Claimed By Chaos

by Abigail Graves

  “Don't worry, it will do him some good to suffer a little.” She teased. Gilles smiled as he took a seat and crossed his ankles.

  “He’ll be miserable but it's no more than he deserves. He's stubbornly refused to go about with The Mothers and Mirabelle his entire adult life. He has some serious penance to pay.” He chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. Lucien smiled as he raised his glass.

  “If it weren't for the whole Double Capet business, Alastair making his debut could be the most notable event of the season.” He declared. Mirabelle couldn't help but giggle. And giggle.

  Chapter 11

  Much later, Giselle stared up at the canopy of her bed and tried to clear her mind. Her discipline was failing her. Every time she tried to push her thoughts away, Alastair filled them. She scolded herself. She was meant to be contemplating her next move, finding the man he referred to as “the last traitor”, not reliving every moment they spent alone or anticipating the next.

  Everyone parted ways shortly after Alastair left them in the study. Giselle settled into her room and got aquatinted with her maid, Jane. A clever but mild mannered girl, Jane had been shocked at Giselle's selection of gowns, lingerie and weapons. Otherwise, she was competent and quick as Giselle bathed and dressed for dinner.

  When she stepped into the hallway she heard a door open at the far end. Alastair stepped out and his eyes found her. He paused for a moment before he prowled toward her. Giselle remained still despite the shiver that spilled down her spine. His eyes were hooded and his face taut. Heat and hunger met her before he took her face in his hands. He tilted her and set his lips to hers as he backed her against the wall. She opened for him and his tongue swept in and attacked hers. Giselle felt heat flood her body and her limbs melted as he angled his head and scattered her wits. Alastair pressed against her, as solid as the wall at her back. He tensed for a moment and she waited until he took a breath. She slid her hands up his chest and gripped his shoulders as she pulled him closer. He growled as his hands circled her waist, lifted and pinned her against the wall. His hips settled between her thighs and she could feel him, hard and pressing against her womanhood.

  Giselle pulled her lips from his and gasped as he ground against her. She wrapped a leg around him and he nodded as he set his lips to her throat.

  “Why can't I control myself around you?” Alastair groaned against her skin. She felt his teeth graze her flesh and she bit her lip.

  “I don't know, but I don't want you to control yourself.” She confessed and she fisted her hands in his hair and arched against him. He cursed and his lips drifted down her neck. Giselle looked at her bedroom door and wondered if he would follow her if she went back. Was there time?

  “When I think about everything that happened to you, I want to kill someone. I can't let anything like that happen again.” His voice was hoarse and urgent. She felt Alastair's hands span her waist and slide up her stomach. He cupped her breasts and squeezed, they became heavy and ached. She begged his name as she felt his tongue brush her cleavage. His thumb brushed her nipples through the silk of her gown and she moaned. Giselle felt him buck against her, electricity shot through her, starting between her thighs where they touched and her eyes rolled back into her head.

  “Please, don't stop!” She begged. She felt her skirts lift and his hand on her thigh and she gasped in delight. Suddenly, Giselle was standing on the floor and Alastair had his hands on her shoulders. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply, his jaw twitched and his posture was erect.

  “I think we should go down now.” His voice was hard, strained. Stunned, Giselle nodded. Alastair held out his arm and she blinked rapidly as she placed her hand on it and he steered her toward the stairs.

  Once in the drawing room, Giselle found herself out of sorts. Alastair retreated to the sideboard and was quiet as he pondered his scotch. Mirabelle was full of questions, mostly about French fashion. Giselle did her best to keep up. When the butler came and announced dinner, Lucien took Giselle’s arm and she heard Mirabelle laugh softly as Gilles took hers.

  “I think I'm a miserable failure as a chaperone!” She declared. Alastair said something under his breath that no one was able to comprehend.

  Dinner was an awkward affair for Giselle. Seated across from Alastair, she found it hard to focus on the meal or conversation. His eyes tormented her, focusing on her mouth or breasts, making both warm. When she tried to talk, his focus would be so complete, so penetrating, she felt as if she was drowning in his turbulent silver gaze. Every now and then, Giselle would shudder and wriggle her shoulders only to look up and find him shifting in his seat as he stared at his plate.

