Читать книгу Highland Honor - Hannah Howell - Страница 8

Gisele slowly paced her cousin Maigrat’s kitchen. They had made good time in their journey to her small demanse, but Guy had suffered. He had been pale and bathed in sweat by the time they had reached Maigrat’s gates. His dire appearance had been all that had gotten them within the walls, Gisele was sure of it, and she found that a painful truth to face. There was no ignoring how they had been swiftly brought around to the rear, tersely ordered to hide their faces as they went, and left to stand in the kitchens only after Maigrat had cleared them of servants. Nor could she ignore the lack of any offer of refreshment. Maigrat had always prided herself on her courtesy. Gisele suspected that her cousin hoped they would be gone by the time she had put Guy abed, but Gisele stubbornly stayed where she was. She would not leave until she was sure Guy would be cared for.

She glanced at Nigel, who was sprawled in a chair at the well-scrubbed table, idly tapping his long fingers on the smooth surface. She felt ashamed for her cousin Maigrat. Although she knew nothing of the customs of Scotland she felt sure that he could see how poorly they were being treated. At least now he would believe her when she told him that they could not count on much help from her family. Gisele just prayed that he would believe everything else she said. She was not looking forward to telling him the whole sordid story, but that time was drawing near.

“I believe she will care for Guy,” Nigel said, watching Gisele closely and feeling sorry for the pain her family was so obviously causing her.

“I believe she will, too,” Gisele replied softly.

“But nay you.”

“Non, she will have none of me.” Gisele smiled crookedly, wishing she could hide her pain but knowing his sharp gaze had already seen it. “I think Maigrat hopes I will slip away ere she returns, but she will be forced to look upon me one more time. I must hear her swear that she will care for Guy.”

“Agreed. If ye can do so without choking on your pride, ye may also ask her for a few supplies.”

“Must I?”

“Does she have any reason to refuse ye even that meager aid?”

“None.”

“Then ask, and shame her into giving it. We need all we can gather, for there may not be many opportunities to gather supplies, either by our own hands or with coin.”

“Do you think we will be that hard pressed?”

He shrugged. “I cannae say, but ’tis wise to be prepared for a hard ride.”

She nodded and then tensed as Maigrat strode into the kitchen. The tight-lipped look on the older woman’s round face conveyed her displeasure at finding Gisele still there better than any words could. Gisele did not want to ask the woman for anything, but forced herself to do as Nigel asked, and swallowed her pride.

“You will care for Guy and keep him safe?” she asked. “Do you swear to that, Maigrat?”

“Of course,” Maigrat snapped. “We fostered the boy for many years. He is as a son to me. You should never have pulled him into your troubles.”

“He is out of them now.”

“As is poor young Charles.” Maigrat nodded when Gisele paled. “You have developed a true skill at leaving dead men in your wake. And now you sink even deeper into shame. Look at you. No woman with honor in her soul would dress herself in such a scandalous manner.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Gisele saw Nigel rise to his feet, his handsome face taut with anger, and she quickly signaled him to remain silent. He could not protect her from everything, and should not be asked to. This was a family matter, and painful as it was it was not worth entangling him in it.

“Perhaps, cousin, I have decided that life is of more value to me than honor,” she said quietly. “I need a few supplies, and then I will leave you.”

“I have put myself at risk taking Guy in and allowing you to even step upon my lands, and yet you ask more of me?”

“I do. What matter if you give me a few scraps of food and a little wine? If the DeVeaux discover I was here they will think you did as much, anyway.”

Gisele stood silently as a softly cursing Maigrat stuffed a flour sack full of food, thrust it at her, and then gave Nigel two full wineskins. She had to fight back the urge to toss everything at the woman and walk out. What she had told Maigrat was true. She did think life was more important than honor. Certainly it had to be more important than pride.

“Is this a new fool you have ensnared to help you flee justice?” Maigrat asked.

