Highland Honor [Murray Brothers Book 2]

by Hannah Howell

  Gisele hoped that the darkness hid her blushes as she nodded and slipped away. She was finding the lack of privacy hard to endure, although she was not sure why. Privacy had become a rare privilege since she had fled her husband's lands. She had thought that she had become accustomed to the loss. Somehow, being with Nigel had made her painfully aware of it again.

  When she returned to the fire Nigel slipped away, and Gisele lectured herself yet again on her foolishness. He had no privacy, either, and it had to be difficult for him as well, although she suspected that men were less troubled by such a thing. It was time, she decided, to stop thinking about herself so much and try to consider Nigel a little more. He had freely offered his protection, but she doubted he had fully considered all of the complications that could arise while racing across France with a woman. She swore that she would try to stop thinking of how hard it was for her, and try to make it easier for him.

  The moment Nigel returned he collected their bedding. Gisele quickly took hers from him and laid it out herself. She ignored his smile when he saw that she had made her bed across the fire from him. If he chose to think she was simply enforcing a distance between them, that was fine with her. Soon he would see that she intended to do her share of the work now, not to just sit around and wait to be cared for.

  Nigel banked the fire, yanked off his boots, and unbuckled his sword. He set his weapons close to his rough bed in case they were needed in the night. He sprawled on top of the quilted mat, wrapped the thin blanket around himself, and turned on his side to watch Gisele across the fire. She could not fully hide a wince as she eased her body down onto her bed. Nigel started to reach out to her in sympathy, but quickly restrained himself. There was nothing he could do for her. She would just have to endure until she grew harder.

  "Ye havenae done much long, hard riding, have ye, lass?"

  "Non.” She turned on her side to look at him across the dwindling fire. “If I grew weary of riding, I rested. There was no place for me to run to, so my concern was simply to remain hidden."

  "A good strategy."

  "Was it? I am still being hunted."

  "Aye, but ye are also still alive."

  She smiled faintly at that simple truth, then sighed. “It is no longer enough."

  "Nay,” Nigel agreed. “There are too many hounds on your trail now. Mayhap your enemies thought ye would be easy to catch, that a wee lass couldnae escape them for long. They now ken that ye arenae easy prey, and the hunt is truly on. That is why I press ye so hard, lass. Now ye must run, run hard, run fast, and run far."

  "So you have said. Do you truly believe the pursuit is that strong, that unrelenting, now?"

  "Aye, I do. ‘Tis nay only your husband's kin ye must elude, but as the bounty offered for ye grows near every mon with a greed for some coin will be searching for you."

  "A chilling thought."

  Nigel nodded. “It is, and, although I dinnae like to add to your fears, ‘tis one ye must hold fast to. ‘Twill keep ye wary of all ye might meet, and that will keep ye alive."

  Gisele murmured in agreement. It was advice well worth heeding. She had lived with fear for the last year, yet as time had passed and she was neither harmed nor captured, she knew it had lost its sharpness. Having a tall, battle-hardened Scot at her side had also made her feel safer. Nigel could not be expected to protect her from everything. He was but one man with one sword. He also did not deserve to face a danger just because she was blissfully ignoring the threat to both their lives.

  Until the DeVeaux accepted her claim of innocence her life was in danger, and she was a fool if she ever let that knowledge slip from the fore of her thoughts. Despite the hard ride to reach Scotland as soon as possible, Gisele knew she had done so from time to time. That had to stop. The only thing she should be thinking of at all times was how swiftly and how elusively she and Nigel could reach Scotland.

  As she closed her eyes Gisele took one last look at Nigel and decided she could be forgiven her moments of distraction. He was a man who could easily distract even the most strong-minded of women. It was nice to once again think of a man without fear or loathing, but Gisele knew she would need to wait to indulge in that frivolity. She might not be certain of her feelings for Nigel, of how true or deep or well deserved they were, but she was sure that she did not want to be the cause of any harm coming to him.