  When the party retired to the sitting room, they kept drifting toward each other only to dash apart when Gilles would clear his throat and look pointedly at them. Eventually, the men left to play billiards and Mirabelle peppered her with questions about France and Gilles’ time there. When the men returned and Lucien summoned Mirabelle, Giselle felt anxious and brittle. She nearly moaned as Alastair pressed his lips to her fingers when she excused herself for the evening.

  Which brought her to her current predicament. Giselle sat up and punched her pillow before she flopped back onto it. She'd never met a problem she couldn't set aside until the next day. Not that Alastair was a problem. She wanted to pour all of her energy into exploring him and wanted him focused completely on her. It was disturbing, just how little of her attention was on her mission. Giselle grimaced. She'd never put her desires before her duty. She grimaced again. She'd never truly had desires before.

  The next morning, Giselle was in a surly mood as she stepped off the stairs into the hall. Never in all her time in France (even when she was recovering from being shot) had she slept so poorly. Every time she was close to drifting off, she would remember Alastair's hands on her breasts or she'd imagine what might have happened if they had gone into her room. She was frustrated and tired.

  As she continued down the hall she heard the deep rumbling of Alastair's voice. He was in the library and wasn't alone. Giselle approached quietly and listened.

  “This should do, my lovely! I'll read and you can sit on my lap.” His voice was soft and warm. Giselle stifled a gasp and felt rage surge within her.

  Was it one of the maids? Did they have a longstanding arrangement? He was often at Winthorpe, it wouldn't surprise her if he had any number of maids waiting to do his bidding. Why would he toy with her, then? Giselle sensed that he was insatiable and experienced but she couldn't imagine he would require more than one woman. Ready to confront him, she swung into the library and nearly tripped when she saw who his paramour was.

  Alastair stared up at her, one brow raised as he reclined in an overstuffed chair with a book in one hand. On his lap, supported by his other hand, sat a very petite, red haired angel. She looked to be a little more than two months old. He set the book on the table and cradled the cooing, gurgling baby as he stood.

  “Giselle, allow me to introduce Lady Charlotte.” Alastair said gently as he lowered his face to the bundle in his arms. She made a “Gah!” sound and he laughed softly as he playfully nibbled on her tiny, waving fist. Giselle felt dizzy and lowered herself to the couch. His entire demeanor had changed. Alastair was relaxed and joyful, holding his niece. Everything about him had softened as he adored her.

  Giselle felt something within her ache and an emotion suspiciously similar to jealousy overwhelmed her as realization bloomed. He loved children. He wanted to be a father. The idea that someone might give him a child and that he would love that child and worship the woman that gave it to him made her want to set something on fire, to tear things apart with her hands. She swallowed loudly and smiled as he sat next to her.

  “Mirabelle and Lucien are out riding and I offered to watch Charlotte.” He murmured. “Would you like to hold her?” He asked as he leaned close. Giselle felt her eyes grow wide as panic filled her. She had never held an infant before, she'd barely seen one this close. He looked
at her expectantly and she was afraid to decline. She looked into his eyes and saw that he was waiting, assessing. She nodded weakly.

  “I've never held a baby, Alastair.” She confided. He smiled softly as he lowered the bundle into her arms. She gasped as she adjusted. Charlotte was so tiny and light, she felt so fragile. Giselle looked up in alarm.

  “Just relax. They're very flexible and remarkably forgiving.” Again, his voice was soothing and low. “I find that as long as you remain calm and talk to them gently, babies are very easy to handle and quite enjoyable.”

  Giselle nodded and sank back against the couch. Charlotte looked up at her with large, unblinking eyes.

  “Pffrrtz!” She declared as she devoured her fingers. Giselle looked up at Alastair and laughed. His expression made her stomach flip. His eyes were so intent, they flicked rapidly over the two of them. She sensed his yearning. Something within her wanted to answer. She shook her head inwardly and turned back to Charlotte and was shocked at how perfect she was.

