Highland Honor (10 page)

Nigel tensed, then cursed. Something was wrong. Every instinct told him so. Since there was no sight or sound of their enemy approaching him, he decided that it was Gisele who had roused his sudden concern. He hesitated, not wanting to act rashly. After hours of running he could simply be imagining danger around every corner, and all he would accomplish by hunting her down was robbing her of a moment of privacy. Then he heard a soft cry and hurried into the wood, striving for both silence and speed.

When he saw the man standing over Gisele, sword drawn, Nigel struggled against the urge to charge to her aid. The man could easily kill Gisele before he could be stopped. What puzzled Nigel was where the man had come from. He had seen no other DeVeaux. This man had to be a scout, or the DeVeaux had spread themselves far and wide in the hope of improving their chances of capturing Gisele. There was also the possibility that the man acted alone, simply hoping to gain all of the reward for himself. As he edged closer, Nigel decided that the man deserved to pay dearly for his greed.

“Do you wish to murder me, or take me to others who will commit the deed for you?” Gisele asked, tensed and prepared for any chance to get away.

“You will be easier to handle if you are dead,” the man replied, smiling faintly.

“Such a brave man you are to cut dead a small, unarmed woman.”

“You are a murdering bitch. Is it not better to die by the sword than to hang, dying slowly and painfully as you have all of your life's breath choked out of you?”

“I would prefer not to die at all.” He painted a bone-chilling picture, but Gisele refused to allow him to see her fear. “It astounds me to discover how many people believe the word of the DeVeaux. Rich and powerful they may be, but they have long been known to have little honor. The truth rarely stains their tongues, either.”

“What concern is that of mine? This quarrel is between you and them, and they have the coin.”

“I have coin,” she said, wondering if she could simply buy her way out of danger, but his quick, rough laugh swiftly killed that hope.

“No one has a purse as large as the DeVeaux.”

She inched back as he stepped closer, the point of his sword aimed at her heart. “So greed is why you are ready to stain your hands with the blood of an innocent woman.”

“Innocent or not, I care not, and my hands are already well stained. A few more drops will make no difference.”

He started to move, and Gisele struggled to get to her feet, her heart pounding when she realized how hard it was going to be to elude the thrust of his sword. Then, suddenly, he stopped moving, a look of horrified surprise twisting his homely face. As he slowly fell to his knees, Gisele realized that Nigel stood behind him. She carefully stood up as Nigel wiped the blood from his sword, using the dead man's jupon.

“I was attempting to talk him out of killing me,” she said and took several slow, deep breaths to calm herself.

“Was there much chance that ye were going to succeed?” Nigel asked, stepping up beside her and gently rubbing her back, pleased to feel her trembling still beneath his hand.

“No chance at all. Greed had blinded him to all reason.”

“Your cousin warned ye.” Nigel took her by the hand and started to lead her back to the horses.

“I know. It stirs my gall to admit he was right.” She exchanged a brief grin with him. “I fear a part of me believed that my small size and sex would give me some protection. That was folly.”

“It was, lass. The men following the DeVeaux lead would probably nay care if ye were but a suckling bairn. Whichever one of your husband's kinsmen is leading this chase, he hasnae asked that ye be captured alive.”

“They do not care who metes out their justice, as long as it is done.” When they reached the horses, she frowned and looked around even as she mounted. “It would appear that the man was alone.”

“Aye, it would,” Nigel agreed as he mounted his horse and started to ride. “He didnae wish to share the bounty. That greed led him to his grave. What I cannae be certain of is how far away his companions are.”

Gisele shivered, unable to fully suppress her fear. This time she had come chillingly close to paying with her life for a murder she had not committed. Although she tried to be strong by clinging to false hope, she knew she had truly stared death in the face. She needed a respite from the danger in order to regain her strength.

That confrontation had also revealed that she had several faults in her thinking. What she had feared most, what she had really been fighting against, was capture and being dragged before some DeVeau to suffer an unjust trial. Deep in her heart she had never truly believed that anyone other than a DeVeau would kill a small, unarmed woman. She had had faith in the rules a knight was expected to live by, that they would protect, or at least not harm, those who were weaker than they. That had been foolish. The sort of man who would do the bidding of a DeVeau did not abide by any chivalrous code. She had to put such beliefs out of her mind and fully understand that she was not just saving herself from her husband's family, but from every knave in service to the DeVeaux and some simply trying to earn the bounty placed on her head.

Nigel glanced back at her as he led them across a shallow, rock-strewn creek. He had saved her, but it had been a near thing, too near. The thought of how close he had come to losing her still chilled his blood. He hoped it would make them both more cautious, but he also did not want to leave Gisele too afraid.

“Dinnae look so fretful, lass.” he said. “We can neither see nor hear a DeVeau, so our enemies cannae be too close.”

