Highland Honor (9 page)

Nigel nodded, set the tray of food aside, and began to take off his boots. He had not discussed the sleeping arrangements with Gisele, and watched her closely as he prepared for bed. When she did not immediately question him, just closed her eyes, he decided he was safe. In deference to her sense of modesty, he kept his braies on. When he slid into bed beside her he felt her tense slightly, and inwardly grimaced. He was not going to win on every count.

“I willnae hurt ye, lass,” he whispered, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms.

“I know. It is not you who make me stiffen with fear. There has only been one other man who has shared my bed, and he was not welcome. It has been a long time since he touched me, but I begin to think the fear he bred in me will live longer than I do.”

“Nay. 'Tis just that ye havenae done anything to banish it yet.”

She looked at him and frowned. He was right, but she could not help but wonder why he should concern himself so much with her fears, their cause, or their strength. Gisele hoped he was not going to try to seduce her by saying he could cure her. Instinct told her that he just might be able to, but she realized she wanted him to desire her for herself, not because it would stroke his vanity to repair what another man had tried so hard to destroy.

“Lass, ye really must cease to think ill of me so quickly,” he murmured. “Ye are sorely bruising my vanity.”

Although she smiled at his nonsense, it made her a little uncomfortable that he could so easily guess her thoughts. “I was just hoping that you were not going to claim you could cure me.”

“Ah, it would disappoint you if I tried to seduce ye with that tale, would it?”

“I think it might. You would show yourself to be not as clever as I think you are.”

Nigel grinned. “Oh, aye, I am clever. Have I nay got ye alone in a room and in a soft bed?”

“And now you try to make me suspicious. It may be odd, but I assumed from the start that you meant to share this bed. It cost you dearly, of that I am sure, and I felt it only fair and reasonable that you would wish to share in its comfort. And that recalls me to a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

“Ye are about to say something that will annoy me.”

“You are a big, strong knight. I suspect you can bear that burden.” She met his narrow-eyed glance with a brief, too sweet smile. “You are paying for my rescue out of your own purse, are you not?”

“I am not a poor mon,” he said.

“It would matter naught to me if you were. I simply do not think it right that you risk your life and empty your purse. I am not poor, either. Sadly, I cannot get my hands on any of my fortune. I will pay you back, however, as soon as I can.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It is,” she said firmly. “Mayhap it is just pride. In truth, I believe that is exactly what it is. It pains me a little that I am unable to settle this matter by myself, that I must depend upon the strength of others to keep myself alive.”

He tentatively reached out and smoothed his hand over her shoulder. “Ye are just a wee lass. There is only so much ye can do on your own. Ye have done weel so far. There is no shame in recognizing that the time has come to get some help.”

She nodded. “I understand that, but pride can sometimes refuse to heed reason. Allow me this weak salve. I will pay you back all you have needed to spend to get me to Scotland.”

“As ye wish.”

Nigel decided that now was not the time to argue about that. He also understood how she felt. It had to be difficult to be so completely at the mercy of someone else's good favor, especially when one had survived so long on one's own. It carried the same bitter taste as defeat.

“Why do I have the feeling that you have not really agreed?” Gisele murmured as she closed her eyes.

“Ye worry on things too much, sweeting.” He lightly brushed a few stray curls from her forehead. “Rest. That is what ye need. Savor this moment of peace and comfort, and cease looking for troubles and conflicts.”

“I do not need to look very hard, or too far.”

“If ye keep thinking such dark thoughts ye will ne'er get the sleep ye need.”

“And you wish me to cease talking so that you can go to sleep.”

“Aye, there is that.” He grinned when she laughed softly.

“Sleep safe, Sir Murray.”

He decided that was a very good wish, and softly returned it. It would be nice to sleep safe for a change, to not have to keep one eye open. Nigel realized he had grown deeply weary of war, of fighting to stay alive. It was going to be good to be back at Donncoille, back where there were many who were willing to watch his back so that he could rest secure.

It would be good for Gisele, too, he mused as he gently slipped one arm around her. Guy was right. She would not be as safe as he had hoped for. But she would at least be able to sleep secure. He wondered only briefly if it were wrong to bring such trouble to his clan. They would be more than willing to help a woman in such desperate trouble.

Yet again he had evaded another chance to speak of home, to warn Gisele in some small way about what he had left behind. He was courting trouble there, knew that he ought to give Gisele some small hint of why he had left home, but he was a coward. Pride also stopped him. It was embarrassing to know he had fled the land and the people he loved because he wanted his brother's wife and was not sure he could trust himself to behave with honor as long as he was close to her. It was certainly not a confession that would win Gisele to his side, either.

