Brocade Series 02 - Giselle (29 page)

“I…I can’t say that for certain,
Madame”

“Don’t call me that any longer
. I prefer Marguerite. Being
called
Madame
as coldly as you say it almost breaks my heart.”

Giselle barely stopped herself from snorting
. It was clear
Marguerite was yet another expert.

“
I remember how thrilled I was when I first met my husband, Giselle. He was a very handsome man, tall, blond. Very
masculine. You’ve probably realized that from my sons, haven’t
you?”

Giselle tried to still the blush at being quizzed with such a
question, but she was being nonsensical. She could be reacting to
Etienne’s description for all Marguerite knew.

“Unfortunately, he was more interested in his
coquettes
in Paris and was wed very much against his will. Almost the instant our signatures were on the marriage register, he left me for his other life. He only condescended to visit me when his relatives forced him
to. Do you know what that’s like, to love deeply and be tossed aside?”

She stood, as if the thought still caused her inner turmoil
. Giselle watched her pace to the wardrobe doors and back. Giselle had some idea of
how it must have felt.

Non,
that was a lie.

She couldn’t imagine how it would feel if her love for Navarre was unrequited. Tears flooded her eyes at the
idea. She was in luck that Marguerite wasn’t looking.

“The entire time I carried Esmee,
my husband taunted me about my size
and my bloated shape, as if a woman in my condition wasn’t supposed to look like that. He was as stupid as he was handsome,
and he was gloriously handsome, Giselle. Even more so than
his sons.

“
No. That’s not true. My little Navarre bears an uncanny resemblance to him, except for his hair color. I don’t know where
that came from. You’ve probably noticed how dark he is in
comparison, if you notice such things.”

She gave Giselle a piercing look
. Giselle fought turning redder
. She’d have to be blind not to notice Navarre.

“I
can’t describe how disappointed everyone was when I
produced a girl.”

Giselle almost told her she didn’t have to, then
stopped.

“I
suppose I should have been closer to her when she was born,
but how could I? I was disappointed, too. I shouldn’t have been.
With her birth, my husband had to visit even more often. It seemed
to take forever to conceive again, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

She looked over at Giselle, and it was her turn to redden.

“That child was still-birthed. The shame nearly killed me. I
had no one I could trust, and none that cared. My husband stayed
with me then at the castle, though, said loving things to me, and made
me fall even deeper in love with him. And all he wanted was an heir. I should have known it, but I didn’t.”

She sighed and
moved her view to the
window.

“
I thought he’d given up his mistresses. I was happy and foolish. I didn’t know then the games that people play with each other. I had
to learn. I see you don’t believe me, and you should. Do you know
why?”

Giselle shook her head.

“You’re young, you’re beautiful, and you’re wed to the
Berchald heir, just as I was. It’s not an easy position. I know. You
have every reason not to let me see my son. I’ve been a bad mother,
but I never had a chance. I swear it. Don’t you see?”

Giselle shook her head again.

“I lost Etienne the moment he was born. How can I explain it
so you’ll understand? My husband’s brother, the
duc,
so wanted an
heir for Berchand, that he surrounded Etienne with servants and
guards. I was the outsider. I was unwanted by my husband, and
unneeded by my own child. I’d never felt so alone. There are no words
for it.”

A sarcastic reply came to Giselle’s lips, but she didn’t speak.
Marguerite sounded like she was speaking the truth. And even if it was a lie, it made an
interesting story.

“Why are you telling me this, Marguerite?’’

Marguerite smiled shallowly. Perhaps it was the morning light, but Giselle saw all the lines on her face. She could believe the woman
hadn’t been able to sleep.

“
I should have transferred my feelings to Esmee. She was a beautiful child of five. Looking back, I see I failed at being a
mother to her, too, but all that changed when Jean-Claude was placed
into my arms.”

Her face took on such an expression of love that Giselle put her
hand to her mouth to silence the gasp.

“My husband may have missed me, or he may not
. He came back to visit me when Etienne was still small. Healthy. He was such an engaging boy. Even at a distance, I was so proud of him, but not as much as my husband was.”

She laughed bitterly. “That would have been impossible. As
far as
Monsieur
was concerned, Etienne was perfect
. No one paid any attention to me as I carried
Jean-Claude. It was horrid. His birth was the hardest, and his hair
was so black when he was born, I feared my husband would disclaim
him. It made me more protective of him. Looking
back, I realize I must have gone a little mad. I felt such joy at my
Jean-Claude. There was never a more blessed child. In
appearance, height, and those fabulous eyes…he had no equal, but you
already know of that. Anyone who meets him is enthralled.
And he needed me when no one else did.