  Nigel watched her fall asleep and inwardly laughed at himself. He meant everything he had told her about why he had made himself her protector, but there were other reasons he had no intention of revealing to her. There was whatever had him lying there staring at her small face like some lovesick youth. It was whatever made him so hungry for her that he found it difficult to sleep. It was also whatever had him aching to heal all of her heart's wounds. If her husband were still alive, Nigel knew he would hunt the man down and kill him with his bare hands.

  For the first time in seven years he was alive with emotion. Gisele had yanked him free of his black melancholy with one look from her deep, green eyes. He just wished he were sure of what she had pulled him into, of which emotion he should trust. She looked a lot like the woman he had run away from and, although he wanted to believe he had more sense, he had to wonder if that was why he was so drawn to Gisele. If nothing else, it was only fair to her to try to decide if he truly cared for her or if he were just reaching out to the ghost of Maldie, his brother's wife.

  That was something he had to know by the time they reached Scotland, he thought with a grimace as he turned on his back and stared up at the stars. Gisele would see her resemblance to Maldie the minute she set eyes on the woman. If he and Gisele had become lovers by then, he needed to know his own heart and mind, for he would certainly have to explain himself. And he knew that Gisele would not be easy to convince after having suffered so many bitter betrayals.

  He closed his eyes and readied himself to go to sleep. He prayed that when the time came that Gisele accepted him as her lover he would at least be certain that he truly wanted Gisele DeVeau, was not simply using her and fooling himself. Using Gisele to sate a hunger for another woman was an insult he could not inflict upon her. The cause of his lust should be easier to discern than the cause of the feelings twisting his insides into knots. For the latter, he mused as he felt sleep weight his body, he was going to need time, a lot of time. Scotland suddenly did not seem that far away.

  Gisele awoke in a cold sweat. Tense, her hand curled tightly around the handle of her dagger, she listened intently to the sounds of the wood. A soft howling was carried on the wind, and she knew why she was suddenly awake and terrified.

  "I hate wolves,” she whispered, a little comforted by the faint agitation of the horses. It was good to know that she was not the only one made uneasy by the wolves.

  For several long moments she lay, eyes tightly closed, and tried to ignore the sound. One glance at the peacefully sleeping Nigel told her that he was not worried, so she should not be, either. Her determination to be brave wavered almost immediately as more howls disturbed the peace of the night. It would take a lot more than bold talk and strong will to cure her of her terror of wolves. It was an old and hardened fear. She knew she would not get to sleep lying there trying to ignore them, just as she knew she desperately needed to get some rest. If she became too exhausted she could slow everything down.

  She cautiously sat up and looked at Nigel. Not only did he look safe and strong, but close at his side was his sword. Gisele gently nibbled at her bottom lip as she tried to make up her mind. She did not want to appear a complete coward. She also did not wish to make Nigel think that she sought any more than a respite from her own fears. A shiver tore through her body as the wolves continued their eerie music, and she gathered up her bedding. If Nigel woke, she would worry about explaining herself then.

  As silently as she could she held tightly to her bedding and crept to his side. She was embarrassed by her cowardice, but that shame was not enough to stop her. If the knowledge that the wolves w
ere far away and that the fire would keep them at bay could not stop her, self-disgust certainly would not. Taut with worry that she would wake Nigel and have to confess her fear, she carefully spread out her bedding right by his side.

  She was just settling down and wrapping herself in her blanket when she knew he was awake. It did not surprise her when she turned and found him looking at her, but she inwardly cursed her ill luck.

  "Cold?” Nigel asked, wondering why she looked so guilty. He hastily subdued a surge of hope that she had sought him out for reasons of passion. It was too soon.

  "Oui,” she agreed hastily, then jumped and edged a little closer to him when the wolves howled.

  "Afraid of the wolves, are ye?"

  "Oui, afraid of the wolves,” she grumbled.

  "They arenae near enough to trouble you,” he said.

  "I know."

  "The fire, small as it is, will keep them at bay."

  "I know that, too,” she snapped, and glared at him when he laughed. “It is not funny."

