Highland Honor (23 page)

“Are you certain he did not send you here?” Gisele asked, yanking her hand free. Maldie's words stirred a flicker of hope in her heart, and she wanted nothing to do with that.

“Aye, verra sure. I am the woman ye think he wants. I just felt I should come and speak about this. I may not be the whole problem, and I am certainly not to blame for the pain that fool has caused you, but I am a small part of this mess.”

“I am sorry,” Gisele muttered, dragging her fingers through her hair. “It was rude to imply that you were lying. Very rude.”

“I ken that ye are nay of a mind to listen to this, but heed me for a moment. Take my words into your mind and heart and let them rest there, think on them now and again. What Nigel has done seems cruel beyond words, but I swear to you that the mon isnae a cruel mon. This was done out of ignorance, his own confusion, and cowardice.”

“Nigel is no coward.” She was astonished at how quickly she leapt to his defense, and was not sure she liked the soft, fleeting smile that crossed Maldie's face.

“When it comes to matters of the heart, every mon can find the hint of cowardice in his soul. Ye easily guessed who I was and what it all meant, that ye may have been no more than the living embodiment of a ghost he tried to cling to. Do ye not think he saw that, too, that mayhap he wondered on it himself? That perhaps he questioned every feeling he had? That it was the last thing he wished to confess to?”

“He should have told me, warned me in some way. He should have at least given me the truth ere he bedded me.”

“Ye will get no argument about that. He deserves a good flogging. All I ask is that ye listen and watch for a while. Ye love him, and I willnae believe ye if ye try to deny it. At least see if there is any way ye can forgive this hurt he has inflicted. If ye cannae, weel, that is the end of it. Howbeit, although ye may think ye have been the greatest of fools I think ye will be an even greater one if ye dinnae stay a wee while and see what he does next.”

Maldie stood up and, smiling faintly, reached out to lightly ruffle Gisele's curls. “'Tis much like my son's hair. Rest, Gisele. Get your strength back, weep, curse the mon for the pretty fool that he is, and get all of that anger out of your heart. Ye will need a clear head in the next few days. And think on this,” she added as she paused in the doorway, “sometimes a fool holds onto a belief for so long he cannae see that it is no longer the truth. 'Tis nay longer a belief or a dream, just a habit.”

Maldie smiled to herself as she slipped out into the hall and quietly shut the door behind her. Then she squeaked in surprise when a deep, familiar voice said, “Ye have been interfering, havenae ye, sweeting?”

“Well, aye, a wee bit,” she said, as Balfour pulled her away from the door.

“This is Nigel's problem.”

“I ken it, and I also ken that he is the only one who can truly mend it. Howbeit, I am a small part of this. I am also the only woman she can speak to aside from the maids. I just felt I needed to say something. She loves him.”

“Are ye sure?”

“Oh, aye, verra sure. Nigel has deeply wounded her, but he hasnae killed her feelings for him. If he is wise and she is able to forgive, I think they will be all right.”

 

Gisele cursed and flopped back down onto the bed. Forgive, Maldie had said. That was not going to be easy. Nigel had lied to her, perhaps not in words, but in his heart. He knew her better than anyone. She had told him some of her darkest secrets, ones she had not even had the courage to tell her family. He had to have guessed how seeing Maldie would affect her, yet he had done nothing to soften the blow. That was not going to be easy to forgive.

Maldie was right, though. She did love him, still loved him, even though he had hurt her more than anyone had in a very long time. Michael had hurt her pride and her body, humiliated her, and made her afraid. Her family had betrayed her and made her feel alone, unwanted. Nigel had torn the heart right out of her. Yet, there, right beside all of the pain she was suffering, lingered love. Gisele was not sure that was wise. How many times did she have to be struck down before she decided loving him gave her more pain than happiness?

And what about pride, she thought with a hint of anger. Was she expected to swallow that for the sake of love? She was the one who had been wronged. She was also not the one who was confused about what she did or did not feel, or for whom. It seemed unfair that she should now be expected to show a readiness to forgive and listen.

But she would, she admitted with a sigh. At least for a little while. Maldie was right. She would be a fool if she did not at least linger at Donncoill long enough to listen. There was always the small chance that he would say all she needed to hear, that he would find the words to soothe the pain he had inflicted, and her love for him made her want to take that chance. Gisele prayed that she would be able to forgive him enough so that she did not think every word out of his mouth was a lie.

 

Nigel stared at the door to Gisele's bedchamber. He already missed her, and that feeling was sharpened by the fear that he would never hold her in his arms again. Uncertainty gnawed at him. He was willing to bare his soul, but would she be willing to listen?

“I dinnae think it would be wise to see her tonight,” Eric said as he grasped Nigel by the arm and tugged him down the hall to the room they would share.

