Claimed By Chaos (2 page)

“I should be leaving soon, it’s getting late.” Her eyes were heavy with regret as she looked at Alastair. “I hope I am able to meet everyone. Please tell Gilles I am at Grillon's. I will wait for him to call on me or send for me.” She finished her wine, uncurled her legs and stretched them towards her slippers. Alastair started to shake his head as he fought down the urge to beg her to stay. Giselle slid her feet into her slippers and looked up at him.

His body reacted. He closed the distance between them and reached for her. He cradled her jaw and his lips fell upon hers. Alastair felt her pull his lapels as her mouth opened, welcoming him in. He groaned as her tongue danced against his. He wanted to keep her. The idea of letting her leave made his chest ache. He wanted to carry her up to his bed and learn all of her secrets and explore her body. Suddenly terrified, Alastair set her away from him and he waited until his heart stopped pounding.

“I'll call on you in the morning.” He hoped he would have regained his senses and have more information about her by then. His thumb brushed against her lip and he felt pulled towards it. He leaned back and looked at her. Her eyes were heavy as she nodded. He clenched his jaw and released her. Giselle took a deep breath and stood. He followed and looked at the clock. It was getting late, he hoped his brother was still available as he led her from the room.

In the hall, Briarly rushed toward the door and held up her cloak. Alastair lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. It was the first time he had ever performed the gesture.

“I will see you tomorrow.” He promised. She smiled and nodded as Briarly opened the door.

“Until then.” Giselle whispered and turned to leave. Alastair frowned as she waved to a hackney that passed. It stopped and she looked over her shoulder, smiling as she stepped in. She was gone before he could protest. He turned and looked at Briarly. He was pleased. He cut his eyes at him.

“Well done.” He grumbled as he strode out the door and down the steps. “I'm going to see my brother, I shouldn't be long.” He stated as he signaled for another hackney.

Chapter 3

“Sir Alastair?” Bennings held the door wide and eyed the hackney with concern. He was even more disturbed to see that Alastair was without a hat, gloves or cane. “Is everything alright, sir?” Alastair pressed the older man’s arm and nodded.

“I believe so but I need to see his lordship immediately.” Bennings looked in the direction of the earl’s chambers and frowned. “It's urgent, Bennings.”

“Yes, sir. Please make yourself comfortable in his lordship's study.” With that, he left. Alastair turned and strode down the hall.

Once in Gilles’ study, he went to the sideboard and poured a brandy. He walked toward the desk and examined the items on the top. A news sheet and ledgers. Everything seemed in order, there was nothing urgent or of concern. Alastair inhaled. He could smell the baby among the typical smells of the study.
Is Ethan asleep?
He wondered. He enjoyed his nephew immensely and didn't like the idea of visiting Spencer Place and not seeing him. It was most likely too late.

He settled into the chair and stretched as he rested his foot on his knee. Alastair sipped his brandy and revisited the events in his parlor. In the aftermath, he was able to admit that it was very likely that he was in love with Giselle. He had all the disturbing symptoms. Mainly possessiveness. He wanted to claim her and keep her for himself. It made no sense to Alastair. Her overwhelming beauty aside, she was a collection of all of the same parts as any other woman. She would probably move and feel like any of the others he’d bedded. What was it about her that cindered his control? It was like a compulsion, he had to kiss her, he needed to touch her. Even more disturbing was how urgent he was for her to touch him. In the past, he went to great lengths to keep his partners from touching him. He certainly never enjoyed kissing them. He could have kissed Giselle for hours. Lucien had said he felt as if he could live in Mirabelle's mouth. At the time, the statement was confusing and mildly disgusting. Now, it made perfect sense.

What surprised him most was how calm he felt. Alastair was certain there would be a great deal of suffering ahead. Despite knowing little about Giselle, he determined that she was impetuous and vivacious. She would be quite unsettling for him. She was also very forward and sensual, that had the potential to be uncomfortable for him as well. There was also the matter of her identity. Aside from her name, he knew very little about her and he sensed that there was something very important beneath the surface that he couldn't yet decipher.

Alastair looked up as Gilles strode into the study. Gilles’ eyes swept over him and he relaxed. He'd been worried. Alastair smiled as he took in his brother’s appearance. He was still in trousers and a shirt but his feet were bare and his hair was disheveled.

“I was told it was urgent. If you'd shown up five minutes later, you'd be cooling your heels for hours.” Gilles turned to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. “What is it? Or did you just come to drink my brandy?” He smiled as he sat across from Alastair.

