by Jackie Ivie
“Giselle!”
She barely heard Esmee’s words, but the noise of her pounding against the panel reverberated through the passageway.
“Giselle! Oh, Lord! What am I to do? Don’t move. Giselle!”
Esmee’s voice faded as she moved away. Giselle blinked the self-pitying tears back. Esmee was leaving her after sealing her into the wall. She didn’t question it. She should’ve suspected it, instead of following blindly.
Warmth surrounded Giselle then, calming her panic, and she turned to face the outer castle wall. Esmee had been right, and now Giselle could see there were tiny slits assembled into the stone that let in a hint of light. She waited for her eyes to become accustomed to it.
There was no reason to panic. If Navarre found a way out as a child, she could do it as an adult.
“All right, Bertina.” Giselle whispered it, feeling silly. “Show me the latch.”
There was a narrow flight of steps climbing to her left. Another set sank into the blackness on her right. Giselle looked from one to the other. The heat was definitely at her back though, so she turned around.
There was a vague outline of the panel, and it had a peep hole. Giselle rolled her eyes as she saw the height of it. She should have known if the Berchalds had a secret passageway, it would be built for giants, too. Giselle had to stand on tiptoe and lean one side of her face against the wood in order to see out of it. She was surprised to see Esmee’ s frantic movements at the mantel, and Esmee was crying.
“Esmee?” Giselle pounded on the panel.
“Giselle? Oh, God! I’m so sorry. I can’t get the button to budge now. Are you all right?”
She instinctively knew she’d misjudged her sister-in-law. When Esmee had championed Giselle against Jean-Claude, she should have been listening with her heart, and not her imagination.
The heat intensified at Giselle’s cheek, and she pulled back as it got hot.
“Stand back, Giselle. Can you hear me? I’ll be right back.”
Giselle ignored the instruction. She concentrated on following the heat source along the inside of the door. Her fingers scraped against wood, and then a tiny bump moved.
Giselle barely ducked in time as the panel opened. Esmee was on the other side, swinging a chair toward the wall. It struck the stone wall at Giselle’s back, and bounced into the back of her legs, and that’s what buckled them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Mon Dieu! Are you hurt? Oh, Giselle, I told you not to move.”
Giselle stayed on her knees, laughing so hard she couldn’t answer at first. Esmee had lifted one of the heavy chairs and swung it. That was surprising, and then it got more so as Esmee grabbed her into an embrace and hugged her.
“You’re all right? Truly? Etienne would never have forgiven me if anything happened to you. I’m so sorry.”
Giselle patted her back awkwardly.
“It’s all right, Esmee, see? I’m fine, and, not counting the chair, there’s been no harm done.” Giselle pulled away and motioned toward the chair. Esmee made an attempt to smile. “I can’t believe you lifted that,” Giselle said, “but I hope you can do it again. Come. We’d better put it back before someone comes.”
They tugged to get the chair out. Giselle was amazed that any woman could have lifted such a heavy item. It took so much work getting it back into place, that once it was done, she sank into it gratefully. And then looked over at where Esmee sank onto Navarre’s bed.
“I am so sorry, Giselle. I hope you forgive me. I was only going to spy on Etienne. I thought it would be amusing. I’ve heard about this morning, and it made me very happy. Since you came, things have gotten much better. I never meant for you to be trapped in there. I swear it.”
“Perhaps it was my movement that closed the door. You’re not to blame.”
“You’re sweet to think that, but I should have made certain it was safe before putting you into such danger.”
“It wasn’t that bad, Esmee. Truly. And I was lucky.”
“Yes. You are. You and Etienne are so lucky. Sometimes, I wonder why I still exist. For that’s all I do, you know.”
Giselle watched Esmee go to the windows and open Navarre’s drapes, revealing an edge of the maze. So…that was how Navarre got from the dower house, too — the maze ended almost on his doorstep.
“Why do you say that, Esmee?” she asked. “I can’t manage without you. Aunt Mimi dotes on you, and Navarre would…uh…I’m sure he would be lonely without you.”