Another reason he held silent was that if he told her the whole truth she was sure to ask questions, and he did not have any answers—none that would soothe the suspicions she was sure to have. When she did find out that he had left Scotland because he was in love with his brother's wife, and that the woman looked a lot like her, Nigel wanted to be able to look Gisele square in the eyes and truthfully swear that it was not why he wanted her. He could not do that yet. What worried him was that he might not be able to do that until he stood at the gates of Donncoille and could look from one woman to the other. And he still dreaded that moment of truth, still feared that he might never be able to say those things to Gisele.

She murmured softly in her sleep and turned toward him, huddling closer to his warmth. Nigel sighed and wrapped his arms around her. She allowed him these small embraces when she was asleep. It could be a good sign.

The way his body tautened with hunger as he held her close seemed real and honest enough—it was Gisele he saw and Gisele's name upon his lips—but the poison of uncertainty still lingered in his heart. He had never loved a woman as he had loved Maldie, and he could not be sure a man could recover from that.

Until he knew the answer to that he should leave Gisele alone, but Nigel knew he would not do that, either. He liked the feel of her in his arms, liked the taste of her, the smell of her. He wanted to be her lover, wanted to savor her passion, and he knew he would not have the strength to turn her away just because he could not understand his own heart.

There was one other solution to his problem and he inwardly grimaced, feeling the bite of shame that he would even consider it but unable to cast it aside. If he still had not explained everything to Gisele by the time they reached Donncoille, if he still had no honest idea of who held his heart in her small hands, when she saw Maldie and turned to him for an explanation he would lie. He would look her straight in the eyes and tell her whatever she needed to hear. It made him uneasy, and it was far from honorable, but it would be the kindest thing to do. In the end it could come to a choice between maintaining his sense of honor or cruelly hurting Gisele. Faced with that choice, Nigel knew which way he would go. Gisele deserved a little kindness. And if he had taken Gisele as his lover without even knowing if he could truly love her, then he deserved to pay for that.

Her dream was so nice, so sweet yet exciting, that Gisele did not want to wake up. Nigel was touching her, slowly moving his big, strong hands over her body, and there was no fear, only passion. She knew this was how it was supposed to be, and did not want dark memory to spoil it. Soft lips touched hers, and she clung tightly to the man who held her in his arms. Just once she wanted to taste what the minstrels all sang about.

“Gisele,” Nigel whispered against the soft skin of her neck, “look at me.”

“
Non
.” She shuddered beneath his touch as he lightly stroked her breast.

“Come, lass, look at me. I want ye to ken who is touching you.”

She closed her eyes even tighter and shook her head. “Can you not leave me in the dream?”

“Nay, for that is a lie.”

“It is a nice lie.” The warmth of his breath caressed her as he laughed against her shoulder.

She slowly opened her eyes. It made her a little uncomfortable to look at the man while he was touching her so intimately, and she wondered why he insisted that she do so. She had been letting him have his way. It seemed to her that it would have been wiser to just let it happen, to not disturb the moment in any way.

“I knew it was you,” she said, surprised at how soft and husky her voice was.

“For the moment. Before, with your eyes closed, your thoughts went their own way, slipping into the past and resurrecting all your fears.”

“Opening my eyes could resurrect my sense of modesty.”

“At least that would be a refusal of me, and not of your ghosts.”

Gisele gasped softly as he slid his hands down her back and then pressed her closer. She did not really feel inclined to refuse him, even though she knew honor and modesty demanded it of her. What he said made an odd kind of sense, but she knew it was going to be a struggle to keep her eyes open. With each new feeling that sped through her body she felt compelled to close her eyes, as if by doing so she could savor those feelings more fully.

It surprised her when she moved her body against his, silently asking for something she had thought she would never wish to endure again. She shyly moved her hands over his back, enjoying the feel of hard muscle and smooth skin. Nigel did not remove his braies, however. He made no move at all to try to complete their feverish lovemaking.

Nigel slid his hand up between her thighs, and Gisele cried out in a mixture of shock and delight. He took swift advantage of her parted lips and kissed her. A small voice told her she should be outraged that this man would touch her so intimately, but she ignored it, opening to his touch even as she greedily returned his kiss. She did not understand what he was doing to her, but she liked it too much to turn away from it.

He kissed the hardened tip of her breast, then gently sucked through the thin linen of the shirt she still wore. All the while he continued to stroke her. Gisele kept trying to wrap her body around his, but he still made no attempt to join their bodies. He just kept kissing her and stroking her. She was almost ready to speak, to risk ruining the moment by breaking the silence, when she was suddenly robbed of the wit and the ability to say anything.