“We did not see or hear that man, either,” she replied.

“Aye, true enough. But now we ken that they may come at us one at a time, and we can watch for that threat.”

She smiled sadly. “We need more eyes if we are to do all of this watching and do it well.”

“It would be helpful if we had some ally watching our backs, but I am nay sure it would help us in any other way. 'Tis much easier for two people to hide than three or more. And how can we be sure of who we can trust?” He smiled faintly when she cursed. “I would trust my kinsmen, but they arenae here.”

“And I do not trust all of my kinsmen,” she said. “I trusted Guy, but he can no longer help us. Beyond that?” She shrugged.

“Ye dinnae trust your cousin David?” Nigel recognized that a lingering touch of jealousy prompted his question.

“I want to but I cannot, not completely. He stood with those who condemned me for almost a year. Now, because he claims he has had a change of heart I must believe in him, simply because he is my blood? I think not. When my husband was murdered and I stood accused, my family lost all they had hoped to gain by my marriage to DeVeau. How can I be sure that they are not seeking to recoup some of that loss by gaining the bounty the DeVeaux offer?”

Nigel stared at her for a moment, then grimaced and turned his attention back to the trail they followed. He really wanted to argue in favor of her family, but he could not. He did not know any of them well enough to vouch for them. What Gisele said also made a great deal of sense. His family would never betray him like that, but he had no way to be sure that her family would not.

“Ye cannae be sure,” he reluctantly admitted, “but ye shouldnae judge your kinsmen that harshly. Aye, they betrayed you—by refusing to believe your claims of innocence and refusing to help you in even the smallest of ways—but there is a long journey from that to actually joining with your pursuers and trying to profit from your death.”

“But you do agree that I cannot completely discard the possibility, long journey though it may be?”

“Nay, just dinnae let their first betrayal, their failure to help you, completely poison how, when, and if, ye trust them again. They are your kinsmen. They may not be perfect or ever faithful, but they are blood. One should ne'er completely turn one's back on one's blood. After all, not all of your family deserted you, and many may have just committed the sin of silence.”

Gisele nodded and smiled, her spirits lifted slightly by his words. It was sad that she could no longer place her full trust in her family, but Nigel was right. She did not have to completely turn her back on all of them. Many of them might not be dear friends she could trust with her life and her deepest secrets, but she did not have to see them all as her enemies, either. As she nudged her mount into a faster pace in order to keep up with Nigel's increased speed, Gisele realized that she now had some hope. When the threat to her life was finally over, she might well be able to go home again.

The water was cold, but it was also sweetly clean and refreshing. Gisele sat on the softly grassed bank of the small pond and washed herself off, relieved to bathe away the dirt from a long day of riding. She looked around the spot Nigel had chosen for their campsite, and was moved by its beauty.

Tall, lush trees surrounded the clearing, sheltering them from the heat and from the sight of their enemies. The late spring wildflowers were all abloom, scattered thickly around the glade, adding color and a soft scent. It was so lovely, so peaceful yet filled with the sounds of birds and small animals, that Gisele felt as if her very spirit was being soothed. She could not believe that any harm could come to her in such a tranquil place although she knew it would be foolish to let the place lull her into believing she was safe. Gisele sighed as she bent over the water and, using her cupped hands to scoop up water, rinsed the dust from her hair. If she and Nigel could find this beautiful glade, then so could the DeVeaux.

She hastily rubbed her hair dry, straightened her clothing, and went to build the campfire. If she kept herself busy, she might not do so much thinking. Thinking too much only left her upset, uneasy, and, sometimes, even afraid.

Once the fire was started, Gisele sat down beside it and looked around. The soft, golden light of the setting sun made the glade even more beautiful. This was not a place to allow dark thoughts, worries, and fears intrude upon its peace, she mused. She breathed deeply, savoring the quiet, then cursed when her thoughts turned to Nigel. Why would her mind not obey her wish for peace?

Now that she was not running for her life, now that Nigel had evaded the DeVeaux for a while, it was hard not to think about what had happened between them at the inn. She was still not sure she understood what he had done to her, or why. No one had ever made her feel such things, certainly not her husband. Gisele suspected she should be outraged, perhaps even a little afraid, but found that she was mostly curious.

Was that what all the minstrels sang about? It was a glorious feeling, and instinct told her that it would probably be even better if shared. That a man with a gentle, skilled touch could stir such feeling in a woman also explained why some women took lovers. After enduring her husband's brutal attacks, Gisele had often wondered how any woman could willingly go to any man, and had been struck dumb to realize that some women embraced more than one. Now she began to understand.