‘That’s just it, Giselle. It’s lonely for him. And me. Oh…I know what you’re thinking. It’s impossible to be lonely in such a beautiful chateau. But I think that’s your love for Etienne coming through. And the fact that it’s returned. I know. I’m in love myself.”
“Pardon?” Giselle couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I know you don’t trust me, especially after the ball. I wouldn’t trust me, either. But how could I tell you that Mademoiselle Frerre was Jean-Claude’s mistress? I didn’t want to ruin your happiness. And you were so happy. I saw it. I think everyone else did, too. That was when you first fell in love with him, wasn’t it?”
She looked at Giselle for confirmation. Giselle didn’t move. It felt like blasphemy to lie. Esmee smiled.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to answer. I know. I saw it. Everyone did. It was easy to see how much you cared for each other.”
It was? She must be better at intrigue than she thought.
“I even saw to it that you matched. It was the least I could do, with you wearing Mademoiselle Frerre’s gown. It was a perfect gesture, too. I congratulated myself. You looked so happy. You still do…and I’m jealous of it.”
She strode to where Giselle sat and swooped into a pile of skirts at her feet. And then she reached for Giselle’s hands, surprising her.
“I beg you, Giselle, before it’s too late for me. Please? I need your help. I’ve heard he searches the village for a wife, and I can’t see another in that position. I love him too much. I never thought I’d feel this way.”
“Who, Esmee? Who searches?”
“Monsieur Ambross. Didn’t you see the way he looks at me? I almost swoon.”
“Ambross? The mayor?”
When Esmee had been flirtatious with the mayor, it was because she loved him?
“I know what you’re thinking.” Esmee released Giselle’s hands and looked away. “He’s not particularly assuming and isn’t as handsome as Etienne, but there aren’t many like my brother, are there? And I’m almost too scandalous for him to consider. I was disowned, I’m not young anymore, and I might not be able to have children. The list against me plays in my head until I want to scream.”
“Esmee.” Giselle touched her shoulder, and Esmee turned tormented eyes to her. “You’re every bit a marital prize. I can’t see why he wouldn’t be delighted at the prospect of wedding you. He’s not blind, and you are a beautiful woman. Besides, you’re a Berchald. A nobler bloodline would be difficult to find.”
“But I have no dowry.”
“That’s easy to arrange.”
“Etienne has to do it, though, and I can’t even get in to see him.”
“Oh, Esmee!” Giselle felt giddy with the relief. She’d been so busy with her own life, and putting secret meanings behind everyone’s words and actions, she missed everything. “I can speak with Etienne. We must plan another soiree, too, one which Monsieur Ambross won’t decline. Didn’t Na…varre intimate that very thing last night?”
Giselle stumbled on the name. Had it really only been last night?
“Oh, Giselle. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me! Perhaps it’s not too late for me after all. What do you think?”
“I think we’ve done enough exploring for one day.”
“You’ll speak with Etienne?”
“Of course.” Giselle stood and waited for the trembling in her legs to subside. “I’ll do it the first moment I can. I promise.”
“And N
avarre? You’ll speak for him, too?”
“Navarre?” Giselle was in front of her or Esmee would have seen the expression. Giselle barely managed to keep her voice even.
“Oh come, Giselle. He can’t spend his entire life taking Etienne’s place about the estate.”
She was innocent of the meaning Giselle gave her words. The spurt in her heart stopped her for a moment.
“Hasn’t he spoken to you about it?” Esmee asked. “I felt certain he would, by now. You two seem very close.”
Giselle watched Esmee shut the door behind them. She didn’t trust herself to answer.
“I know him best, I think,” Esmee continued. “And I’ll tell you another secret.”
She bent down to Giselle as they reached the stairs. Giselle clutched the railing and forced herself to study the black and white flooring below them. Otherwise, she was afraid she might swoon.
“I think Navarre is in love, too! Wouldn’t it be wonderful? Would Etienne arrange a…what is it called? Oh yes, a double wedding? Navarre is quite a catch, you know. Any woman would find him an acceptable….”