  What if I had one of my own? The thought came from nowhere and Giselle pushed it away quickly.

  “You should take her. I'm afraid I'll upset her.” Giselle lied as she passed Charlotte back to Alastair. He frowned slightly as he took her. He held her comfortably in both hands and lifted her to his face and inhaled before leaning back and settling her against his chest. Giselle rested her arm on the back of the couch and watched him. “You’re very good with her.” She said. He shrugged as he rubbed Charlotte’s back soothingly.

  “Children aren't difficult to understand at this age. They are either tired, hungry or need to be cleaned. At the moment, Lady Charlotte is clean and has recently been fed. All I have to do is entertain her until she falls asleep. She will remain pleasant or asleep until she soils herself or becomes hungry. When either of these occur, I will merely summon someone more capable than myself to see to her needs.” Alastair reclined and looked content to remain as long as Charlotte was. Giselle couldn't help but smile.

  “What do you do with her when she isn't sleeping?” She asked quietly. Alastair's head tilted.

  “Anything I wish, really. As long as you keep your voice low and reassuring, you could read crop reports and she wouldn't complain. But I believe infants are rather like vessels.”

  “Vessels!” Giselle laughed softly. He nodded.

  “They are waiting to be filled with anything you wish to pour into them. So many people fill their offspring with dribble and they end up useless and boring. We were fortunate to have parents that were more selective.” He made a shushing sound as Charlotte squirmed against him. Giselle leaned and picked up the book he had selected. She looked dubious.

  “Goethe? Isn't Faust a bit dark for an infant?” She whispered as she at back. Alastair shook his head gently.

  “I am confident that she doesn't understand German yet and as long as I read it as if it were about princesses and fairies, she doesn't object.”

  “You're quite knowledgeable.” Giselle teased.

  “I have spent a great deal of time with Ethan and he is quite similar in his needs and temperament. I find both to be much easier to comprehend than most of the adults I encounter.” With that, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. It was inexplicably the most arousing scene Giselle had ever witnessed. She opened the book and pretended to read it for the better part of an hour while her entire being was focused on Alastair and the baby in his arms.

  Chapter 12

  As the lunch plates were being cleared, Alastair requested that everyone meet in the study to discuss the plan for Giselle's return to London and hunting the last traitor. Mirabelle and Lucien managed to get lost between the dining room and the study, which left Gilles alone with Alastair and Giselle. He tried to ignore the glances that passed between them but occasionally, he got the feeling that the two of them forgot that he was in the room. They would stare a little too long at each other's lips and start to get too close and he'd have to say something or grab Alastair by the arm.

  It was very obvious that there was a strong mutual attraction and that it was only a matter of time before the two became intimate. Gilles had no doubts as to Alastair's intentions, he knew he would marry Giselle first if she would agree to it. Knowing Giselle as he did, he still found it unlikely but he wished his brother luck. Even if there would be no marriage and matters between them were more of an arrangement, Gilles still wished him luck. Both were exceptional people that had lived their entire lives outside of society, a conventional relationship might not suit either of them.

  What worried Gilles was what was at stake if things did not work out well between the two of them. He'd just been reunited with Giselle and he had already been worried about Alastair. He'd been frustrated and restless before Gilles had gone to Longwood and found Elise. She had been a welcomed distraction for Alastair but she was too independent to rely on him for long. After Mirabelle and Lucien married, Alastair became more distant. Gilles knew it was because he felt like an outsider among the couples. The only companions he had ever known kept slipping away as pairs only to return even more wrapped up each other. Gilles knew he and Elise were especially guilty.

  It had surprised everyone to see how Alastair connected with the babies. He was gentle and patient and practically beamed when he held them. When he was with one of the babies he wasn't hollow and bored, he didn't seem to notice that the other adults in the room were flirting or making plans to sneak away, that he was the only one that didn't have someone to share his life with. But once the babies were in their cribs, he began staring at the door, waiting to leave.

