Claimed By Chaos (18 page)

Chapter 33

Why must it be so bloody bright in the morning?
Alastair lamented as he entered the dining room. By design, he was the first one down and dishes and plates were just being arranged by Hendrick and his tidy little army of servants. He took his usual seat and nodded in gratitude as a cup of tea was set before him.

While he would have liked nothing more than to remain in his bed all day, in the peace and dark, the need to see Giselle and to talk to her compelled his brain and limbs to function enough to dress and stumble downstairs. He had blundered, badly he suspected. So, Alastair forced himself to rise before anyone else so that he would be sure he didn't miss her. If he was lucky, she would be the next person down and he could talk to her before his sister joined them.

“Good morning!” Mirabelle chirped as she swept in.
Oh, hell
. Alastair clutched his head and groaned. “Indeed! I’m surprised you’re here. I don’t expect to see Lucien up and about for several hours.” She piled food on her plate and took her usual seat next to his. “Were you celebrating something or did you both just lose your minds?” Mirabelle asked as she scooped a forkful of eggs into her mouth. Alastair watched her chew as the smell of eggs and bacon assaulted him. His stomach lurched and his mouth became bitter. He swallowed painfully before he stood and moved two chairs down the table.

“I can’t speak for Lucien, but I was trying to erase the memory of the scene you forced upon me in your bedchamber yesterday.” He muttered as he reached for his tea. Mirabelle smiled mischievously.

“It did seem perfectly fitting that you should be the one to rescue him. You were the one to catch all the fish, after all.” She seemed pleased with herself as she slathered jam on her toast. She looked up and smiled as Giselle sailed into the room. Alastair forced his head to raise and for a moment felt relieved to see that she was smiling brightly. As soon as her eyes reached his, they dimmed and she halted. Giselle blinked rapidly before she continued to the sideboard. Mirabelle frowned as she looked at Alastair. Giselle filled her plate and then took the seat across from Mirabelle.

“Good morning.” Alastair said softly. Giselle kept her eyes on her plate as she nodded weakly. Mirabelle’s eyes flicked between them before they settled on Giselle.

“Are you feeling well?” She asked cautiously. Giselle looked up and Alastair noticed that her eyes were red, the delicate skin at the edges looked raw and slightly swollen. Giselle shook her head and cleared her throat.

“I didn’t sleep well and I feel a bit ill.” She lied as she looked down and attacked her plate. Mirabelle cast him a scathing look and he frowned.

“Giselle, I was wondering if we might go for a walk after breakfast.” Alastair asked gently. She looked up at him and shook her head so faintly, he might have missed it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely.

“Actually, I was hoping Mirabelle would go through my gowns with me this morning. I’m afraid I won’t have enough for all of the events we’ll have to attend once we return to London. If I’m to have more made, I’ll need to order them soon.” She looked to Mirabelle who nodded uncomfortably.

“Certainly. As Lucien will be in bed most of the day, I have no other plans.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly. Giselle and Mirabelle seemed to be in unspoken competition to see who could eat the most, the quickest. Alastair kept his eyes on his tea and tried not to smell or hear. His head throbbed and stalled as he tried to weigh and analyze everything that had happened in his room the evening prior. Everything was blurry. He remembered the overwhelming pleasure and that for a brief moment, he had probably been the happiest he’d ever been. Then, he’d tried to coerce Giselle to stay and made a clumsy attempt at suggesting that they marry. Alastair groaned as he raised his teacup.

No wonder she’d fled. His drunken, lust driven, lazy almost proposal must have been disappointing. He was sure that she was beginning to soften toward marriage and would accept him if he could offer her something she could build a life around, if she believed he could make her happy. Instead, he’d treated it as a justification to behave scandalously, to stay in his bed.

Mirabelle and Giselle rose and Alastair looked up. He opened his mouth to say something but could find nothing. Giselle’s eyes wouldn’t meet his and Mirabelle was scowling at him.
I
deserve that, I suppose
. He became dizzy and his vision blurred. He sighed as he focused on the tea in his hands. He’d have to wait until later to apologize. Hopefully, he’d find some way to repair the damage he’d done.

A plate of toast slid in front of him. Alastair looked up to see Giselle standing over him. He searched her eyes. They looked fragile and scared. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice.

“Giselle, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” She shook her head and shut her eyes.

