Highland Honor (7 page)

“I ask your pardon, Sir Murray,” she said quietly as she accepted the wineskin he held out to her and took a small drink, a little dismayed at how nearly empty it was. “I am tired, and am in an ill temper.”

“That is easy to understand, lass.”

“It may be, but you do not deserve the sharp edge of my tongue. It is not your fault that I ache and am enduring a miserable ride across France. I but search for someone to pay for this unjust discomfort I am suffering, and there is no one. The man who set me on this much cursed path is dead, and beyond the reach of my curses.”

He patted her shoulder in a brief gesture of sympathy. “If justice has been served, lass, your husband is suffering dearly, enduring far more torment and torture than ye could e'er mete out.”

“Do not be so certain. I can mete out a great deal.” She weakly returned his grin.

“'Twill soon be over.”

“Will it, or will I simply be further away than I have been before now?” She sighed and held up her hand when he started to speak. “Do not trouble yourself to try to soothe my ill humor. That is all it is, an ill humor brought on because I am tired and cannot have what I want.”

“And what do ye want, Gisele?” Nigel asked softly.

“I want to go home.” She grimaced. “
Merde
, I sound like a small child, but there is the truth of it. I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own warm, soft bed, bathe whenever the mood overcomes me, and eat whatever and whenever I want. I want to have no more reason to feel sorry for myself. And, for all of my complaining, I do recall that you suffer the same as I. I want that to stop, too. You deserve this no more than I do.”

“But I am hardened to these discomforts, and ye arenae. I should try harder to remember that.”

“
Non
, do not change what you are doing and must continue to do to keep us alive,” she said firmly. “For it
is
us now, not just me. The DeVeaux are hunting me, but they would kill you without hesitation, either because you stood in their way or because you have helped me. I cannot swear that I will not again whimper over my pains or feel sorry for myself, but you must pay it no heed. Running for one's life is much exhausting, and I do not often behave well or with any wit when I am so tired.”

“Few of us do, lass. Ye can rest this night, for we have lost that pack of dogs.”

“How can you be so certain? They found us, and I would never have believed they would.”

Nigel shrugged. “I dinnae have a good answer for how they found us. They were lucky, and we were unlucky. It may be no more than that. I didnae hide our trail weel. I sought distance o'er secrecy. Now I will pay more heed to secrecy.” He smiled gently when she hastily raised a hand to cover a wide yawn. “Rest, wee Gisele. It has been a long day.”

She sprawled on her bedding and weakly wrapped herself up in her thin blanket. “And there are many more long days ahead, are there not, Sir Murray?”

“Some, aye,” he replied as he settled down on his bed. “'Tis getting into and out of a port that will prove the hardest.”

Gisele cursed softly. “Of course. The DeVeaux will have them all watched much closely.”

“Verra closely.”

“Pardon?”

“Not much closely, verra closely.”

“This English is not an easy language.”

“Ye speak it verra weel, far better than I can speak your language. Who taught it to you?”

“My
grandmére
. She was from Wales.” Gisele lightly touched the amulet she wore.

“That explains the odd lilt to your words. Ye have the hint of the French to your words, but I did puzzle o'er that other note I could hear.” He looked at the ornate medallion she idly stroked. “She gave you that?”

“
Oui
. She said the entwined circles of silver were formed by her father's father, or even the father before that. She was not completely sure. The seven garnets mark the seven sons he was blessed with.
Grandmére
said it would bring me good fortune.”

“I think it has. Ye have survived a year despite being hunted down by a verra powerful and verra rich clan. There is good fortune many would envy.”

“Then I pray it continues to bless us,” she murmured and closed her eyes, unable to keep them open a moment longer. “If you have any more questions to ask of me, Sir Murray, I fear they must wait until the morrow.”

Nigel laughed softly when she almost immediately fell asleep, then grew solemn as he lightly brushed a dusting of dirt from her soft cheek. She was a strong little woman, enduring a lot, but he was not sure how much more she could tolerate. There was little choice, however. He hated to see her so weary and sore, but he did not wish to see her die, either, and that was the fate awaiting her if the DeVeaux caught up with them. As he closed his eyes and welcomed a much needed sleep, he swore that he would gift her with every comfort as soon as they reached Scotland. He also swore that he would do what her own family seemed incapable of or unwilling to do—free her from the DeVeaux's blind and unending thirst for revenge.

