Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (24 page)

She’d been fooled at the arbor, she realized
. When Navarre
spoke his words of love, she actually believed him. They must think
her stupid as well as childish. He hadn’t been in love. He’d been
placing the groundwork for this plot. Giselle didn’t think she
could bear it, yet she had to. Navarre had simply been preparing her
for the moment when he would take her innocence and make it vile. Evil. Monstrous.

They couldn’t inflict a
graver wound if they used a
weapon. She wondered if they knew it. She recognized it was agony gripping
her heart, making her aware of every painful beat.

“Giselle?”
Navarre whispered.

“Don’t say a word, Navarre
. Not one. I’ve already heard enough. And
I’ll
never be a party to such evil! Never!”

She tried to sound
vilified, but her voice gave out. Giselle said the last in a whisper.

“
Oh come, Giselle. Stop.” Etienne said. “You won’t bed with
me, and I can’t force you without the use of my legs. And what might happen then? You already threatened me with
a convent. Or loss of the valley. What choice do I have?”

He laughed as she turned to him
.
Giselle narrowed her eyes.

“
You are a pig,
Monsieur
le
Duc.
I realize that now.
I should feel grateful you didn’t plan to send Jean-Claude to my bed, although it could hardly be worse!”

Her voice cracked
. Navarre sounded like he was choking. She didn’t look. She didn’t care. She already knew
Etienne was a devil incarnate, but why did Navarre have to be one,
too?

And Navarre might not even love her
. She’d been blind, innocent…
and too inexperienced to know better. She could just see Etienne setting this up, telling Navarre to get her to trust him, wear down her
resistance…work on her weaknesses. Because one Berchald in her bed was as good as another.

She only wished it hadn’t succeeded as well as it had
. That
tormented her even more.

“My father kept me imprisoned for a reason, and I know now what it is
. He knew how evil you all are.
I wish I had remained at Antilli, and ignorant of it!”

“Isn’t she wonderful when she’s angry, Navarre?”

Etienne
smiled at her, and Giselle screeched in disbelief, using the last of her voice to berate him.

“Do you think
I care if you find me wonderful,
Monsieur
le
Duc?
Well, I don’t. I don’t care what any member of
this family thinks of me!
I’d
rather lie with pigs than bed with any of
you!”

The last of her words tore her throat.

“Giselle, wait!”

Navarre started toward her
. Giselle ran
into her room and slammed the door in his face.
She was trembling so viciously, she had difficulty turning the key,
sealing them out, but she did.

Anger kept her pacing until she was too exhausted to see
anymore. She kept telling herself it was anger, and not the
pounding on the door that wouldn’t quit for what seemed like hours.
She certainly wasn’t stupid enough to open it. Not anymore.

“Is your head any better, Giselle?”

It was
Louisa, walking in with a
supper tray. Giselle motioned her to set it down, without lifting her
head.

“Oh Giselle
. You poor dear.
They talk of nothing else below stairs.”

How could they have anything to talk about
?
None of them were there, were they?
The thought made her head
throb even worse.

“Chef
Aaron has made an onion broth just for you, but you’re supposed to swallow this horrid-smelling concoction first.”

She lifted
a goblet and sniffed. Giselle glanced at Louisa’s pained expression
before she set it back down.

“If I can’t drink the soup until I take that
…then tell Chef Aaron
merci,
but I am not hungry.”

“What they don’t know won’t harm them, will it?”

Louisa
poured the contents out the window. Even the small amount of light that came from moving the drapes hurt her head.

“Now drink your broth. Then you’ll be able to tell me
what this
is all about.”

Giselle had begun to sit gingerly and reach for the soup bowl.
The moment Louisa attached a payment, her arm sank back down.

“Then, I repeat myself. I am not hungry.
Merci.
”

Louisa put her hands on her hips and sighed hugely. “Giselle,
what am I going to do with you? I thought seeing your love would
make your heart lighter, not turn you into an invalid again.”

“He’s not my love.”

Giselle kept her voice flat as she said it. Then she reached for
the bowl of soup with hands that shook. Chef Aaron was a master. The soup was as
delicious as it smelled, delicately flavored with beef and mushrooms.
Giselle drank all she could and waited for Louisa’s reaction.