Giselle didn’t hear the rest of her words. For the first time since she came to Chateau Berchand, she fainted.
~
“You gave us quite a scare, young lady.”
Louisa’s hands had to be the ones moving the cloth on Giselle’s forehead, although she didn’t feel ready to open her eyes and verify it. She was in bed, but the linens smelled of Navarre so strongly she didn’t want to open her eyes for another reason. The sheets shouldn’t have that scent.
Where was Madame Dessard? Such ineptitude wouldn’t do. Giselle had instructed them to have the linens cleaned as she’d bathed this morning. And then she’d had to suffer the blushes as the maids exclaimed over the bloodstains on the sheets.
“You’re lucky that Madame Esmee is as stout as she is. I shudder to think what could have happened if you had fallen, Giselle. It’s only by the grace of Dieu that doctors haven’t been summoned already. The staff has noodles where their minds should be.”
“What are you talking about now? So, I fainted. Is that so rare?”
“It is when the staff believes you’re expecting a Berchald heir. And brings everyone on the run to Monsieur Navarre’s chamber.”
Giselle’s eyes flew open. “I’m in his bed?”
“Oui. That was where Madame Esmee placed you. And then she came for me. You’d think you were dying the way some of the staff acts. And that Gerty is the worst. No child makes itself known so early. I told her as much when she fetched me.”
“Oh, Louisa. I’m so confused.” Giselle lifted the sodden rag from her forehead.
“You’re confused? When you’d rather die than accept the duc?”
‘Things aren’t as they appear, Louisa. I can’t say anymore. Help me up.”
“Oh no. You aren’t to move until Monsieur Navarre arrives. He’ll move you back. Esmee insisted on it. I think she was just forestalling Jean-Claude’s assistance with it. Since he offered.”
“Where’s Giselle? I heard you fainted, my love.”
Navarre pushed his way to her, oblivious to Louisa, who stood right beside him. He lifted Giselle’s hand to his cheek and leaned against it.
“I’m well, Navarre. Truly.”
Giselle pulled her hand away, while Louisa did her best to look away.
“I’m to see you to your chambers. Don’t tell me you’ll walk, either. After all, I enjoy holding you. And just this morn, you said I could sleep.”
Giselle supposed he thought he was whispering, but the smile Louisa was hiding let her know Navarre spoke too loudly.
“Navarre….”
He put one arm under her knees and lifted her. She gripped to his shoulders, trying to keep from clasping both arms about him.
“You should eat more, Madame,” he announced loudly. “You weigh nothing. Get the door, my good woman.”
Louisa opened the door, and Giselle hid her face against Navarre’s shoulder when she saw how many servants lined the hall.
“She’ll be fine, Esmee. She just needs some rest, she says.”
He spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. Giselle closed her eyes, held to his neck, and tried to memorize how his coat felt against her.
“I can’t hold you much longer, Giselle,” he whispered into her ear. “You must know what you are doing to me.”
She blushed, and hid against his neck.
“Can someone see that the door is opened ahead?”
He spoke in a rough tone. She knew why. She felt everything coming alive on her with every prolonged moment in his contact. But her desire wouldn’t be as apparent as his was.
“Of course, my lord.”
Isabelle did his bidding and waited for them to pass before shutting the door on the rest of the onlookers.
“My thanks, Navarre.”
Giselle held to him a moment longer than necessary once he lay her on her bed. It was difficult to let go.
“I’ll see you at sup, still?”
She tried to act unaffected as if they were sharing tea, and not remembering. She glanced at where he’d shown her such joy, and then back at him. When she tried to look away again, she failed.
“Unless I sleep through it, Madame, which isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.”
His eyes went to the lace of her bodice before sliding down her body. She hadn’t considered the light blue morning-gown an enticing ensemble, yet that’s how she felt. She matched the shudder that ran down his frame. She’d never felt such undiluted longing, and knew he experienced it, too.