“Please, don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned and Alastair was too slow as he stood and reached for her. She disappeared through the door, leaving him with his cold tea and toast. He fell into his seat and stared at the bread. Despite his stomach’s violent objections, He picked up a piece and bit into it and chewed it slowly as he tried to make his brain work.

Chapter 34

“What’s wrong, Giselle? And don’t give me this nonsense about feeling ill. You look as if you spent half of the night crying. You were perfectly fine when we went to bed last night and Alastair is acting like he killed your cat.” Mirabelle demanded as she opened the wardrobe. She gasped in delight as her eyes took in the brightly colored silks, velvets and satins. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at Giselle only to find her leaned against the bedpost, staring out the window. Mirabelle pursed her lips.

As far as she could tell, she had two tasks to accomplish. First, she needed to fix whatever mess Alastair had made. Second, she had to figure out how many of Giselle’s gowns were suitable for London. There was no doubt that the quality was exceptional and they were all exquisite but what was acceptable in France could easily be considered too fast in certain London ballrooms and salons. Especially the sort that Giselle and Alastair would be going about in. It was a shame really. Mirabelle pulled out an aqua silk gown and sighed.
A woman could do a lot of damage in a gown like this.
Mirabelle smiled as she turned.

“Will you try this on for me?” She asked and Giselle blinked as if she’d forgot that she wasn’t alone. She nodded as she reached for it. “It’s a shame I’m so much taller than you, I see quite a few gowns I’d love to borrow. Perhaps I’ll have Anna and Alice copy a few of them. Of course, they’ll have to be altered a bit to suit the current style in Town. Though I do like the French styles better.” Mirabelle mused as she crossed to help Giselle with her buttons. She couldn’t help but smile once she was down to her chemise.

It was easy to see why Alastair was smitten. With her petite, lush curves and exotic features, Giselle was sensuality incarnate. It didn’t hurt that she was cunning and mysterious as well. She was the perfect riddle for her brother.

“Did you and Alastair have a falling out?” Mirabelle asked softy as she helped Giselle step into the gown. Giselle sighed as she shook her head.

“I’m afraid it’s complicated.” She replied as she arranged the straps. “I’m not even certain what is happening anymore.” Giselle stared into the mirror but Mirabelle knew she wasn’t looking at her refection. Which was unfortunate. That dress! Giselle looked like a goddess, she reminded her of Venus rising from the sea. Layers of the sheerest silk in various shades of soft blue were layered and draped so cleverly that they looked more like waves of water splashing around her waist and shoulders that could recede at any moment and slide away, leaving her bare.

“You should wear this tonight.” Mirabelle kept her tone nonchalant despite her excitement. Alastair was going to die, just die when he saw Giselle in this dress! She couldn’t wait to see his reaction. “You’ll have to go without a chemise.”

“I think it’s a bit too much, don’t you?” Giselle asked as she turned and viewed the back. God, the thing practically draped down to her bottom.

“You might as well use it here, you won’t be able to wear it in London and it would be a crime not to wear it at least a few times.” Mirabelle stood back and examined Giselle from head to toe and smiled. She’d bet every hair on her head that Alastair proposed tonight. She just had to do her best to work on Giselle so he didn't fall on his face. “What did my brother do last night?” She asked softly as she started pulling the pins from Giselle’s hair. The tight chignon she currently had it in wasn’t going to work. Mirabelle could see that Giselle was about to deny that anything had happened. She cleared her throat and looked at her pointedly and Giselle bit her lip as her brows pulled together.

“He was about to suggest that we should marry.” She whispered as she opened her palm so that she could hold the pins. Mirabelle made sure she remained very calm. Jumping in the air and dancing a jig would not be helpful.

“And that would be a bad thing?” She kept her voice even and soft.

“It would be a terrible thing. He can’t marry me. I thought that he and I would be friends.” She looked down to hide the blush that started to stain her cheeks. “And possibly more.” Giselle whispered. “But I’m afraid we’re both getting carried away and I think one, or both of us is going to get hurt before this is over.” Mirabelle no longer felt so giddy. She had a feeling that Giselle was correct and the thought of Alastair being hurt made her pause.

“Why can’t he marry you?” Mirabelle asked cautiously as she continued to pull pins. Lord, this woman had a lot of hair.