“Let it lie, Nigel,” Gisele murmured when he took a step toward Maigrat. “It is not worth your trouble.” She looked at her cousin. “Some people actually pause to listen to my tale, and do not judge me solely on what the DeVeaux said. It is most sad that few of those can be found within my own family. Tell Guy I will let him know when I am safely away,” she added as she walked out of the kitchen.

Gisele said nothing as she and Nigel returned to their horses, sheltered their faces with the hoods of their cloaks, and rode away from her cousin’s demanse. She was too choked with hurt and her own stung pride to say a word. It was almost dark by the time she pulled herself free of that emotional quagmire to look around. A moment later, Nigel signaled her to halt.

“We will camp here for the night,” he said, as he dismounted. “’Tis sheltered enough to hide us but not so enclosed that it could become a trap, and there is water near at hand.”

She nodded and dismounted. Silence reigned as they tended to their horses and built a fire. It was not until they had filled their bellies with Maigrat’s bread and cheese that Gisele sensed Nigel had had enough of silence. She looked up from the fire she had been staring into to catch him moving closer to her. He smiled faintly and held out the wineskin.

“I think ’tis time ye told me the truth,” he said quietly as she drank.

“Which truth? Mine, or the one so many others choose to believe?” She grimaced and took another drink of wine as she heard the bitterness in her voice.

“Just tell me what ye see as the truth. I believe I have the wit to judge for myself.”

“I wed Lord DeVeau nearly a year and a half ago. Oh, I protested the marriage in every way I could, but none would heed me or help me. He was of good family, a powerful family with a heavy purse. Such an honored knight could not be as evil as the rumors said he was.”

“But ye believed the rumors.”

“There were too many rumors, too many stories of his evil, for them all to be lies.”

“So, ye were forced to the altar.”

She had barely begun her tale and yet he could already see the pain it caused her. Nigel was tempted to tell her it did not matter, that she did not have to continue, but he bit back the words. He had to know what he was involved in. It would be hard enough to keep her safe until they reached Scotland. It would only be more difficult if he did not know why she was running, and from whom.

“I was. On my wedding night I realized that the rumors were true.” She expelled a short, unsteady laugh. “The rumors had not even begun to reveal the beast that was my husband. I again turned to my family, but they shrugged aside my pleas and stories as the fancies of a new bride. My only salvation came in the fact that my husband soon grew bored with me. Oh, he still insisted on bedding his wife, on making me the kind of wife he thought he needed, but the times he sought me out grew less and less very quickly. I was to be the breeder of his heirs. Aside from that, if I kept quiet and out of his sight he paid little heed to me. There were other women to pursue.”

Nigel found himself wishing that DeVeau was still alive so that he might kill him. She made no clear accusations, talked of how she was treated in subtleties, but he knew all too well the brutality she must have endured. The lingering horror of it could still be heard in her soft, trembling voice. He put his arm around her shoulders and felt her tense, but when she did not pull away he continued to hold her.

“My marriage fell into a pattern. He would beat me, bed me, and then leave me be for a while so long as I did not intrude. Becoming a shadow was difficult for me.”

“Aye, I can imagine. Ye arenae the sort of woman who wishes to be so meek.”

“He made me want it. I continued to try to gain the help of my family and to believe I was starting to get them to listen to me. I fear I did not help my cause by occasionally wishing the man dead, even saying that if someone did not free me of this torment soon I would free myself.”

Gisele felt Nigel’s arm tighten around her shoulders and fought the fear rising up within her, the fear she had learned in DeVeau’s hands. Nigel was merely offering an innocent comfort. Lurking right beside the fear was a sense of safety, of comfort, and she struggled to grasp that and push the blind fear away. It did feel good to be held gently by such a strong, handsome man, and she refused to let DeVeau steal her ability to enjoy that.

“Did no one seek proof of what ye said? Look at your bruises?”

“I was too ashamed to show them much proof.”

“Ye had naught to be ashamed of.”