“Nay, probably not. Yet, I fear that if I wait her anger will harden.”

“Then ye shall have to think of all the right words to soften it.”

“I ken that ye all believe I can talk any woman into softening toward me, but Gisele isnae just any woman.”

“Nay, I could see that e'en though my meeting with her was verra brief, and not verra pleasant.”

Once in the room he would share with Eric for a while, Nigel sprawled on the bed. “Well, this woman may ne'er give me a chance to say what I need to say. And, considering how poorly she has been treated by others in the last year, even if she does agree to listen to me she may not be willing to believe a word I say.”

“Then ye will have to keep saying it until she does,” Eric said, his voice muffled as he tugged off his jupon.

“Repeating myself will add the appropriate ring of truth, will it?”

“It might,” Eric replied, ignoring Nigel's sarcasm.

“I eagerly await the day ye find yourself in love with a lass.”

Eric smiled faintly as he slipped beneath the covers. “With ye and Balfour as my examples, I pray I have the sense to learn from your many mistakes.” He laughed when Nigel lightly swatted him on the arm.

“Ye may be the cleverest lad that has e'er lived behind these walls, but believe me when I tell ye a mon's wits can turn to mud when a lass touches his heart.” Nigel stood up and began to remove his clothes. “I should have kenned better, but I didnae. Despite all of my experience, I stepped wrong in every way possible.”

“Ye must not worry so,” Eric murmured as Nigel slid into bed. “'Tis nay over yet.”

“Ye didnae see the look in her eyes, laddie, not the way I did. I have seen it but once before, and it chilled me then. I was able to pull her out of the dark mood she had fallen into, but that time I wasnae the one who had caused it. This time her pain is all of my doing. Who is there to pull her out of it now?”

“We will, and ye will. Ye love her, and I have the feeling that, if she doesnae love ye now, she is verra close to doing so. Just speak from your heart.”

Nigel sighed as he stared up at the ceiling above the bed. Eric made it all sound so easy, but he could not share the boy's confidence. He would tell Gisele the truth and he would certainly be speaking from the heart, but he would not blame her one little bit if she spat upon both and walked away.

It was hard, but Gisele bit back a smile as she watched Nigel approach her where she sat near the kitchen gardens. For two weeks he had wooed her, and she had let him. The morning after she had been so devastated he had forced her to sit still and told her everything, from how he had come to believe himself in love with Maldie to why he had left Donncoill despite his family's protestations. He had readily confessed his doubts about why he wanted her, even why he had been so adamant about helping her. He had also apologized for not telling her all of this sooner. She found that she could actually understand how he could remain uncertain until he had finally seen Maldie again for the first time in seven long years.

She had forced herself to remain aloof, however, for the first week. She had not wanted to allow her need to believe him lead her astray or make her give him her trust, only to have it abused again. He was so earnest in his wooing, so sweet and attentive, that she had begun to weaken. Surely a man could not work so hard to win her if he did not care about her?

That hint of uncertainty was the only shadow on her happiness. Nigel wooed her, spoke of how he admired her in many ways, but he never spoke of love. The few tender kisses he had stolen told her that the passion they shared was still strong, but that was no longer enough. The hurt she had suffered when she had thought he had just used her showed her that she could not simply be his lover and hope to remain a sweet, pleasant memory in his mind. She needed more. She needed love, marriage, children, and all the rest. She did not want to be just a memory. She wanted to be his life.

“I see ye have come out to enjoy the sun,” Nigel said as he sat down next to her on a low stone bench.

“I quickly learned that you were right. This land is not blessed with many sun-filled days, and one should take full advantage of them when they do arrive.”

He put his arm around her and gently kissed her cheek, before touching the cloth she held in her hands. “Needlework?”

“You need not sound so surprised. Are not all ladies taught how to ply a needle?”

“Aye, and no need to bristle. I meant no offense. I guess I too quickly grew accustomed to seeing ye with a sword in your wee hands.”

She smiled and nodded. “I rather miss our lessons.”

“There is no reason why they cannae continue.”

“Not yet,” she murmured. “I believe I should be here a little longer before I completely shock your people.”

Nigel smiled, but said nothing. He ached to speak of marriage, but knew it was too soon. She had only just begun to soften to him. It was difficult to hold back, however. He wanted more than a few chaste kisses. He wanted her back in his bed. He also wanted to know that she would not be leaving it again.

There was one other reason to hesitate. The day after he arrived he had sent word to her family with one of his fastest men. Nigel was sure that Gisele would be more open to the idea of marriage if she knew she did not have a death sentence hanging over her head any more. He had asked for word on how close they were to proving her innocence, as well as permission to make her his wife. The first he was very interested in. The second he did not care about, except that it might please Gisele. If she would have him, he would marry her whether her family approved or not.