Nigel had surprised her this morning, seduced her while she was more asleep than awake. Gisele supposed she ought to be furious, appalled, and offended, but no matter how deep she looked within herself she was none of those things. He had warned her that he planned to seduce her, and she had not firmly told him that she would not allow it. In a way, she had accepted the challenge. Neither had he used any tactics that were cruel or dishonorable. Gisele knew that some of her ease with his attempts to seduce her came from the surety that Nigel Murray would always heed a no.

She had not said no this morning, she thought with a grimace and a flush of embarrassment. She had been most willing, so willing she may well have shouted yes at the top of her voice.
Another weakness
, she mused, and shook her head. She was uncovering a great many of those.

One thing she did know for certain was that she had to make some decision about Nigel. There was passion between them. She could no longer deny or ignore it. And after this morning she could no longer just leave Nigel to play his game, a game she was certain he would now play much more seriously. He knew he could win, now. Before they bedded down for the night she had to decide if she were going to allow him to win or put a firm end to it now, and perhaps, forever.

Gisele gasped in surprise when Nigel suddenly appeared at her side, proudly displaying a quail ready for cooking. She felt unsettled by his abrupt arrival, since she had been thinking about him, and prayed that the shadows of sunset hid her blushes. Hoping he would think her unease was due to his habit of sneaking up on her, Gisele returned his smile.

“So, we will feast tonight,” she murmured as he put the bird on a spit and sat down across from her.

“One should enjoy God's bounty when one can,” he said. “It makes the leaner times a little easier to bear.”

“Does it? I would have thought it would make those times harder to endure because one would more easily recall all one once had.”

“Such a dour eye ye set upon the world.” He laughed softly and shook his head. “Ye are one of those who prepare for the great deluge the priests speak of when it rains for several days in a row, arenae ye?”

She had to smile at his gentle teasing, and at herself, for there was some truth to his words. From the moment she was old enough to form an opinion on anything, she had always formed a solemn one. If there was a choice of fates, she had always selected the most dire. Marriage to DeVeau had not inspired her to change.

“There is no harm in being prepared for the worst, Sir Murray.”

“Nay, there isnae,” he agreed. “Howbeit, one doesnae want to see only the worst, expect only disaster and death. It can breed a darkness in the soul.”

“My Nana used to tell me that.”

“A wise woman.”

“Because she agreed with you?”

“Aye,” he said, and grinned when she giggled, but a moment later he became serious. “There is truth in what I, and your Nana, say. If one sets one's eyes only on the dark and the evil, soon 'tis all one sees, and all one expects from others. 'Tisnae a good path to be walking on.”

“I know. Truly,” she reassured him. “If I were going to turn into such a woman, I believe my marriage would have done it.”

“And it hasnae?” he asked, watching her closely as he waited for her reply. Nigel was still not sure that Gisele trusted him, and searched for some clue to tell him if she ever would.

“Not completely,” she answered, then grimaced. “I have not had much cause or time to see the good in people in these last months, or to have much hope. I have not lost the ability to recognize and enjoy beauty, however. I realized that when I saw this place. Nor have I lost the craving for peace, or the wish to trust in people again. When I am free again I believe I will cease to be such a morbid soul.”

Nigel smiled as he turned the bird on the spit so that it could cook more evenly. Gisele moved to get the two metal plates Nigel carried in his saddlepacks, as well as the bread and the wineskin. She hungered for the food he prepared, and as she sat back down she hoped she had the patience to wait for it to be properly cooked.

She had to smile when she realized she was leaning toward the fire, breathing deeply of the delicious aroma of the roasting bird. In the last few days her appetite had grown tenfold. Gisele knew it was because she was working so hard just to stay alive, to avoid capture by her enemies. Her grandmother would be pleased, she thought, and smiled a little wider.

“What has ye looking so happy?” asked Nigel as he unsheathed his dagger, cut the bird into equal parts, and handed Gisele her share.

“I was just thinking how pleased my Nana would be to see me eating like this,” Gisele replied. “She was ever putting food in front of me and trying to coax me to eat more.”

Nigel chuckled. “'Tis a common urging of one's elders. And, ye are a wee lass. I can easily see how ye would inspire such coddling and coaxing.”

Gisele was barely able to smile in response. She was too busy eating. For the next several moments eating was all she and Nigel did, pausing only to pass the wineskin back and forth. Gisele was not surprised when there was nothing left to set aside for another meal. It had been a small bird, and they had clearly been very hungry. It might not have been wise to indulge in such gluttony, but Gisele decided that it had certainly been very satisfying.

She collected the plates and took them to the small pond. Digging a shallow hole in the soft dirt, she buried the bones so that the scavengers who roamed in the night would not be attracted to their campsite. She washed off the plates, then washed her face and hands. As she put the plates back in Nigel's saddlepacks, she sensed him watching her. As she returned to her seat by the fire she felt a little uncomfortable beneath his steady gaze.