“Are you certain this is wise?” Gisele asked as she and Nigel paused on a hillside and looked down on the village below.

She was still sore from their daylong flight from the DeVeaux, one night of rest not enough to fully replenish her strength. Fear also held her back. Her enemies had drawn very close to her and Nigel yesterday. She did not wish to give them another chance to catch her, and entering a busy village seemed to promise to do just that. Gisele was not sure they had any choice, however.

“We need supplies, lass,” Nigel said. “'Tis the wrong time of the year to glean all we need from the land.”

“I know, and in the last few years there has not been much left to glean, anyway. The soldiers take it all.”

Nigel sighed and nodded as he led them down the hill. “The army can be verra greedy. I have seen the men take all a land has to offer, leaving nothing for the poor souls who live there. It is one of the sadder consequences of war.”

“And this country has been scarred by war time and time and time again. It is unending.” She shook her head. “I do not understand why it continues, although men always have a ready answer, speaking boldly of honor, bravery, rightful kings, and on and on. My grandmother once said that men are more easily offended than some withered, old, too pious nun with the bile.”

For one long moment Nigel struggled to look at her sternly. The woman should not speak so insultingly about men. It could cause her a great deal of trouble. Men did not take kindly to such ridicule. Then he laughed, almost able to hear the old woman's sharp voice.

“Aye, lass,” he said, as he shared a smile with her, “sometimes it does seem exactly like that.” He grew serious as he reined to a halt before the stables at the edge of the village. “'Tis a shame that men tend to kill people when they are in the midst of a dark pout. In my land it becomes a feud that is passed from son to son and becomes a bloody heritage.”

“Did your family suffer from such a tragedy?”

“Almost, but the truth was revealed and the bloodletting ceased.”

Before she could ask him any more he dismounted and moved to speak to the stabler. Gisele felt uneasy, but when Nigel signaled her to dismount she did so without question. She had to trust someone at some time. Nigel seemed to be a good choice to start with. It did make her nervous to leave their horses in the hands of a stranger, however. That could make a swift escape a little difficult.

“Dinnae look so fearful, lass,” Nigel said quietly as he took her by the arm and led her into town. “I cannae promise that we are completely safe, but I dinnae have any feeling that danger lurks around the next corner.”

“You do not smell any enemies?” She tried to walk like a boy but some of the sharp looks she got told her that she might not be succeeding.

“Nay, I dinnae smell anything. Lass, the horses need to be reshod. They may last a day or all the way to Donncoille, my family's keep in Scotland, but we could also have one of our mounts begin limping but a mile outside of the village.”

“They are that worn?”

“Aye, they are.”

“Then they must be tended to. Lingering here may be dangerous, but trying to flee the DeVeaux on a lame horse would be more so.” She looked around. “It appears to be a prosperous village, as yet unscarred by this newest war, so we should be able to find all we need.” She frowned as he moved toward a tiny bakery. “Do you want me to talk to the merchants?”

“I can speak the language.”

“I know, but you have confessed that you find it difficult to speak it in a way all can understand and that you often find it difficult to catch every word when we speak quickly.”

“All of that is true, but I would feel better if I did it. Ye may look like a lad if one but peeks quickly, but I dinnae think ye will pass a verra close study.” He smiled faintly. “We rough-speaking Scots arenae such a strange sight any longer. Wait here, lass, and dinnae speak to anyone.”

Gisele muttered a curse, but she did as she was ordered to. Even with her cap on she had begun to realize that her disguise was not as good as she had thought it was. Lurking silently in the shadows was probably the safest thing for her to do. She was beginning to think there was no way she could truly hide. As a woman she had been easily seen and easily remembered. She was not really having any better luck as a boy. There did not seem to be any other choices, however, except hiding deep in a cave until someone proved her innocence or the DeVeaux forgot about her and found someone else to torment. Gisele did not believe either would happen. She could not survive in a cave without some help, and the DeVeaux were well known to have very long memories.