For as long as he could, Nigel sat with Gisele, holding her small hand in his and stealing the occasional gentle kiss, before he excused himself with the claim that he had work to do. His whole body ached from wanting her, but he did not dare to reveal that hunger. Gisele needed to see that he wanted her for more than the passion they could share. Nigel cursed as he walked to the well, drew up a bucket of cold water, and poured it over his head. He had not thought that wooing Gisele would be so difficult. As he shook the water from his hair he heard someone laugh, and turned to see his brother Balfour standing behind him.

“Finding the wooing a wee bit hard to bear, are ye?” Balfour asked, grinning widely.

“I am nay doing this for your amusement,” Nigel drawled, leaning against the stone side of the well.

“I ken it, but it serves that purpose well enough. Your wooing appears to be going smoothly, though.”

“Aye, smoothly enough. Gisele is nay longer looking at me as if she wished I would fall into some deep pit, preferably one that led straight to hell. I am just nay sure how far she and I have come in this last fortnight.”

“How far did ye wish to have come by now?”

“Far enough so that I didnae have to be here soaking my head to cool the fever in my blood.”

Balfour laughed, draped his arm around Nigel's shoulders, and started to walk them back to the keep. “Mayhap 'tis time to speak of more than how fine the weather is, or how bonny she looks.”

Nigel nodded. “It may be, but I was hoping to see a wee bit more softness from her, some clear hint that my love words would be welcomed.” He held up his hand when Balfour began to speak. “I ken what ye are about to say. I must speak first and hope for the best. I ken it. I am but a coward. I will let that rule me for nay longer than a day or two more. And then, cowardice be cursed to hell, I will speak.”

 

Gisele smiled sweetly at young Eric, but the moment he left her alone in the garden she felt her whole body slump with weariness. Pretense was exhausting, she mused. She was trying so hard to remain pleasant and appear untroubled when her mind was so crowded with unanswered questions and doubts that her head was beginning to throb.

Nigel had suddenly become more intense in his wooing, his kisses less chaste and his words more heavily imbued with meaning. It was as if he had abruptly decided that he had coddled her enough, or given her long enough to fully forgive him. It was such a strong change from the day before, however, from the pretty flatteries and gentle wooing, that she felt somewhat unsettled. The fact that his family had all stopped to talk to her, their hints easy to read, showed her that it was probably not vanity that told her Nigel was about to declare himself, to speak of marriage. She was not sure if he would also speak of love, and that uncertainty stung, but she could not shake the strong feeling that she was going to be asked to make a very big decision very soon.

She buried her face in her hands and cursed. Everything seemed to be going her way. After watching Nigel and Maldie she was sure that he no longer loved the woman, no more than any brother loves a sister. He had wooed her very prettily for a fortnight, had even thoroughly explained himself. Even if he did not express love, Gisele knew she would marry him if he asked her to. Foolish though it might be, she loved him enough to marry him and hope that she could win his heart over time. She knew she would never be able to resist taking that gamble.

There was, however, one thing she had allowed herself to forget—the DeVeaux. In all this time there had been no word from her family. The hunt for her was obviously still on. Now that she had come to know the Murrays, had enjoyed their kindness, she knew she could not be responsible for bringing trouble to their gates. If any one of them were hurt or killed because she had led her enemies to their door, had used them to hide behind, she would never forgive herself.

She had been selfish, she decided, reveling in comfort, good food, and kindness without a thought to the consequences for the ones offering them to her. Gisele wondered if she had also allowed herself to be lulled by the Murrays' belief in her innocence. She suspected that now even Nigel believed, although, he had said nothing, to her utter annoyance. It did not mean that anyone else believed in her yet, however, and she had to face that cold fact. There was little chance that the Murrays' belief in her innocence would be enough to turn back the DeVeaux, either.

There was no doubt in her mind about what she had to do now. She had to leave, had to go and take all of her troubles with her. It was also her responsibility to prove her innocence. She had left that in the hands of others for far too long. Gisele sighed and shook her head. She had left everything in the hands of others, from her safety to the food that she ate. It was time to show some backbone and stop expecting the rest of the world to help her. If nothing else, she thought with a sad smile, she would have the advantage of surprise on her side. No one would expect her to go back to France and confront her accusers.

 

The ease with which she slipped out of Donncoill at dusk amazed Gisele. It also made her feel a little guilty, for she knew she was taking advantage of the Murrays' trust and friendship. Her only consolation was the knowledge that what she was doing was for their own safety. She nudged her pony along the trail she and Nigel had followed into Donncoill two weeks before and forced herself not to look back, fearing that she could easily weaken in her resolve.