Nigel smiled inwardly when he saw how nervous Gisele was. He excused himself and sought a moment of privacy in the surrounding woods. Nervousness was something he could deal with, could soothe away with words and kisses. Outrage or anger would have shown him that he had made a serious error at the inn, but he had seen none of that. If he judged Gisele right, she was simply uncertain.

He ached to make love to her. She had been so welcoming in the morning, her passion free and hot, but he had forced himself not to take full advantage of that. From what little she had told him of her disastrous marriage, she had never been made love to, only repeatedly raped. She had never known pleasure, only pain and humiliation. He had decided that it was time she learned that a man's touch could bring her pleasure, time that a man gave her body some joy without taking anything from her. Nigel prayed he had accomplished that task as well as he thought he had, and that now her fears would be more controllable. He knew he had to be patient with Gisele, but that was growing more difficult every day as his desire for her grew, yet remained unsatisfied.

When he returned to camp he saw that she had laid out their bedding. Their beds were close, yet not quite side by side. It was not the blatant invitation he would have preferred, but it was promising. If she had decided to put a firm end to his seduction she would have returned to sleeping on the opposite side of the fire. All he had to determine was just how undecided she was.

Gisele found that she could not even look at Nigel as they settled down on their beds. She inwardly cursed her sudden onslaught of timidity. It would make matters very awkward, and that was the last thing she wanted. She kept telling herself that she was a grown woman who should be able to look Nigel in the eye and say exactly what she thought, but it only helped a little.

While Nigel had been gone she had finally come to a decision. He had shown her that passion could be pleasurable, and she wanted to know the whole of it—not just what he could give her, but what they could share. The more she had thought about the matter, the more she believed that he could indeed soothe away at least some of her fears. If just once she were held in a man's arms and knew only gentleness, passion, and pleasure, it had to soften the grip of the dark memories her husband had left her with. Gisele wanted that, wanted desperately to gain some freedom from her fears.

A small voice had tried to tell her to consider her good name, but she had easily silenced it. Even if she were proclaimed innocent of murder, her good name was already irredeemably stained. She had been on her own for a year, and now spent days and nights alone with a man who was not related to her by blood. That was not a secret any longer, and everyone who heard the tale would assume that she and Nigel were lovers, no matter how vehemently or truthfully she tried to deny it. And if that were not enough to thoroughly blacken her name, she had cut her hair and was running all over France dressed as a boy. Since everyone would believe she had committed the sin of taking a lover, she saw no reason to deny herself the pleasure of doing so.

She was not sure how to let Nigel know that she was willing to continue what they had begun that morning. She had never been wooed or seduced, and had little idea of how the game was played. The only thing she had been able to think of was placing their beds close together and hope Nigel would act upon that subtle acceptance.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Gisele turned on her side to look at Nigel. It did not really surprise her to find him looking at her. She had sensed it. She silently cursed the blush that stung her cheeks, however. She wished to proceed with a calm forthrightness. If she were going to convince Nigel that she knew exactly what she was doing and that she asked nothing more of him than a shared passion, it would help if she did not look like some red-faced child. She opened her mouth to speak, realized that she could not think of what to say, and sighed.

Nigel smiled, reached out, and gently stroked her cheek. Despite all she had been through, Gisele was still very innocent. She had obviously never learned the ways of flirtation or the art of gentle seduction. Gisele might have had her maidenhead brutally stolen by her husband, but she remained virginal in many other ways.

“The easy way, lass,” he said quietly, “would be to just edge your wee bed closer to mine.”

The way he could so unerringly guess her thoughts was very unsettling, Gisele thought. He was, however, correct in what he said. Even as she moved her bedding next to his, she had to admit that it was certainly the easiest way to say yes. She was still blushing, but at least she was not babbling like some complete fool.

“Are ye sure?” he asked as he followed the delicate lines of her face with soft kisses.

“I am here now, am I not?” She was not surprised to hear the husky unsteadiness in her voice, for his tender kisses were soothing away all uncertainty and embarrassment, replacing them with growing desire.

“True, but are ye sure why ye are here in my arms?”

“I am not trying to repay a debt or anything so foolish as that, if that is what you are thinking.”

He smiled against the smooth skin of her throat. “Calm yourself, my sweet companion.” He watched her carefully as he subtly unlaced her jupon. “Aye, I will confess that that thought winged its way through my mind, but its visit was verra brief.”

“Was it?” She tensed slightly as he began to remove her clothes, then relaxed when she realized she had reacted out of embarrassment and not fear.

“Ye are too proud, and I dinnae believe the idea would occur to you, anyway.”

She frowned, not completely sure that that was a compliment. “I am not without some wit.”