Oh! This was terrible. Isabelle was watching them from the doorway, hovering near to show Navarre out.
“What am I saying?” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I cannot stay away. And it is useless to sleep. I close my eyes, and you’re beside me. Why do I bother describing it? Dismiss your maid, darling, and let me show you.”
He didn’t know what he asked. Or how wondrous it sounded!
“Can I get you anything, Madame?”
Isabelle spoke loudly from the door, interrupting, and reminding them of their duty as efficiently as any chaperon.
“No, thank you, Isabelle. Monsieur Navarre is just leaving.”
He walked from her before Giselle finished speaking, taking all the warmth in the room with him. Giselle turned into the pillows so Isabelle wouldn’t see her expression. She had no right to be bereft. She knew he’d come back that night, sneaking through the secret passage in his chamber to make love to his brother’s wife.
~
Navarre had changed clothes from that afternoon, although Giselle couldn’t have said for certain what he’d worn. In evening attire, he eclipsed even Jean-Claude. Giselle spent some time comparing the two. Navarre wore dark-brown velvet breeches, a light tan jacket, with a shirt and jabot of the finest beige-colored linen. He was pure masculinity, but she already knew that.
Jean-Claude was wearing medium-blue striped silk breeches, a lace-edged ecru-shaded jacket, and if Giselle wasn’t mistaken, his shirt had a purplish tone. Perhaps it was the contrast to Navarre that made it so, but his facial paint with a crescent-moon-shaped patch near his mouth and a large wig on his head made him look silly.
She was in luck, they were dining en famille. Margot hadn’t attended, leaving only six for the affair. Even with a small audience, though, Giselle felt the tension from sitting beside Navarre.
She hadn’t worn a ball gown, panniers, or large hair style, because it was just a family meal. As shocking as Isabelle had thought it, Giselle had refused to wear a corset, too. Her figure hadn’t changed the slightest, but she wanted to tease Navarre. She must have been too innocent to know the consequences.
“I understand Etienne has recovered from his accident, Giselle,” Jean-Claude said.
“Excuse me?”
He interrupted her from contemplation of Navarre’s upper lip, and it took a few moments to comprehend what he asked.
It was unbelievably crude of him. Giselle smiled behind her napkin and considered what the news meant to him. Gerty already told her Jean-Claude wasn’t welcome back at Versailles without a substantial sum of money. The fact that Etienne’ s marriage had been consummated must have given Jean-Claude fits of anxiety.
Still, it truly wasn’t amusing. Her smile faded. Jean-Claude was probably more dangerous when he was desperate, but what could he do? Henri and Jean both guarded the ducal chambers, the doors were bolted tightly, and no one was allowed in without the duchesse’s permission.
“Why yes…Etienne does visit me,” she replied finally. “I’m gratified you considered it worth noting.”
Navarre shifted beside her. Giselle fought the urge to glance at him.
“I’m simply considering my future, Giselle,” Jean-Claude replied. “It will be difficult to put aside my, shall we say, aspirations? If Etienne produces an heir.”
“Oh, I don’t believe if will be the issue, Jean-Claude. I think it will be more a matter of when.”
Giselle’s amusement colored every word. Jean-Claude jumped visibly, and Navarre sounded like he was choking. Marguerite smiled hugely and Esmee giggled into her napkin. Aunt Mimi blushed, but she looked pleased at the same time.
“I see.” Jean-Claude pushed back his chair. “I find it too stifling to finish this meal. If you ladies will excuse me? Navarre?”
Giselle watched him walk away, teetering a bit on his high heels. He was a presence even dressed as he was. She knew where he was headed, and didn’t envy Margot at all.
“If doesn’t come into the question?” Navarre whispered it to her as he bent to retrieve a dropped fork, waving away a footman as he did.
“I’m not wearing anything beneath my gown,” Giselle whispered back, covering her mouth with her napkin as she did.
“What?”
He jerked upright, and wide, blue-violet eyes glared at her. He was furious. He almost threw the fork at the servant, while his hand shook. And she had done that to him? Incredible.