“A lady called at Burton Place this evening. She just left.” He said softly as he retrieved her calling card from inside his coat. Gilles raised a brow and stared. A moment later, he smiled and saluted Alastair.

“Congratulations! You're a man now, Alastair.” He teased before he took a long swallow. Alastair snorted.

“And you are an ass. She was looking for you.” He stretched as he passed the card to Gilles.

His brow furrowed as he reached for it. He sat back and raised the card. The color drained from his face and the snifter slipped from his hand and landed on the rug with a soft thud. Alastair leaned forward. Gilles swallowed loudly and shook his head violently.

“This isn't possible.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Gilles?” Alastair called to him but he didn't hear. He was still shaking his head.

“This isn't possible.” He repeated as he stared at the card. His head snapped up and his eyes were tortured as he stared at Alastair. “Describe her to me!” His eyes became wild as he waited.

“Exquisitely lovely, petite, black hair and the most curious eyes. Not blue but…”

“Violet.” Gilles whispered as his head fell into his hands. As Alastair watched as he began to shake and his breathing became rapid. Alastair was extremely concerned and confused.

“Gilles?” Alastair said softly. When Gilles looked up, his eyes were flooded with tears.

“Was she well, Alastair? Did she look… was she alright?” He asked urgently. Alastair nodded.

“She was well, I noticed nothing in her appearance that would suggest she wasn't.” Alastair tilted his head when his brother started crying and laughing. He stood, picked up his snifter and returned to the sideboard. When he turned and leaned against it, his expression was one of overwhelming relief. He chuckled as he swirled his glass. Alastair frowned. “Why is it impossible that Lady St. Claire would call upon me this evening?” He asked. When Gilles looked up, his expression was utterly serious.

“Because I saw her die on a beach in Calais.” Gilles pushed away from the sideboard and returned to his seat. Alastair stared and waited for an explanation. Clearly, his brother was mistaken. “I saw a man point a gun at her back and fire it. I saw her fall and blood pour from her body. By the time I reached the beach, the tide had carried her body away.” He was remembering it. Alastair felt rage curling within him as he imagined it.

“The dreams? They were about her?” He asked once he could trust his voice. Gilles nodded.

“Where is she now?” He asked.

“Grillon's.” Alastair heard Gilles groan. “She said she would wait for your instructions. Who is she?” Alastair waited as Gilles stared across the room for several moments before he swore and began pacing.

“We have to get her out of there. I’ll direct her to have her things sent here but we have to get her out of London immediately. I need to talk to her and find out what happened, away from the ton.” He squeezed his temples.

“Who is she, Gilles?” Alastair was starting to feel his temper stir. It rarely did but nothing frustrated him more than having information withheld. Gilles grimaced.

“That's a very complicated question. She is Lady Giselle St. Claire.” He looked at Alastair as if that was explanation enough. “We need to deal with that first. I was planning to leave for Winthorpe tomorrow morning. Lucien wants Lucifer for Bellona. If I go on Lucifer, can you get her out of London discreetly and follow?” Gilles paused as he waited.

“Of course but you still haven't explained who she is to you. What aren’t you telling me?” Alastair went to fill his snifter as he forced himself to relax. When he turned Gilles was rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“I need to talk to her first, Alastair. I know nothing more now than I did when I returned from France. I don't know what would put you or her in danger. I don't know why she's here, now. I have an idea but I don't want to distract us with conjecture.”

“Were the two of you lovers?” Alastair was confident that Giselle had not lied but after Gilles’ dramatic response, he wanted to be sure. He had his answer before Gilles spoke. His head jerked back and he gasped before he shook his head.

“She's like Mirabelle to me, Alastair. I've known her since she was fourteen.” He went to his desk and began writing a letter. Alastair took the seat across from him.

“I want to marry her.” He was surprised by how easy it was to say, how certain he was. Gilles’ eyes grew round and he froze. When he finally looked up, his mouth hung open and he blinked several times before shaking his head.

“I have to advise you to reconsider your intentions, Alastair.” Gilles said softly.

“Do you think I'm not worthy or suitable?” His chest felt tight and he was surprised that he was disappointed. Gilles leaned back and sighed.

“Absolutely not. I could think of no one more worthy, I promise.” Alastair was relieved.

“What is your objection, then?” He watched his brother closely.

“It’s not that I object. Not at all. But I think it would be a terrible idea for you to pursue Giselle. Not only because I know that she, herself has very serious objections to marrying, but because I think she wouldn't be an ideal match for you.” His expression was one of concern and appeal.