“My husband went back to his life in Paris, but I wasn’t lonely
anymore. I had Jean-Claude to protect and nurture. It’s strange, isn’t it? No one questioned my ownership of him. My little Esmee was
hidden away in her schoolrooms, Etienne was feted, adored and dressed for show on every state occasion, but Jean-Claude was
mine.”

She came back to sit, facing Giselle, and the earnest expression
on her face seemed real enough.

“
I spoiled him. I see that now, but
he has so much…what would you call it? Guile?”

“Charm.”
Giselle gave her the word she was searching for.

“There, you see?”
She clapped her hands and nodded at Giselle. “You’ve noticed it, too, haven’t you? He can turn my anger
around with so little effort. He’s unique, I tell you.”

“He
has tried to kill his own brother, Marguerite. And he’ll try again.”

“You think I don’t know that
? I’ve been in an agony of worry.
I can’t believe he would do something so evil. I can’t. May God
forgive me.”

She shook, and her head sank to her hands
.
Giselle’s eyes widened.

“How is my child, Giselle?” she whispered, looking up
. The
tears on her eyelashes weren’t forced, they were real.

“Navarre watches over him.”

“Ah. My littlest. Navarre. He was such a quiet child. It was hard to tell what he thought. I was in luck my husband visited me long enough to bring my little Navarre into the world. He’s quite
special, isn’t he?”

“I…”
Giselle couldn’t finish it. She didn’t have a prayer of stopping her blush this time, either
.

“
I don’t suppose you’ve noticed. He’s quiet, and so very
intelligent. Behind that quiet demeanor, he senses everything. I
wasn’t a good mother to him, either. I had to leave him at a young
age. I had to keep Etienne safe, and I just couldn’t turn on Jean-Claude.
I can’t do it even now. Oh God! What am I to do?”

She reached over and gripped Giselle’s hands as she pleaded
with her. There was torment in her purplish eyes, and Giselle made up her mind.

“Come
. I’ll let you see Etienne. But don’t be shocked by what you
see. He’s living in the past when he talks. The doctors aren’t sure
how disabled he’ll be when he wakes.”

“But he lives?”

Giselle didn’t answer. They must have suspected she was hiding
Etienne’s death.
As they entered the room, Navarre bolted from his chair and
glared at them with bloodshot eyes,
“What are you doing?” he snapped.

“Oh, Etienne! My darling!
I’m
so ashamed!”

Marguerite
ignored Navarre and sank onto the ledge beside the bed to cry into the
coverlet.
Giselle turned away. Navarre could guard Etienne from
Marguerite if he wished. Giselle believed her story.

“Oh, his face
!
Mon Dieu,
Navarre! I can’t stand to look.”

“Jean-Claude wasn’t gentle
. The blow to his forehead
left Etienne unconscious before he was moved. I don’t think
Jean-Claude meant to kill Etienne that way, but he almost succeeded,
didn’t he?”

“
I can’t bear to think on it. Oh, what am I to do?”

It took a moment for Navarre to answer her. His voice was
solemn and devoid of emotion when he did.

“Only you can decide
that,
Mother.”

Marguerite looked up with an agonized expression
.
Giselle backed to the door. She didn’t want to hear any more.
Navarre could keep Etienne safe from his mother, if he still thought it
necessary. Giselle was glad she didn’t have the woman’s conscience.

“Navarre, I’ve told you repeatedly not to ride without me,”
Etienne said loudly. “What do you want to do, kill yourself?”

His voice grew stronger as he mumbled, and Giselle shook
Navarre awake to help her. She had tried by herself, to keep Etienne
from thrashing about during the previous night’s musings and got a
bruised knee and lecture from Navarre for her trouble.

“You’re too small, Giselle,” Navarre had said. “Wake me next
time. I insist.”

Navarre had almost shouted it at her, and she deserved it.
Etienne had tossed her onto the floor, making a loud thump that had
brought Navarre from his chair. Giselle didn’t have time to stand up
before Etienne started up again.

“
I know you’re only eight, Navarre. Stop that crying and get
back on. Thunder tosses everyone who rides him, not just you. If
you don’t stop crying, I’ll send you to the nursery where you belong!”

Navarre had flushed up to his neck and earlobes at that.
Giselle had giggled. It was like hearing a replay of his most
embarrassing moments.

“Etienne,” Navarre had said, “you must rest. Here, try this.”
Navarre had lifted his brother’s head. They were both amazed when
he gulped thirstily at the liquid.