“Very well, Giselle
.
I’m
listening.”

“Is the same priest still here?”

Giselle leaned back onto the pillows. Everything had started to worsen once she lied
to him. She needed to make amends. That was a good starting
point, and she was getting heartily sick of being in bed
.

“Yes, but
I don’t mind telling you, he doesn’t inspire me.
Gerty told me he’s new. That could be it, but did you know that he
receives correspondence from
Monsieur
Jean-Claude, of all people?”

She’d known not to trust him
.
This was bad. It meant she’d have to continue her silence and pray The Lord would be in a very forgiving mood when she reached confession.

“We’re not
going to talk of prayer, are we, Giselle? I swear that
is all you do — and cry, of course.”

“
I only wish I could cry. I’ve been trying all day. Perhaps
that’s why my head aches so.”

Louisa
stared. “It is that horrible?”

“What?”

“This reason you don’t love
Monsieur
Navarre anymore?”

“Dieu
!
If only that were the truth!”

“You do still love him, then?”

“Why don’t you leave me be, Louisa? Make yourself a comforting companion, and just go?”

“Because that isn’t what you need,
love. Trust me. Are you
finished with your soup?”

Giselle nodded
. She watched as Louisa took the tray to the door. She suspected the woman was checking for any listeners
. It was certainly a strange household into which
she had married. It wasn’t long before Louisa returned.

“
I never could hide things from you, could I?”

“Why would you want to start now, Giselle
? I can’t help you if
I don’t know what is going on.”

“
I don’t even know most of the time. How am I supposed to
share it?”

“Between us, we’ll know
. Come, love. Tell me
what has happened.”

Giselle lay on her back and looked
up at the embroidered crest on
the half canopy that shadowed the bed. “This is a very scheming
family I’ve married into. I didn’t realize the extent of it.”

“The nobility have little else to do with their time. I’ve heard
tales from the palace that would shock more of your hair white.”

Giselle sighed, and turned her head. “
I doubt it.”

She watched as Louisa resumed her seat in the chair beside the
bed platform. Then, she picked up her sewing as if they weren’t
discussing anything important.

“Are you ignoring me, Louisa?” she asked.

“It’s the only way I can get you to confide in me. I act like I
don’t care, and you finally tell me what’s bothering you. I haven’t raised you from a child and learned nothing, you know.”

Giselle laughed
. It felt wonderful to realize she still had the
capability.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

Giselle watched her place another stitch in the stocking she
was embroidering. Giselle knew the stockings were for her, but she wondered why they bothered. Very few would
ever see such beauty.

“Navarre
. He….” Her throat choked off with the tears she’d
been holding back all day. “He…said he loved me. And I believed him. I
was stupid, naive and blind. I didn’t know it was just an act. I
should have. I realize that now.”

“How do you know he doesn’t?” Louisa placed more stitches as if concentrating on her work, and not what they spoke on.

“Ha!” Giselle wiped her eyes with the towel, wondering where all the tears came from now. “Because I am not as stupid, naïve, and blind as I was before,
that’s how. They educated me. And well.”

“Navarre spoke on this with his own lips?”

“Oui.”

Louisa raised her brows
. “He actually said he doesn’t love you? I am more than
surprised, Giselle. I am in shock.”

“Well…he didn’t actually say that. It was more
—what he didn’t
say.”

“Navarre didn’t say something
? And this meant he doesn’t love
you? What happens when the man talks, pray tell?”

“No…yes. You’re
confusing me.”

“
I’m
confusing you? Really, Giselle.” She lifted her sewing
and looked it over at the same time as she clicked her tongue.

“He doesn’t love me
. He can’t. If he did, he wouldn’t have
agreed with Etienne.”

“
I can agree with the
duc.
Does that mean I don’t care for
you?”

“You don’t know what it is Etienne asks!”

“Your husband asked Navarre to do something, then?”

Giselle nodded.

“And for some reason, you believe if Navarre agrees with this, he
doesn’t love you anymore. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Anymore
?
Non.
It means he never did. Oh, how can I bear it?”