A young man stepped out of the inn across the badly rutted road and abruptly captured all of Gisele's wandering attention. She tensed, torn between hope and fear. There was no mistaking her slender, almost beautiful, cousin David. What she was not sure of was whether or not she should approach him. He had not rushed to her defense when her troubles had begun, but she could not believe that he would hand her over to the DeVeaux, either. When he started to walk away, she impulsively hurried over to him, catching up to him just outside of a small, dark alley.

“Here, boy, what game do you play?” David demanded when Gisele shoved him into the alley.

“David, it is your cousin, Gisele.” She yanked off her cap and ruffled her curls. “Do you not remember me, cousin?”

She waited, standing stiffly before him as he stared at her. Suddenly, he gaped and grabbed her by the shoulders. After a long moment of silence, Gisele shifted on her feet and tugged free of his hold.

“Are you completely mad?” he said, his voice hoarse and softened by shock.

“I was beginning to fear that you were. You were staring at me as if I were some vision you were ill-pleased to see,” she grumbled as she tugged her cap back on.

“What have you done to your hair, and why are you dressed like that?”

“I never thought you lacking in wit, cousin. I am trying to look like a boy.” She glared at him when a look of pure derision settled on his beautiful face. “These clothes belonged to Guy's page.”

“I am not surprised that fool Guy is behind this madness.” He paced back and forth for a moment before facing her again. “You nearly got Guy killed.”

“Ah, so you have spoken to our sweet-tongued cousin, Maigrat.”

David grinned briefly, then frowned, dragging his long fingers through his thick black hair. “She has no great love for you, that is true enough. She does not like people who speak their minds as sharply as she does, especially if what they say disputes her truths.”

“I may have disagreed with her a time or two,” she said, ignoring the mocking sound he made, “but that is not reason enough to decry me as a murderer, or believe that I would do anything that would hurt Guy.”

David put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a brief hug. “I found it hard to believe that you would hurt Guy, and he was most adamant in his support of you.”

“He is well?”

“Almost healed enough to walk out of Maigrat's
demanse
, just as he threatens to every day.”

Gisele laughed and then watched David closely as she said, “Guy was one of the few people who believed in my innocence.”

He blushed and took a step back. “I wish I could deny that, but I fear you speak the ugly truth. The only defense we all have, and it is a very weak one, is that you had made your loathing of the man evident to anyone who would listen to you, and you often threatened him with some heinous punishments. There is no pardon for us. You should never have been given to him. We were blinded by power and wealth, I think. No one of such a high standing had ever joined our family before, and we hungered for it.”

“You keep saying we and us. Do you speak for the others?”

“Most of them. A few, like Maigrat, have their own reasons to refuse to change their minds, and I fear that refusal has more to do with their dislike of you than the truth.” David watched her a little warily as he said, “You can be curt, Gisele, and are cursed with a sharp, bitter tongue that can stir some people's anger and dislike.”

“They are but humorless, and I have no need of them. Is my family going to help me now?” She waited tensely for his reply, knowing she had let her hopes spring to life and afraid that they were about to be crushed again.

“We have already begun to try to find the truth,” he replied then returned her impulsive hug. “We have also been trying to find you. You must come with me now. You can no longer be allowed to run about France alone and unprotected.”

“Alone?” Gisele frowned as she moved away from him. “Did Guy tell you that I was alone?”

“He said something about a Scotsman, a knight who survived by selling his sword. He has obviously deserted you. One can expect little else from a man of his ilk.”

“No, Nigel would not desert me.” Gisele felt as surprised by her sharp defense of Nigel as David looked. “He is gathering some fresh supplies and having our horses tended to.”

“You are still with the man? That will not do, cousin. You cannot travel alone with a man, especially one no one knows. I will pay this man his fee and send him on his way.”