“Mayhap. I was not a sweet child, and had grown into a woman cursed with a quick and often sharp tongue. I believe they thought I was finally getting the discipline no one had given me before. There were insults and injuries I could not bring myself to speak of. Private injuries,” she added in a whisper. “As the sixth month of my marriage began I was girding myself to bear all to my family. I realize now that one thing which had kept me silent was a fear that even those insults and brutalities would not turn them to my side. Then someone took the decision out of my hands.”

“Your husband was killed.”

“Oui, murdered. My husband felt all women were his for the taking. He took a young maid, a local farmer’s daughter. He brutalized her and left her near to death. The farmer could get no one to exact justice for this crime, so he and his family took justice into their own hands. They found my husband sprawled in a drunken stupor upon his bed and cut his throat, then mutilated him.”

“Mutilated him?”

Gisele blushed and stared into the fire. “They cut off his manhood and choked him with it. In truth, I think they did that first, then cut his throat. I found the body and there was a look upon his face that told me he did not die easily. For his crime, I think that is the punishment they would have exacted.”

“Aye, a horrible way to die but ye are right, it fits the crime. And the DeVeaux and your own family think ye did that?”

“Well, I fear I did threaten such gruesome things from time to time. They had already begun to watch me closely. I knew the moment I saw DeVeau lying there, I just knew, they would blame me. It may not have been wise but I ran, as swiftly as I could. I am certain some of the servants suffered for my escape, as the DeVeaux would have felt they had to have seen me leave. They did, and they did nothing to stop me. I ran straight to my family.”

“Only to find that they wouldnae help you.”

Gisele struggled to swallow her tears. That had been the greatest hurt of all, and she still felt the power of it even after so many months “They would not. They feared the scandal, questioned me, even spoke of holding me for the DeVeaux. I did not wait to see if they would hand me over yet again. I fled, and that has been the way I have lived for nearly a year.”

Although she wished she could compose herself enough to clear the tears from her eyes, Gisele looked up at Nigel. “I swear on all I hold dear, on Guy’s life if you will, that I did not kill the man. I am innocent of the crime, but since so few of my own family believe me it is taking a long time to prove that.”

Nigel stared down into her upturned face, its delicate lines highlighted beautifully by the soft light of the fire. He knew it was possible that he was being influenced by her beauty, by how strongly she affected him, but he could not believe she had killed the man. And, he mused as he gently brushed a tear from her cheek, even if she had it had been justified. He was certain that Gisele had not told him the true depths of the injuries DeVeau had inflicted upon her, and might never do so.

“No mon has the right to treat a woman as he treated you,” Nigel said quietly.

“So, you believe that I am innocent.”

“I believe that DeVeau got exactly what he deserved.”

Gisele stared at him, captivated by the warmth in his dark, amber eyes. It felt dangerously good to be held so close to his warmth. He would help her. Some of her fears eased. When he softly kissed the mark the tear had left upon her cheek, she trembled. She knew she should move away, but could not bring herself to leave the haven of his arms. Then she frowned, wondering if she had been right, if Nigel thought to gain more than the truth as payment for his help.

“I have told you the truth as you asked,” she said.

“Aye, ye have.” He idly traced her small face with kisses, enjoying the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips but watchful for any sign of fear or rejection.

“And that was the only price you asked for helping me.”

“It was.”

“Then why do I begin to suspect that you seek more of me?”

“Because ye are a clever lass?”

She tensed slightly as he touched his lips to hers. They were soft, warm, and very inviting. Fear stirred within her, but so did curiosity. Since she had first set eyes upon him she had wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, had wondered if she could do so without being afraid. It was not wise, for he clearly sought to seduce her, might even think she was agreeing to share his bed in return for his protection, yet she could not bring herself to immediately and forcefully push him away.

“I need help and a strong sword arm, but I will not play the whore to gain those things.”

“I wasnae asking ye to.”

“You are trying to kiss me.”

“Oh, aye, that I am. I have made no secret of the fact that I think ye are a bonny lass. I but seek a wee taste of the lips I have coveted for a week.”

“And maybe a lot more?”