  Gilles was afraid that Giselle could hurt Alastair and cause him to leave, that he'd be unable to stay with the family, especially if she stayed as Gilles had asked. Gilles felt as if he was caught in the middle. He wanted to protect his brother from someone he loved as much as him, Mirabelle and Lucien and he wanted Giselle to stay with the family, she needed them. Part of Gilles hoped that the two of them would marry, it would be a perfect situation. Alastair would have someone and Giselle would be safe and part of the family. Gilles knew there were serious obstacles and he couldn't imagine how it could work between the two of them. He tried to remind himself that he and Elise had faced obstacles. Perhaps Alastair would find a way to overcome Giselle's objections and could adapt to her personality. Maybe they were both different with each other. Gilles wished that he didn't find it hard believing any of those things.

  Eventually, Mirabelle and Lucien appeared. Both were disheveled and flushed.

  “Sorry! We had something we needed to discuss.” Mirabelle lied as she dropped on the couch next to Giselle who made a solid effort at not rolling her eyes or smiling.

  “Now that you're here…” Alastair looked at the two of them pointedly. “We can get started.” He settled into a chair and waited for Lucien to pour himself a drink and sit. “I think we all agree that Mirabelle's idea that I should court Giselle is a good start.” He looked around and everyone nodded, except Giselle.

  “I don't like it but I accept that it’s the best way forward.” She announced. Alastair narrowed his eyes at her for a moment.

  “Your objection is noted. As we don't have any better ideas, we’ll move along.” He gave her a moment and continued after she nodded in agreement. “I suggest that we remain at Winthorpe for at least two weeks, hopefully the ton will settle and it won't be as overwhelming when we return.” Mirabelle snorted.

  “I doubt that but it can't hurt. I'd put off going back if it were me. We’ve discussed the matter and Lucien and I will return shortly after the two of you. I'm going to send word on ahead to Madeline that we'd like to host a ball, sort of an unofficial engagement celebration. It will signal that both families are looking forward to welcoming Giselle, thus granting you more freedom to be in each other's company and it will put off more suitors. She can start preparations right away.” Giselle had grown steadily more upset as Mirabelle talked. By the time she was finished she was nearly seething
.

  “Are you two mad?” She gasped. “You would open the whole family to ridicule once the engagement was ended. And if my work with the War Office became known, you would all be tainted.” She shook her head vigorously. “Not to mention, it's a lot of trouble to go to on my behalf, to impress hundreds of people that won't be pleased regardless of what we do. No. I've already agreed to go about with Alastair despite my misgivings but I won't go out of my way to earn their favor or approval.” Giselle crossed her arms and looked around.

  Gilles almost groaned. She thought she’d had the last word. Alastair stared at her and Lucien actually groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Mirabelle cocked her head and smiled gently. Gilles would have been curious to see how the whole thing would play out if he wasn't in the middle of it. For a moment, Gilles started to think that he might not have to worry over Giselle and Alastair, that it would be Giselle and Mirabelle that would cause the divide.

  “I realize that you don't have a brother, Giselle.” Mirabelle said softly. “But if you think that there is any way that I would not have a ball to celebrate the fact that Alastair had finally found someone worthy of him, you're quite out of your mind.” She dared Giselle to argue. And she did.

  “I could understand if there was something to truly celebrate but we’re talking about a fake engagement!” She countered.

  “Whether you two marry or not, I think there is much to celebrate.” Mirabelle looked at Giselle pointedly. “Don't take this the wrong way but this is about much more than you. The ton hasn't been especially kind to Alastair. Granted, he's brought much of it upon himself.” She stared at him sternly. “But it would be so satisfying to be able to rub the whole thing in their faces, to show them how stupid they've all been about him. And you're forgetting The Mothers. No woman has ever been good enough for their boys, especially Alastair.” Gilles felt his face form a scowl and Lucien sat up to object but she narrowed her eyes at them. “I'm sorry, but the two of you were scoundrels, they had to love you. Alastair has been their darling angel his whole life.” Gilles rolled his eyes. If only they knew… Mirabelle looked back at Giselle. “You will be living proof that none of the women of the ton were good enough. Even if you call off the engagement, he was still engaged to a Capet.” She let Giselle absorb everything.