Fierce, blinding feelings tore through her body, and she cried out Nigel's name. He replied with a hungry kiss, holding her tightly as her body shuddered. It was a long time before Gisele regained her senses, and then she swiftly began to feel both confused and embarrassed. Nigel still lightly caressed her. She briefly considered breaking free of his hold, then realized that his touch calmed her, soothed away her beginning sense of humiliation.

“What did you just do?” she whispered, hiding her face against his shoulder as she spoke. “In truth, you did not just do anything.
Non
, I mean you have not—”

Nigel smiled faintly. “This was for you.”

Gisele did not understand, and she hated that more than she hated being embarrassed. She had been told that she had an unbecoming greed for knowledge for a woman, wanting to know all about things men felt she had no right or need to know. Her refusal to remain ignorant had only been hardened by her marriage. She truly believed that if she had known more about what could happen between a man and a woman, what was right and what was wrong, she might have been able to save herself some pain. She would have at least been able to better articulate her problems with the man her family had given her to.

She slowly looked at Nigel, lightly biting her bottom lip as she struggled with her words. Her hesitation to ask him the questions pounding in her mind surprised her. She realized that she dreaded hearing Nigel's disapproval of her intense curiosity, and she grew annoyed with herself.

His face was taut, a light flush accentuating the lines of his high cheekbones. Gisele recognized the signs of a man infected with a strong passion. It was something she had learned to watch for in her husband so that she could slip away and hide before he turned to her. She was rather pleased that the look on Nigel's face did not frighten her. She realized that his expression lacked that hint of viciousness that had always tainted her husband's look. It also made her all the more curious about why Nigel had done nothing to sate that desire.

“I do not understand,” she said.

“And that troubles ye, doesnae it?” He could not help but smile at the look of irritation that flickered over her still flushed face.

“
Oui
. You told me you would seduce me and you just did, yet you did not complete the act. I believe there was no confusion about my willingness, yet you held yourself back. That confuses me. Is this some game?”

“Such a suspicious mind.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “No game. Did ye e'er once lie with a mon who didnae hurt ye when he took what he needed?”

“I have only bedded down with one man in my life, my husband, and the answer is no. You guessed that. You saw my fear. It is plain that I am free of those fears now.”

He shrugged. “Mayhap. Lass, I just thought it might help if, just once before we truly became lovers, ye learned what ye can feel. Aye, ye were willing, but how swiftly would that have faded once I settled my body on yours? Is that nay when the worst of the pain was inflicted?”

She blushed, but before she could respond a loud banging sounded at the door. Nigel cursed and rapidly got to his feet. He grabbed his sword and strode to the door. Gisele moved quickly to don her clothes.

“Who goes there?” Nigel demanded.

“It is David,” called the man on the other side of the thick door. “Let me in.”

“Ye pick an ill time to come aknocking. Come back later.”

“If I come back later it may be just to bury you.”

Nigel hastily opened the door, scowling at David as the young man strode in. “What do ye mean?”

“The DeVeaux will soon be kicking down your door.”

“They are here?” Nigel began to dress.

“Just outside of the village. Some fool in the inn must have realized who you are and sought them out. I was afraid of this. The greed of men could become your deadliest enemy.” He looked at Gisele as a cursing Nigel finished dressing. “Are you well, cousin?”

Gisele knew what stirred David's concern. The way he kept scowling at Nigel told her who he was ready to blame if she claimed any injury or upset. His concern was too little, too late, she thought crossly. Her innocence had been ripped away a long time ago, and no one had listened to her cries.

“I am fine,” she replied a little curtly, unable to hide all of her anger.

“I just wondered—”

“Well, you may cease your wondering. None of this is your concern. I think the fact that my enemies have sniffed me out again is of more importance.”

David blushed slightly and nodded. “Your mounts are saddled and ready.”

“Good lad,” Nigel murmured as he flung their saddlepacks over his shoulder. “I think ye should leave this place, as weel.”

“I intend to. My horse is also ready. I do not wish to be found by the DeVeaux.” He kissed Gisele on the cheek. “Take care, cousin. I swear on what little honor I have left that I will find the ones who killed your husband and free you of this horror.”

She barely had time to thank him before Nigel was hurrying her out of the room. The sun was only beginning to rise, and the dim light it shed made the badly rutted road they rushed along somewhat treacherous. Gisele stumbled several times, but Nigel quickly steadied her and pulled her after him as he nearly ran for the stables.