“I’m not like the women he might have considered courting in the past, Mirabelle. He deserves someone good that won’t potentially ruin him.” Giselle smiled softly but it was weak and didn’t reach her eyes. Mirabelle frowned as she turned Giselle so she could see her in the mirror as she piled her hair on top of her head.

“You’re a good person, Giselle. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. I don’t understand why you think you’ll ruin Alastair.”

“Mirabelle, I’ve been a spy. It goes without saying that I’ve been in plenty of compromising situations. It isn’t as if I’ve had a chaperone the last few years. Not that any of that matters when you consider that I’ve killed people. If any of that were to come out, the ton would be horrified and I would be an outcast.”

“I can’t impress upon you how little Alastair cares about society. Actually, he loathes it. He had no idea who you were or why you were going to create such an uproar.” Mirabelle smiled at the shock on Giselle’s face.

“Truly?” She gasped.

“Truly. He couldn’t give a damn about the ton or what it considers important. If it weren’t for this traitor, he would probably go the rest of his life without attending another ton event.” Mirabelle stood back and chewed her lip for a moment as she considered Giselle’s hair. It wasn’t quite right. She plucked out a few pins and let the whole mass fall. “I’ve never really asked my brothers and Lucien what they did during the war. I know they try very hard to live their lives as if they are ordinary men. Whether it’s because they want to forget or they don’t want us to feel differently about them, I have chosen not to pry. But I know there are things that Alastair has done that Giles and Lucien won’t even discuss and that there are things they don’t want to know about. Of the three of them, he is the… darkest. If that makes sense.” Mirabelle paused and looked at Giselle. She nodded, not just in a way that implied agreement but a deeper understanding.

“It’s in his eyes.” Giselle whispered.

“I don’t care what he’s done. It was all for England and for us. And I trust him. He will always be my Alastair. But my point is that if he’s done dark, unspeakable things, who is to say you could harm his reputation any more than his own past could?” Mirabelle waited as she watched Giselle consider her question.

“Men can kill for their country, they’re called soldiers. While it isn’t exactly acceptable to be a spy, for someone like your brothers and Lucien, it could be overlooked because they were serving the Crown. It’s a very different matter when it’s a woman, Mirabelle. I would be so tainted, so beyond redemption… My name, yours and your brothers’ wouldn't be able to save me. I doubt my cousins would even receive me. Louis certainly wouldn’t.” Giselle laughed softly as she shook her head. Mirabelle narrowed her eyes as she considered her statement.

“Then we’d just have to do everything we could to make sure you were never exposed.” There was no humor in her voice. Mirabelle may not have been a spy or an assassin but there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to protect her family. Giselle’s eyes grew wide for a moment. “I think you care very deeply for my brother, Giselle. And I think that the two of you could be very happy. I want that for the both of you, very much. I also think that if you made up your mind to be happy with Alastair, you would protect that at all costs.” She watched as Giselle became distant. Mirabelle knew she had given her a lot to consider so she remained silent as she worked on her hair. After a few moments Giselle frowned and shook her head.

“I still think Alastair would be happier with someone else. Even if my past wasn’t what it was, the burden of my family would be an added frustration that he shouldn’t have to endure. I’m sure that there are plenty of women that would suit him better.” Her eyes found Mirabelle’s in the mirror. Mirabelle rolled her eyes and snorted.

“Two things: One, I defy you to find any person that doesn’t have some sort of flaw, personally or in their past that must be forgiven or accepted. Do you know that Lucien was publicly, in a gossip sheet, declared to be
“The ton’s most talented and wicked
rake?”
Women would actually share with me, in rather explicit detail, the things they had done with him. And many of them were married.” Mirabelle appreciated Giselle’s stunned expression.

“That’s… that’s appalling!” Giselle gasped.

“I know!” Mirabelle agreed. “The ton is full of hypocrites and idiots but that is aside from the point. If I can overlook that and you can overlook all of Alastair’s idiosyncrasies, he can cope with being married to a Capet. Though I think that he would just avoid the whole thing, honestly. Unless you were to drag him around Town and host dinners and balls, he’d just hide in his library and pretend you were just plain old Mrs. Spencer. Though you’d be Lady Spencer, technically… but you get my point.” Mirabelle nudged Giselle playfully but she looked as if she was a world away. She blinked rapidly before her eyes met Mirabelle’s.