“This wine is bitter,” he complained. “Send another bottle and
then leave me. Who are you, anyway? I haven’t seen you about.”

Giselle had leapt to the platform as Etienne tried to focus on
Navarre with his good eye. He had sounded like his old self.

“Navarre, you say? He’s but a whelp. Get off me, blast you.”

Navarre had held on, although it looked like Etienne would be
able to toss him off any moment.

“Why are my legs tied
? I insist you untie me. Don’t look at
me like that, young man! I demand to know what’s going on…what’s
going on…with….”

He’d slumped back onto his pillows, and
frowned
.

“You’re Navarre
? Impossible. Give me more wine, and stop
that infernal noise.”

And then h
e’d burst into dry sobs, but he no longer fought to get up.

“Navarre!”

Giselle shook him harder
this morning as Etienne tossed a pillow to the floor.
In the drapery-filtered light of dawn, Navarre looked more
ashen than ever. Giselle motioned him to the bed.

“He’s moving again
,” she whispered.

“Stop whispering,” Etienne said
. “I’m not deaf, just disabled
.”

Navarre and Giselle looked at each other in surprise
. And then they both turned simultaneously to the bed. Etienne
regarded them with his good eye.

“Navarre, you look terrible
. What have you been doing to
yourself? Drinking? You’re too young
for it. And Giselle, fancy seeing you in my
bedchamber. That may mean something, but my head hurts too much
to ponder it. Have you two been—
Merde!
I’ve got the worst headache of my
life. Why didn’t you stop me from over-drinking, Navarre?”

“Over…drinking?” Navarre choked out.

“Etienne! You’re awake!” Giselle said. “You don’t know how
wonderful that is!”

“You’re touched, Giselle
. I usually do wake up, sooner or later. What mystery is there in that? Why can’t I see, Navarre?”

He tried to look at his hand through his bandage
. Giselle
giggled in relief. He was awake and he was lucid.
The
Bon Dieu
be praised!

“You had an accident, Etienne.” Navarre lifted a goblet and
poured the liquid into it. “Drink this, and I’ll explain.”

“How can I have an accident
? I never go anywhere without
assistance. Do you have a fever?”

“Just
drink this.”

Navarre helped him sit up
. Etienne was as weak as a
baby. He drank the liquid, although he coughed on it twice.

“Now get out
. Both of you,” he commanded. “I long to sleep
off my drunk, and you dawdle at my bedside. Go.”

He lay back and shut his eyes
. His even breathing was the
only sound in the room as Navarre stumbled off the platform.

“He’s awake, and he hasn’t lost his wits,” Giselle whispered. “Can you believe it, Navarre
? I’ll say a prayer of thanksgiving. Wait
until I tell the others.”

Navarre ignored her and walked to the windows. Giselle followed him as he stepped out onto the balcony. The sun scattered
its light about the valley like a painter coloring his canvas, but Giselle
didn’t see it. She watched with concern as Navarre’s shoulders fell
forward. He gripped the rail so hard his knuckles turned white.

Then a tear struck his hand
. Giselle ran to him. She held to
him from behind, clamping her hands about his stomach as he silently sobbed.

“
Oh, Giselle. Forgive me.”

He took a final, ragged, shuddering breath that nearly made her
lose her grip. She tightened it instead.

“Forgive you
? For what? Loving your brother? B
ringing yourself to collapse with nursing him? I’ve never witnessed
such emotion, and it makes my heart swell. I’d as soon leap from this balcony than forgive you. I adore you.”

“
Ignore me for a bit, then. Allow me some time to compose
myself.”

“Compose yourself
? Oh, Navarre, you’re the most masculine
thing I’ve ever imagined existed. I refuse to ignore you.”

He turned in her arms, and Giselle looked up the open collar of
his shirt to the sparkling amethyst of his eyes. And masculine
seemed too weak a word.

“After hearing of my youthful exploits and now dealing with
my tears, you still think so?” he asked. “I’m surprised at you, Giselle.

He clicked his tongue at her, and she loved it.

“You just need
some sleep, Navarre. You’ve been awake too long.” She fluttered
her eyelashes at him.

“You think to flirt with me when it’s all I can do to keep my
hands off you? Woman, you play with fire.” He growled it at her. The rumble came through his chest.
“Come. We need to go back inside. We
can’t be seen like this.”

She held him a moment longer, then reluctantly released her
grip.

~

“Father, could you spare me a moment?”

Giselle watched the new priest’s plump face as she approached
him. He was pleased with the attention, she could tell.

“I’m here to serve,” he replied.