“David has not followed us,” she said even as Nigel tossed her up into her saddle and threw her saddlepack across the saddle in front of her.

“Clever lad.” Nigel secured his saddlepack, mounted, and rode out of the stables.

“How is that clever? Should he not be fleeing this village as fast as we are?”

“Aye, but nay at the same time and nay in the same direction.”

Nigel spit out a vicious curse and slapped her horse on the rump, startling the animal into a gallop. A heartbeat later she heard a cry go up on her right, and she knew they had been seen. The moment Nigel moved in front of her, Gisele set all of her attention on following him as closely as she could. She did not need to look behind them to know that her enemies were close at hand. She could hear them nipping at her heels.

This time they could have been trapped in the inn if David had not warned them. It was as if her enemies returned more fiercely and got even closer to her each time she escaped. Gisele was deeply afraid, terrified that her luck was rapidly running out. And it was clear that Nigel's ability to sense danger could fail him miserably at times.

It was nearly high noon before they had a chance to stop long enough to dismount and water the horses. Gisele dampened a small rag with water and wiped her face, then held the cloth against her throat as she tried to cool herself. Summer was drawing nigh, and it was growing too warm to do so much hard riding. She hoped the men chasing them were as uncomfortable as she was. It would be a small, welcome justice.

“We will shake them soon, lass,” Nigel reassured her.

“Will we? DeVeaux or those seeking to earn their coin seem to be awaiting us at every turn.” She sighed. “We shall need an army to get to the port.”

“Nay, just cunning.”

Gisele looked at him, wondering idly if the heat was beginning to affect his wits. “I know that it is oftimes said that cunning can be sharp, but I do not think it will serve to cut a path through our enemies.”

Nigel laughed softly and handed her a large piece of bread. “Gnaw on this, lass. 'Twill take the bite of hunger away, and may soften the bite of your tongue. Now, we both ken that we arenae strong enough to stand and fight. There are too many men thrashing about looking for you. So, we must use all of our wits to elude them.” He leaned against a tree on Gisele's right, took a long drink from the wineskin, and then handed it to her.

“I know that our only true choice is to run.” She helped herself to a long, satisfying drink of wine. “It just holds the stink of cowardice at times.”

“Ye have heeded too many tales of grand valor, the ones where the knight faces thrice his number and dies rather than turn and hie for the safety of the hills.”

She did not need to ask what Nigel thought of those tales The scorn weighting his deep voice made it very clear. “You do not think that such acts reveal great bravery?”

“Only if the mon has no other choice. If he is cornered with no place to turn, then, aye, 'tis brave to stand tall, sword in hand, and make those who would take your life pay dearly for it. Far better than cowering and begging for one's life. But if there is a choice, a way to escape sure death, then he is a fool to nay grab it and live to fight another day.” He smiled and shrugged. “What purpose is served? Ye are dead and your enemies may ride away and continue whatever evil they wish to, and your family and friends have one less skilled fighter to protect them. Ye just give the minstrels something new to sing about.”

After staring at him for a moment, Gisele laughed. “You have a true skill at cutting to the heart of nonsense.”

“Nay always, sweeting. I used to listen to the tales and think it all so glorious. Then I faced such a choice and thought, nay, this is madness. In truth, 'tis much akin to suicide. I took myself to a place where I could face my enemies on a more equal footing and give them a real fight, nay just a moment's sport. And that is what we do now.”

“And it is most reasonable. I just grow weary, and feel a need to bemoan my fate.”

“That is easy to understand. I am sorry, but we must be on our way again.”

“Allow me but a few moments to seek some privacy,” she said, pleased that she no longer blushed when she asked for such a privilege.

“Be quick, lass. I dinnae like to linger in one place for too long when our enemies are so close at hand.”

Gisele nodded and trotted away into the trees. She did not need Nigel to tell her to hurry. The fact that they had to flee the village at dawn and had been closely followed all morning made her very aware of the danger they faced. Despite her brave talk of standing and fighting, she did not really want to face the DeVeaux, and she certainly did not want to do so without Nigel at her side. She talked boldly, Gisele mused with a grimace of self-disgust, but she did not have the stomach to honor her own words.

As she straightened her clothes and prepared herself to return to Nigel, Gisele suddenly tensed. She was sure she had heard something, but could see nothing. Her heart pounding so hard and fast it was painful, Gisele spun around and found herself facing a very large, hairy man, his colors proclaiming him a DeVeau. Even as she turned to run she knew it was too late to save herself. She cried out in pain and fear as the man grabbed her and threw her to the ground. She stared up at him, praying he was the only one so that she might still have a chance to save herself.