“All of that would be lovely but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s all unnecessarily complicated. I’m sure that even with his idiosyncrasies, as you call them, he could find many more suitable women to marry.” Giselle became absorbed with the pins in her hand. Mirabelle suspected she was trying to hide how effected she was at the idea of Alastair with someone else. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“Which brings me to my second point. There’s never been anyone else, Giselle.” Her head snapped up and Mirabelle smiled. “Until the night Alastair met you, he was very opposed to the idea of marrying. None of us had ever seen him so much as look at a woman, let alone flirt with or court anyone.” Giselle was visibly shocked.
This will definitely knock her off her feet.
“In fact, there have been times when we’ve suspected that he didn’t actually like women. I know some among the ton have speculated that he prefers men.” Mirabelle almost laughed, if Giselle’s eyes grew any wider, they might fall out of her head. She shook her head furiously.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no… Alastair definitely likes women.” Giselle’s mouth opened and closed several times as she struggled to put her thoughts together. Mirabelle suddenly found her curiosity very piqued and she leaned closer and held her breath. Giselle did not disappoint. “I think he’s been with a lot of women, Mirabelle. We haven’t… yet, but from what I’ve experienced so far…” She licked her lips and breathed deeply as she swayed. She was clearly effected. Mirabelle was as well. She dropped onto the stool.

“Huh… Are you sure?” She looked up at Giselle who nodded emphatically. “Who knew?” Mirabelle mumbled. “He’s so restrained and quiet. I’ve never really seen him excited or do anything spontaneous. Not that I’ve spent a lot of time imagining Alastair in that way but I would think he’d be very…” She couldn’t even get her mind around it.

“Insatiable, powerful, vigorous… wicked.” Giselle shivered and Mirabelle’s mouth dropped.

“Really?” She couldn’t believe they were discussing the same person. “He’s so peculiar about everything and sex is so… untidy and there’s so much touching. He doesn’t even like to be hugged.” Mirabelle looked up to find Giselle frowning at her.

“He does take the time to fold things and make sure they are in their place but I think that calms him. Because of his condition, it takes him some time to adjust to being touched but once he does, he’s affectionate and incredibly sensual.” Giselle was so defensive of Alastair that Mirabelle couldn’t help but feel touched.

“What do you mean ‘because of his condition’?” Mirabelle asked cautiously. Giselle’s brow furrowed and she looked at her as if she had invented her own language.

“You know how he’s so sensitive to touch. And I suspect sounds and bright light as well. Don’t you?” Her mouth fell open as Mirabelle shook her head and Giselle sagged against the vanity.

“I just thought he didn’t like being hugged because he thought he was too old for such things or it was to do with his aversion to anything emotional.” Mirabelle explained. Giselle shook her head slowly.

“He’s very sensitive. If he isn’t expecting it or it’s too much, too quickly, being touched hurts him.” Giselle whispered and Mirabelle gasped. “It’s almost excruciating at first, I think. Even holding hands is difficult for him.”

“But he’s able to touch you and he lets you touch him?” Mirabelle’s voice was shaky and weak. She felt like crying. Giselle bit her lip as she blushed.

“He has no problem touching me. As for me touching him, he’s trying. He usually keeps his clothes on. I’ve been able to get him to remove his shirt twice.” She sighed and looked Mirabelle.

“My God, I feel like I barely know him. First the tattoos and China and now I find out he’s got this whole secret passionate side and that he’s suffered this condition in silence his whole life.” Mirabelle couldn’t decide if she had failed her brother of if he needed a kick in the balls for hiding so much. She didn’t know how to react.

Lucien. It would all make sense once she talked to him. Mirabelle decided to set her emotions aside until she could discuss everything with him. There was one thing she was very certain of.

“Giselle.” She waited until their eyes met. “He needs you and I think that you need him too.” Mirabelle didn’t wait for her to protest or try to find an excuse to leave. She stood up and went to the wardrobe. “Put that aside for later, you have to wear it tonight. Let’s see what else we have in here.”

“You knew!” Mirabelle gasped as she pushed against Lucien’s chest. He fell back against the mattress dramatically and laughed.

“Gilles let the bit about the women slip the night before he left and Alastair only told me about his condition yesterday.” He tried to pull her to him but she refused to be distracted.