The towel wasn’t soothing anymore, it was too saturated with
tears. Giselle held it to her eyes and shuddered through the sobs.

“You expect me to believe
Monsieur
Navarre cares nothing for
you? Honestly, Giselle. Even Isabelle spoke of the way he looks at
you. If there was ever a case of unrequited love, that Navarre has caught it. The man is
smitten. That is what Isabelle said.”

“Isabelle
? She wouldn’t say anything like that. I don’t even think she knows what it is.”

“True enough
. She inferred it, though.”

Giselle shoved the towel into her eyes
. “I don’t know why I
confide in you. I don’t. Truly. This is not comforting.”

“Isabelle did say as much
. You forget we were here when your
jewelry was brought, Giselle. Do you think your servants are blind?”

“No.”
Her voice sounded uncertain, even to her.

“Do you think emotions such as love are so foreign
that we can’t
spot them right before our noses? Here I thought I’d raised you
differently, and yet you turn out just like one of the heartless
aristocrats. What have I done to deserve such a fate?”

“
I am not. I can guarantee I have a heart. Here I am crying it
out. Look for yourself.” She moved the towel aside to show her.

“You’d best give that to me
. I’ll rinse it for you. I spoke the truth earlier
. Isabelle said it was a good thing that
Monsieur
Navarre
was moving to the dower house with the looks he gives you.
That’s what she said.”

“Isabelle
said that?”

“That man is as besotted as any I’ve ever seen, and you say
it
’s acting? Well! He should be on a stage. That’s where he should
be.”

“But he agreed with Etienne
. At least…I think he did.”

“Let me see if
I understand this, Giselle.
Monsieur
Navarre
may have agreed to something that the
duc
asked of him, something
that would mean he doesn’t love you and never did. Furthermore,
you aren’t even certain that it was something he agreed with. Am I
hearing this correctly?”

Giselle’s brows drew together. “
I am not that confused,
Louisa. I know what I heard.”

“
I am just trying to get it correct.”

“He may not have agreed, but he didn’t disagree, either.”

“So, now silence means agreement? You may find that
difficult to enforce, Giselle. Look at Isabelle, for instance. She’s
often silent, but I don’t think she agrees with me when she is. In fact,
I rather think she’s the opposite. Do you see what I mean?”

“You don’t know what it is they spoke of.”

“True enough. Are you ready to enlighten me, yet?”

Louisa put the stocking down and reached for the cloth
. Giselle was surprised to find she wasn’t interested in crying anymore.
She watched as Louisa dipped the cloth into the basin and wrung it
out again.

“Etienne
—”

Her voice stopped
. The rest of the words clogged her throat, choking her.
She couldn’t even say it?
If she couldn’t tell Louisa, how could she ever tell a priest?

“Was the
duc…
shall we say…in his cups at the time of this
conversation?”

“Was he drunk
? Is that what you ask? I’ve rarely seen him
otherwise.”

“That complicates matters for me.”

“For you?”

Louisa placed the cooled cloth back on her forehead
. Giselle
pulled it right back off.

“Your husband could have asked anything while he was in that
state, Giselle. Can you assist me in narrowing down my guesses?”

“Etienne wants a son.” Giselle whispered the words and felt
herself going hot, and then cold.

“
Ah. And since he can’t give you one, he asked
Monsieur
Navarre….”

“Don’t say it
! I can’t even think it. It’s too wicked.”

To Giselle’s surprise, Louisa burst out laughing
. She couldn’t even speak the words, and Louisa found it laughable?

“Perhaps you could save your amusement for another time,
when you’re not supposed to be comforting me?”

“
Oh, Giselle. Forgive me! It’s just…I would have given anything
to have seen
Monsieur
Navarre’s face.”

“Why?”

“Think of it. He’s been fighting his…shall we say…his
attraction? Yes, that’s a good word. He is at war with himself,
and all he does is work through it. I hear that’s all he does. He won’t even stop for meals, and the chef is worried. Chef Aaron is
beginning to wonder if he’ll ever be able to tempt
Monsieur
Navarre
or the new
duchesse
with his culinary skill. The odd thing is, they suffer from the same affliction, and only I know the truth. Oh, how Gerty would pay to hear this.”