Gisele stared at her cousin, eager to tell him that he was a complete idiot, but knowing that this was not the time for an argument. Here was a trouble she had not foreseen, and she cursed her blindness. Men were always eager to defend their women against the sinful thoughts and inclinations of other men, and since he had done nothing to protect her from her brutal husband guilt could easily make David very hard to turn aside. Nigel would soon be looking for her, and Gisele was sure her cousin would not be greeting Nigel cordially when he met him. Gisele lightly chewed on her bottom lip and wondered how she could pull Nigel out of the confrontation she had unthinkingly thrust him into.

 

Nigel stepped out of the baker's too warm shop, took a deep breath of the cool outside air, and immediately knew that something was wrong. He felt the first stirrings of panic when he could not see Gisele where he had left her. His hand on his sword, he began to search the small village. He stopped and stared when he found her just inside a narrow, shadowed alley not far from the inn.

The young man she stood with presented no clear threat, yet Nigel disliked him immediately. He inwardly grimaced, ruefully admitting, that some of that dislike was born of jealousy. The youth was tall, lean, dark-haired, and dark-eyed, and even Nigel could recognize his beauty. None of that diminished the danger Gisele could be putting herself in, however. Her safety depended heavily on her remaining hidden. When Nigel heard the youth say he would pay him and send him on his way, dismissing him like the basest of mercenaries, he stepped forward.

“Keep your wee purse tied to your belt, laddie,” Nigel said as he stood next to Gisele. “I ask no coin for protecting the lass.”

Gisele looked from Nigel to David and inwardly cursed. Both men were tense, their expressions ones of cold anger, and their hands resting on their swords. One wrong word or step, and she would have to watch her protector and her cousin try to cut each other down. Men, she decided, were very odd creatures, and even these two had to know that no one would gain from such a confrontation, least of all her, the one they both claimed they wanted to protect.

“Nigel,” she placed a hand on his arm, “this is my cousin, Sir David Lucette. David, this is Sir Nigel Murray, the man who has gallantly offered to protect me from my enemies.”

“Aye, doing what her kinsmen dared not,” Nigel said, then grunted softly when Gisele nudged him hard in the side.

“Her family can care for her now,” David said in halting English, easing his taut stance only slightly when he saw how Gisele was glaring at him.

“Ye have ignored her peril for nearly a year,” Nigel responded in a cold voice. “Ye left her alone to fight her enemies and try to prove her innocence. And now ye want me to cast aside my pledge and just leave her in your inept care? Nay, I think not.”

“This is a woman of good birth and honorable name. She cannot ride over the land alone, with a man not related to her by blood.”

Before Nigel could respond to that, Gisele cursed and placed herself directly between David and Nigel. “Must you behave like ill-weaned children fighting over a toy?”

“Ah, lass,” Nigel said, placing his hand over his heart, “ye wound me. Ye should have more care for a mon's pride.”

Gisele ignored his foolishness. It had not taken her long to see that Nigel could be almost nonsensical at the oddest of times. The look on her cousin's face, however, told her that he was completely confused. Gisele idly wondered if that was why Nigel did it. A confused foe was probably easier to defeat.

“Cousin,” she said in what she hoped was a calm but firm voice, “Sir Murray has sworn upon his honor to be my protector.”

“Gisele, I understand that we have failed you,” David said in French as he took Gisele's hands between his. “We have insulted you with our suspicions and disbelief. It is all different now. Let us care for you.”

Nigel tensed. He found it hard to closely follow the youth's rapid French, but understood enough to know that David was trying a gentle persuasion to take Gisele away. There was not much he could do if she decided to return to her family, to accept their belated offer of help. He could not even be sure if his protests would be born of an honest belief that she was safer with him, or out of a fear of losing her.

It was hard but Gisele stared into her cousin's beautiful, beseeching eyes and knew she would say no. She just wished she knew all the reasons why she was about to turn her back on the chance to reunite with her family. They had hurt her with their betrayal, but here was a chance to heal those wounds and she was going to refuse it. Gisele had the unsettling feeling that, muddled up with all of the very good reasons to stay with Nigel, was simply a strong reluctance to leave him. She prayed she was not about to make a serious misstep just for the sake of a handsome face and sweet kisses.