  "Nay, your fear isnae to be laughed at,” he agreed. “Howbeit, your anger at it is amusing."

  Gisele grimaced and dragged her fingers through her tight curls. “It is a weakness."

  "Not a troublesome one, lass, and many people fear wolves. I dinnae find the sound of them verra comforting."

  She smiled briefly. “The fear of them angers me because it will not be swayed by reason. Those wolves are no threat to me. I know that. And yet, I still feel afraid each time they call out. It is senseless, and I hate that."

  "Those fears are indeed the hardest to tolerate. Everyone has one he must deal with."

  "You need not lie to comfort me. I find it hard to believe that you suffer from such a weakness."

  "I will confess that I havenae faced it yet.” He moved his sword to his other side so that there was no chance that she would roll onto it in the middle of the night. “It could be hidden by pride or vanity, or I simply havenae done or seen what is needed to bring it forward. Howbeit, I truly believe that we each have a fear like that, a fear that willnae heed reason and fact."

  "If it will not heed reason or fact, then how can one ever conquer it?"

  "One doesnae.” He grinned when she cursed, then grew serious. “Ye shouldnae let it plague ye so. If one must be blindly afraid of something, then wolves are a wise choice. Lass, it isnae the fear that is the weakness, but how ye act when ye must truly face it."

  "Then I have failed that test, for I am here, cowering behind you."

  "Nay, beside me.” He laughed when she swatted him on the arm. “Ye havenae truly faced it, lass. Ye can but hear the wolves in the distance, so ‘tis no real crime to let your fear have its reign. The true test of courage comes when ye must confront them, and what ye do then decides whether or not ye or someone else dies."

  "I pray that day never comes,” she whispered, shivering at the mere thought of it.

  "Sleep, lass. The beasts willnae trouble us this night."

  Gisele nodded and closed her eyes. The wolves did not grow silent, but she knew she would have no trouble sleeping. She was not sure if Nigel's assurances or his presence at her side calmed her fears the most, but either reason still left her feeling very disappointed in herself. After being alone and caring for herself for nearly a year, she had thought she was strong enough and capable enough to endure alone, to survive anything with no one's help. It troubled her to discover that she might have been wrong or just vain, for she could still have a long fight ahead of her and might not always have Nigel at her side. As sleep weighted her body, she decided that she would worry about it later.

  Nigel heard her breathing grow slow and quiet, and softly cursed. It could prove to be a very long night. He could understand her fear. He did not like to hear the wolves, either. That sound meant that he might be wrong to think the forest was safer than the open road. Then he shook his head, abruptly dismissing that concern. There was only a small chance of confronting an animal that could hurt him or Gisele, but a very good chance of meeting with a DeVeau or someone who hungered after the bounty if he and Gisele did not stay hidden as long as possible. It was still a good plan to keep their forays into the more settled areas to as few as possible.

  When she murmured in her sleep and moved closer, her lithe body touching his side, Nigel closed his eyes and struggled to rein in his errant desires. She was not inviting him to take her into his arms, just blindly seeking his warmth. He was a little alarmed and somewhat surprised at how quickly and strongly his passion soared in response to such an innocent touch. It also made him all the more eager to make love to her. If she could stir him so when she was asleep and unwilling, he could only imagine how she could make him feel if she were awake and eager. He silently laughed. If he kept thinking like that, it was indeed going to be a very long night.

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  Six

  Warmth surrounded Gisele, and she huddled closer to it. She felt comforted and safe, just as she used to when, as a small child, she crawled into her grandmother's bed. Her grandmother had always been ready to listen to her, to soothe her fears, and to believe in her. It was so nice to have her grandmother back.

  As Gisele became more awake, more alert to her surroundings, she realized that something was wrong with her pleasant dream. The body she was curled up to was hard, not soft. The arms wrapped around her were big and strong, not those of an aging woman. There was no scent of roses, long her favorite flower. And her grandmother had never moved her small, frail hands over her back in such a way.

