him for a patch,” Louisa
murmured as she shut the door.

“A patch?”
Isabelle asked.

Giselle turned her head to admire
Monsieur
Poinre’s work.
Her neck never looked longer or more sleek, and the lack of color made her shading stand out. Giselle’s eyebrows still had high arches,
but they were so dark against the rest of her complexion, they brought
out her eyes. She hadn’t noticed before how dark brown they were,
and her lips looked as if she’d applied rouge.

“Patches come in several shapes and are applied to the face,”
Louisa explained. “I’ve heard of stars and moons for example. Not
only are they interesting to look at, but they make one’s face look
even paler.”

“
I’ve never heard of anything so strange, but you heard
Monsieur
Poinre,” Giselle remarked. “My skin is white enough.
Isn’t arsenic a poison? How can people be so stupid?”

“While it is true of you, I’ve heard that all follow His Majesty’s
pursuit of a clear, unblemished complexion. Most of the nobility
weren’t blessed with porcelain skin as you were, Giselle.”

“Blessed
? I’ve been hidden away. Is it any wonder I’m white?
I rarely see the outdoors.”

“Complaints still
? Giselle.”

Louisa clucked her tongue and Giselle glared at her through the
glass. It didn’t do much. The maid just continued in a chastising tone.

“Look at you
. You have a full evening of entertainment ahead, a
beautiful dress, and a new hairstyle. Besides, you can go outside
anytime you like, anymore. Isabelle and I have talked of it. Why don’t you pursue riding? The Antillions have long been renowned
for their ability, and I’m certain that new brother of yours, that
Navarre? He would teach you. Isabelle and I spoke on it.”

“Which dress am I wearing?” Giselle spoke quickly to
interrupt her.

“A new one,
Madame.
It just arrived from Paris.”

Both women exchanged glances again in the mirror, and then
Isabelle lowered her head.

“What’s wrong with the dress?” Giselle asked. “Isabelle, answer me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Giselle,” Louisa said quickly.
“It’s the latest creation. There was a month of stitching done on the
bodice alone.”

Giselle swiveled in her chair, balancing the weight on her head
carefully as she looked at them. They were endlessly trying to hide unpleasantness from her, while nagging her at the same time to
mature. She was determined to put a stop to it. “A month? That
must be an exaggeration. It was ordered just last week, wasn’t it?”

“A
ll your gowns were made for another, Giselle.
Madame
Broussard charged extra for each of them because of that.”

“Then you lied when you say
I have such a small
waist? What else
have you hidden from me?”

“The dresses all had to be taken in, Giselle, I swear it!”

Isabelle spoke quickly and then crossed herself. After all the years Giselle had relied on her, she felt insulted.

Her eyes narrowed.
“I’m waiting.”

“Isabelle,” Louisa said, “
go and fetch the dress. I’ll speak with her.”

Giselle
swiveled on her chair and gave Louisa her sternest look. Louisa smiled. Giselle needed practice if she ever planned on scolding a servant.
Giselle sighed.

“
So tell me. What’s so mysterious about my new clothing, Louisa?”

“Your papa
…sent the bill with the shipment.”

Giselle sucked in her breath in shock and dismay
. “Oh no! He didn’t! He couldn’t! That’s
unheard of! How could he have done something so degrading? So
bourgeoisie
?”

Giselle was aware that tears of shame
colored her words,
and that Louisa heard them, but it was an incredible insult to make
her new family pay for her trousseau. Giselle couldn’t believe the
comte
was that undignified.

“It
’s true,” Louisa said.
“Monsieur
Navarre received the bill
this morning. The servants have been whispering about it all day —
when they aren’t gossiping over the
duc’s
plans of attending this fete,
that is.”

“Oh
…how can I show myself to them?” Giselle covered her face with her hands. Papa sent her to her new husband and refused to
pay for her clothing!

“Giselle, you will attend this dinner with your head
high. Well…as high as
possible, considering your height.”

“I
am not amused,” Giselle replied from behind her fingers.

“The clothing has been paid for many times over, Giselle,”
Louisa continued. “The entire Berchald family owes its escape from
debtor’s prison to you. They could have gone to the Bastille. If it
hadn’t been for your dowry—”

“I’ve already heard the tale, and I don’t care
. I hate my father! I hate him!
I never want to see him again.”

“Does that mean
…you won’t annul your marriage after all?”

How did she know?
Giselle wondered.

“Of course not.”
She tried to sound vehement, but failed. She disliked her
husband intensely, but she hated her own father more.

“
Well. That’s settled, then. And you can’t sit there all day admiring your reflection,” Louisa
said. “Time is wasting. I look forward to seeing you in this latest
creation. You’ll stun everyone.”

“Especially since they’re paying for it,” she grumbled.

“No, Giselle.
You ‘re
paying for it. I daresay you haven’t
finished paying yet, either.”

She was much too astute. When Giselle pulled her hands away
from her face, the woman wouldn’t meet her eyes.