Giselle gathered her nerve. “Is it a greater sin to break a
commandment, or to follow the commandments and let another
perish, because you wouldn’t break one?”

His face fell.

“That’s a theological question. I’m not certain I have the
knowledge or experience to answer it.”

He was right about one thing. He wasn’t very experienced
.
He looked younger even than she was. Perhaps that was what made
Giselle trust him implicitly the moment he’d been sponsored by the
Berchald family.

The other priest had been dismissed after Navarre had rested,
and that had taken two entire days. One of the servants had spoken up. They’d seen
the other priest in the second
wing near the tower. At the time, it was assumed he was trying to
exorcise the ghost. Now, the suspicion was he’d been working on
the tower.

It was enough proof for Navarre
. Giselle was pleased the other
priest had been replaced. She liked the new one. He was easier to talk to, but he still hadn’t heard her confession. It was too soon, and
there was more at stake.

She knew now what she was up against, and Jean-Claude
seemed to go out of his way to make certain she knew.

“I’m curious,
child,” the priest said, making Giselle tense,
“how can anyone assign a value to a life? If breaking a
commandment saves a life, can our Father really
be unmerciful? You’ve asked me something I must consider
carefully. Will you give me time to answer?”

She nodded
slowly. She didn’t have any time.
Etienne had asked her yet again that morning if she would have
a child by Navarre. When Giselle had asked him what Navarre’s reply was, Etienne shrugged and said, “He’ll do as you wish.”

There was purgatory on earth
. It was in Chateau Berchand. There was also paradise. Giselle wondered which she was
going to find, and wished she wasn’t so fanciful.

It was almost a sennight since Etienne awoke, and he couldn’t
believe the extent of his injuries. He had been truly frightened over his face, and Giselle had watched him view it. Still yellow and green, the bruise extended to his mouth. It would be a long time before
his flesh healed enough to enable him to go without a bandage. And
he still couldn’t see out of the damaged eye.

What should I do, and who else can I ask?

Giselle wondered
why she still lied to herself. She already knew what she was going to do.
She just wished she knew why. Was she accepting Navarre to save Etienne…or because she couldn’t bear to say no?

“Bless you,
my child.”

Giselle waited as the priest murmured words over her head
before rising from her knees. She couldn’t fool the
Bon Dieu
and she knew it. She had to be honest with herself, and with Etienne, if
she was going to do as he asked.

She had a sense of purpose as she climbed the steps to her own
chamber. It was still there when she turned the handle to
Etienne’s chambers and walked in. She saw both brothers were
there, and she started speaking before she lost her nerve.

“Etienne, I need to speak with you
. And Navarre? Don’t go. I need you speak with you, too. It’s good you’re both here.”

Giselle flushed to the roots of her hair as they looked at her.

“I’ve been praying, Etienne, about what you asked…me to do.
I know how serious it is, but….” She wrung her hands, stammered, and felt like a fool.

“But what?”

He had the wrong impression of what she wanted to say.
Giselle realized it as his shoulders slumped.

“
I can’t accept Navarre….” She blushed furiously, and her
palms were slick with nervous sweat. She licked dry lips and tried to
force some moisture into her throat, “…to my bed, un—”

“Damn it, Giselle!”

“Let me finish.” She held up a hand to stop Etienne. Navarre
had turned to look at her, too, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. It was harder than she’d envisioned it would be
.

“Go on, then.” Etienne’s good eyebrow was raised
. She
glanced at it before moving away. She couldn’t meet his gaze, either.

“You…and Navarre
. You must know…that I will—I’ll do it. I’ll accept Navarre into my bed, but not simply because…not
just….” She swallowed hard. “It’s not just for you, Etienne.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, and it no longer resembled the
self-assured tone she’d started with. “I’ll do it, because…Navarre and
I…we….”

Giselle was backing slowly toward the connecting door and she
looked at the floor, and then the ceiling. Anything was better than the
men’s eyes.

“
I want to. It’s not just a question of saving you, Etienne, it’s
because I….” Her voice stopped. She couldn’t finish it out loud, after all.

Etienne ch
uckled. “You’ll do it because you think it will be enjoyable? Is that what you’re saying? Well, it usually is, Giselle. Or Navarre will be doing it wrong.
You’re such a child, sometimes.”

She couldn’t stay a moment longer
. She barely made it to her
bedchamber before bursting into tears of humiliation.
Giselle knelt beside the bed, her knees on the platform, and she
lifted the bottom edge of the coverlet to her face. Her belly was reeling, but her mind was numb. She longed to pray, but knew she
wouldn’t. She had made her decision, and it was going to be night
soon.