“Your suspicions are unwarranted, bonny Gisele. Aye, I willnae lie and say I will treat ye as a nun, but ye may rest assured that I will ne’er take what ye dinnae want to give. Weel, except for this one kiss.”

“I am not sure you will be stealing that,” she whispered.

Nigel lightly tightened his grip on her, deeply aroused by her soft words but suspecting that it would be wise to hide that. He brushed his lips over hers, savoring the sweetness of her trembling mouth. It was undoubtedly dishonorable to even think of seducing a woman who had turned to him for protection, especially one who had been as mistreated as Gisele, but Nigel knew he was going to try to do just that. As he slowly deepened the kiss, he swore that he would do nothing to add to her pain. Instead, he would do all in his power to show her that not all men were like her brutal husband.

Gisele clung to Nigel, timidly opening her mouth when he nudged her lips with his tongue. A war waged inside of her. Passion battled for dominance over fear. Each stroke of his tongue, the feel of his strong body pressed close to hers, called to her passion. It felt good. He felt good. Gisele desperately wanted to cling to that, to begin to learn what the minstrels sang about. But her fear continued to grow.

Suddenly, so swiftly that it nearly blinded her, her fear rose up and killed her passion. She went cold, her body stiffening with panic. Just as she grasped the sense to pull away, Nigel ended the kiss. She closed her eyes as he gently grasped her by the shoulders and held her away from him. After several slow, deep breaths she began to gain control, and cautiously opened her eyes to look at him. Her eyes widened when she still saw the warmth of passion in his eyes, a warmth tinged with a look of sadness instead of the anger she had been taught to expect.

“Ye need not fear me, Gisele,” he said quietly.

“I do not believe I do.” She smiled slightly as he released her and handed her the wineskin. “I do know that that fear was not caused by you.”

“I suspected that. Ye have told me the truth, as much as I really need to ken, but I think ye havenae told me everything. Howbeit, that kiss did tell me more than the fact that I wish to kiss ye again. It told me that DeVeau bred a terror in you, a terror so deep and strong that it could kill the passion I felt, sadly brief though it was. For that alone the mon deserved to die.”

She grew still and stared at him as she watched him spread out their blankets. “You think I killed him.”

“Weel, nay and aye.”

“You cannot believe in both my innocence and my guilt. I am either one or the other.”

“Ye are innocent, and dinnae deserve to die. I just havenae decided if ye killed the mon or nay. He deserved to die, Gisele. If it is any comfort, I dinnae see ye as some vicious monkiller. If ye did do it, ye were driven to it by crimes I am nay sure I want to hear about.” He sprawled on his blanket and patted the one spread out beside him. “Come to bed. lass. Ye need to rest. There is a long, hard ride ahead of us, and time to rest may soon be verra hard to find.”

Gisele was stunned and moved to her bed, unable to speak. She had wanted Nigel to believe in her innocence, but he only accepted that she was justified in killing the man. As she curled up in her blanket she wondered why she was not furious and insulted. She supposed it was because he gave her tale more weight than many of her family did. Despite that, she found that she desperately wanted him to believe that she had not killed the man. Although it was good to know that he felt confident she would have been justified, that she would have simply been defending herself, she realized she wanted him to know that she was stronger than that.

“You show me more kindness and understanding than my family does,” she said, turning to look at him. “I should be satisfied with that.”

“But ye are not.”

“I fear not. I am stronger than you think. I would have found another way to get free. By the time we get to Scotland I promise that I will have you believing in my complete innocence.”

“Fair enough. I, too, make a promise.”

“Do I really wish to hear this?” She saw him grin, and silently cursed.

“Nay, probably not, but I feel it only fair that I tell you. Call it a warning if ye will. By the time we get to Scotland I mean to prove to you that not all men are like your husband. I mean to resurrect the passion he killed within you.”

Gisele quickly turned away from him. She felt an odd mix of excitement and terror. Part of her desperately wanted him to be able to fulfill that promise, and part of her was desperately afraid of the same thing. As she closed her eyes, she prayed she would have the strength to allow him to fulfill his promise.