  The moment she became aware of the fact that she was in Nigel's arms, Gisele was reluctant to open her eyes. It felt good. The warmth of his lips as he lightly brushed kisses over her face and neck stirred her blood. His strong hands moved slowly, gently, over her body in a way that tempted her to press closer to him. If she opened her eyes she would have to acknowledge that she was awake, that she was willingly letting him move against her in a way that left no doubt about what he wanted from her. It was nicer to pretend that she still lingered within a dream. When he covered her mouth with his she welcomed his kiss even as she wondered how long she could savor it this time before the fear returned.

  Nigel fought for the strength to proceed slowly. Gisele was warm, willing, and—he was certain—wide awake. He did not want to do anything that would stir up the terror he had glimpsed in her eyes the last time they had kissed. That fear had been bred in her by brutality. Nigel prayed that gentleness would keep it chained, and let passion rule.

  When he first heard the sound, he ignored it. Gisele tasted so sweet and felt so good in his arms that he did not want to allow anything to distract him. His instincts, however, sharpened by years of battle, refused to allow him to be so foolish. Their lives depended on him being alert and prepared to act. It took every scrap of his willpower to do so, but he pulled away from Gisele and sat up.

  Gisele found herself cast aside so abruptly that she felt cold, bereft. She had not yet felt any fear, so she knew the sudden ending of the embrace was not caused because she had somehow, pushed him away or resisted him. It was very confusing to be kissed passionately by a man one moment and then watch him buckle on his sword the next. If this was how Nigel intended to seduce her, Gisele doubted they would ever become lovers.

  "Get up, lass,” Nigel ordered even as he swiftly rolled up his bedding.

  Without hesitation, Gisele did as he said. The tone of his voice demanded obedience. Instinct also told her that this was not the time to take offense at that tone. She just wished she knew what had spurred him into this sudden decamping.

  As she finished securing her saddlepack on her horse, Gisele got the answer to why they were hurrying so. There was no mistaking the sound of horsemen approaching through the wood. Even as she mounted her horse, she stared at Nigel with a mixture of awe and astonishment. How had he heard the men and realized that they were a threat so much sooner than she had? In truth, she was still not sure the approaching
horsemen were a threat. She opened her mouth to ask a few questions, but Nigel just grinned and slapped the rump of her horse, sending the animal out of the clearing at a fast trot.

  Gisele risked one quick look behind her as they rode away. The riders she had heard were just coming into sight, and there escaping pursuit—perhaps no escaping death, either.

  The sun was high in the sky before Nigel allowed them to stop by a small brook. As he watered the horses, Gisele stole a moment of privacy and performed a hasty toilette. She could not recall escape ever being so exhausting, and began to think that Nigel was right. The DeVeaux had not really thought she could elude them for very long, and so had not tried very hard to hunt her down. Now the chase had truly begun. Gisele was not sure she could survive it all the way to Scotland.

  "Dinnae fret yourself, lass,” Nigel said as Gisele knelt by the brook and refilled their waterskins. “We will shake these dogs off our tail ere the day is o'er."

  "You sound very certain of that,” she said, as she hung her waterskin over her saddlehorn. “These dogs could easily run me to death."

  "Nay, lass, ye are stronger than that."

  "Am I? And, before we begin to ride again, could you tell me how you knew they were near at hand?"

  Nigel shrugged. “Smelled them?"

  "I begin to think you have a nose stronger than the best hunting dog in my father's pack."

  He laughed softly as he mounted and waited for her to do the same. “I dinnae ken how I knew. At times, I just ken that danger approaches. When challenged, I fear I have no sensible explanation."

  "Do you have visions?” she asked as she nudged her horse to follow his.

  "Nay, I am nay gifted with the sight. ‘Tis as if some unseen hand gives me a wee shake, as if some wee voice whispers to me to take heed. This morning I wasnae listening or watching anything but you,” he said, glancing at her as he spoke and smiling at her blushes, “yet I was suddenly alert to the danger coming our way. I would say that I heard a sound, for I truly thought I did, yet the riders were too far away for anyone to hear. I ken that now."