Night had fully fallen by the time she reached a small village. Gisele suspected it would be safer to camp outside of the village, but she was a coward. She had slept alone in the wood a time or two while traveling alone in France, but only when there had been no other choice, and she had hated every minute of it.
And now a thief
, she thought with a wince of shame as she handed the frowning innkeeper money for a room for the night. She hoped Nigel would forgive her for lightening his purse when she paid him back in full, as she had every intention of doing. Even if she did not survive this journey home, she would make certain that her family was clearly instructed to settle all of her debts.

Once alone in her room, she stripped to her chemise and sprawled on top of the tiny bed. She felt trapped, afraid, and unhappy, despite knowing that she was doing the only thing she could. The Murrays considered it a matter of honor to keep her safe and help her, but that did not make it right or fair for her to use that to her own advantage. She was ashamed that she had already done so for so long.

Gisele closed her eyes. She knew sleep would be a long time in coming, but she intended to do her best to clear her mind and get as much rest as she possibly could. Rest would be needed for the days ahead, needed to maintain the strength she required to keep going. It was certainly going to be needed to force herself to get back on a ship and sail to France. There was too much that could make her turn back, such as her deep fear of being alone, of facing the DeVeaux, even of getting herself thoroughly and completely lost. There was also Nigel. He had been close to giving her some part of what she craved, a lifetime together, and at least the hope of winning his love. She prayed that he would not come after her, for she knew he could easily convince her to return to him and Donncoill, and that would be wrong.

 

“Where is Gisele?” Nigel asked Maldie as he strode into the great hall and stopped before her and Balfour where they sat at the head table.

“I havenae seen her for many hours,” Maldie replied, then looked at Balfour, who shrugged and shook his head. “In truth, I was a wee bit surprised when she didnae come join us for this meal. I had thought of sending Margaret to her chambers to see if she was unwell.”

“Gisele isnae in her chambers, either. I have already looked there.” Nigel signaled to a page and sent the boy out to the stable, then sat at the table and idly picked at the food spread out before him.

“Do ye think she has fled Donncoill?” Balfour asked after several moments of tense silence.

“I dinnae ken,” Nigel replied. “'Tis the only possibility I have yet to consider. She isnae any place within this keep that I can see, and why would she hide from me? From any of us?” When the breathless page returned and reported that Gisele's horse was gone, Nigel pounded his fist on the table and cursed. “She has run away.”

“But, why?”

“I dinnae ken, do I?” Nigel snapped, but then took a slow, deep breath to calm himself. “'Tis clear that she told her plans to no one, or I would be aware of them by now, so I can but guess at the reasons for her leaving. I have a few sound ones.”

“Ye dinnae think her enemies somehow reached her here, do ye?”

“Nay,” Nigel replied without hesitation. “Gisele would ne'er have gone with them peacefully, and I have seen no sign that there has been any sort of struggle anywhere within the keep. And someone would have seen something, assuming that any stranger could have gotten inside these walls unseen, anyway, which I greatly doubt.”

Balfour nodded. “Nor could they have then left here with an unwilling lass. Do ye go after her?”

“Oh, aye, but it must wait until the dawn. I cannae track her in the dark.”

“Nigel, this makes no sense to me,” Maldie said. “She was safe here. Why would she ride away alone? Surely she has not forgotten that she has enemies who wish to kill her?”

“Nay.” Nigel shook his head. “In truth, I would wager that those enemies are exactly why she has left. The lass has e'er wavered between accepting help and feeling it was wrong or cowardly to pull others into the danger surrounding her.”

“Oh, aye, I understand.” When both men stared at her as if she had lost her wits, Maldie just shrugged. “In her place, I believe my mind would have traveled the same path. This is her trouble, nay ours. If that trouble then puts ones ye care about into danger then ye leave and take that danger as far away from them as ye can.”

“Mayhap,” Nigel reluctantly agreed. “But if the foolish lass had waited a day longer, or spoken to me of her fears, I could have stopped this.” He held up a paper he had clutched in his hands. “There is no danger now. She is pardoned. The real killers of her husband have been found and, sadly, punished. 'Tis all over.”

“Then ye had best hurry and find her. She may be safe from the DeVeaux now, but it isnae safe for a lass to be riding about all alone.”

“I ken it. I will find her, and I may well chain her to a wall here until I can talk some sense into her bonny little head.”

The hours until dawn crawled by for Nigel. He tried to sleep but found it impossible. Instead he paced his room and cursed the sun for being too slow to rise. Despite his efforts not to, he thought of every danger that could befall Gisele out there alone in a country she did not know. He even recalled her tendency to get lost, and feared he could lose a lot of time trailing her all over the countryside.