“Why do you say that?” He was very interested in his brother’s concerns but he knew they would not change his mind. Gilles raked his hands through his hair.

“You met her. I'm sure you noticed that she isn't the most tranquil and passive person. I can't see her spending a quiet night in the library reading or embroidering.”

“And you think this is the sort of wife I would want?” Alastair had a feeling he should be offended.

“I honestly don't know, Alastair! Until a few minutes ago, I was quite certain you would never marry. I don't know what sort of woman would suit you, I've never known you to even look at a woman. Why have you suddenly decided to marry? And her of all people?” Gilles rested his elbows on his desk and stared expectantly. Alastair decided on honesty.

“I couldn't feel my body, or move, when I first saw her, Gilles. I've never had a spiritual moment before in my life but when I held her, I could have easily believed that she had fallen from heaven. I've never felt anything like that. I kissed her. I couldn't help myself. Can you believe that? Twice. I lost control and it was the most human I have ever felt.” Alastair paused but Gilles merely stared. “I've bedded three and sixty women. I can describe their every detail because that is how my mind works. Despite the fact that I did not find one more attractive than the other or take more pleasure from one than the others, I can tell you that 42 had red hair and a scar on her ankle and 12 was Spanish and had small breasts. I did not choose any of them because something drew me to them. I required a woman, either to become proficient at lovemaking or because it was time. I have never spontaneously given into my urges, I have never been weak in the face of them until this evening.” Alastair stood and went to the window. “I want
her.
No matter what it does to me.” When he turned, Gilles was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“Of all the women, Alastair… Just wait until tomorrow. Once you know more, we’ll talk. If you still feel the same, I'll help you in any way I can.” His gaze implored. Alastair nodded and returned to the desk and waited for Gilles to finish his letter. He handed it to him and when Alastair read it, his eyebrows rose.

“She'll be able to understand this?” He asked. Gilles nodded.

“Do not let anyone see you leave town with her. It's going to be madness as it is without adding you to the equation. I'll have to prepare Elise and maman. Once word gets out that she's moved here, they'll be mobbed. We may need to lock this place down before we leave. I'm hoping the worst of it will blow over before we return.” He rose and came around the desk. He leaned against it and crossed his arms.

“What is it that I’m not aware of? Even Briarly acted as if she was some sort of celebrity or royalty.” Alastair watched as Gilles’ face fell in shock just before he threw his bed back and laughed.

“Really, Alastair? I understand your disdain for society but you must have heard of the Double Capet.” He waited. Alastair held both of his hands up and shook his head. Gilles groaned. “The Capetians, Alastair! Descended from Hugh Capet, they've only ruled most of France and Europe for the last eight hundred years or so.” Alastair felt his shoulders tighten. He was aware of the historical significance of the dynasty, he hoped that this wasn't going where he feared.

“And this Double Capet?” He asked carefully. Gilles laughed again.

“This is bloody beautiful. You know everything except this and it is going to just kick you in the ass.” He smiled broadly. “About twenty four years ago, two lovely young people came to town. One from one branch of the Capetian Dynasty, the other from a different. The ton was in alt, there were grand balls and lavish feasts. It was a good year for modistes and tailors as every eligible man and woman was determined to land a Capet. To everyone's great disappointment, they found each other. It was love at first sight. Shortly after what some still call The Wedding of the Century, they left London. Both did not have a favorable opinion of the ton, they had been ruthlessly scrutinized and in unreasonable demand. They swore to never return and retired to the country. It wasn't long before they had a child, a daughter. When the ton got wind of her birth, the countdown began. They've been waiting for the young lady, the Double Capet, for more than twenty years. Would you like to guess what her name is?” Gilles schooled his features as he watched Alastair absorb the consequences.

“Giselle St. Claire is the Double Capet.” He whispered.

“Isn't that just the height of irony? She’s cousin to both Louis and Ferdinand.” He drawled. Alastair scowled. “As soon as they know she's arrived, she will be under siege. For as long as I've known her, Giselle has sworn that she would not allow the ton to bully her or invade her life. She’s known since she was a child that when she chose to marry, her lineage would be the dominant factor. So, she has lived her life flying in the face of her expectations and as far as I know is still determined to never marry. Whatever it is that has brought her here to London, it must be pretty damned important. Our first priority is to get her to Winthorpe, then I’ll find out what happened in Calais and why she's here. After that, we can decide what part you’ll play and if you're still interested in marrying her.” Gilles waited for Alastair's agreement. Once he nodded, he patted him on the back and turned him toward the study door. “Go prepare for your trip to Winthorpe. I need to warn Elise and maman.”