Highland Honor [Murray Brothers Book 2]

by Hannah Howell

  "Are you certain of this?"

  It was hard for Nigel to control his rage, but he knew that scaring George with it would not get him anywhere. It was not George he was furious with, either, but the DeVeaux. First Michael had tried to crush Gisele, raping and beating her repeatedly. Now his cousin wished to follow in his footsteps. Nigel had finally awakened the passion in Gisele, freed it from the chains of the fear and loathing her husband had instilled in her. Now another DeVeau intended to undo all of his work, to leave poor Gisele with more scars. Nigel was not sure she could survive more brutality and humiliation. This time that glorious passion he had tasted too briefly could be killed, damaged beyond redemption.

  "Ye must help me get her away from there,” Nigel said.

  "Now, sir—” George's protest ended on a squeak as Nigel grabbed him by the front of his padded jupon and glared into his face.

  "Ye will help me get the lass out of there. Heed me, hanging would be a blessing to the lass if this Vachel means to abuse her. That is what her husband did to her throughout their thankfully short marriage. Gisele didnae kill Michael DeVeau, but he deserved to die ten times over for each rape and each beating he inflicted on that wee lass. She has only just begun to recover from the scars that mon left on her heart and mind. She willnae survive more of the same. Aye, she might breathe, walk, talk, eat, and piss, but inside she will be dead."

  "You said Michael was her husband. A husband cannot—"

  "Rape his wife? Of course he can. Ye cannae be that big a fool. If a lass doesnae want the bedding, she doesnae want it, and it makes no difference who is doing the asking. Aye, and even if the lass accepts the bedding as her wifely duty, the mon can be a bastard in the taking of her, cannae he?"

  George frowned. “This was to be a simple way to gain the coin I need to survive, but it grows more complicated by the hour."

  "Ye felt it was just to capture a murderess and take her to the ones she had wronged. Even if ye dinnae believe that she is innocent, and she is, ye cannae condone what ye say Vachel means to do to her."

  "Non, I cannot. I felt troubled leaving her behind when I learned what the man planned to do. He seems to think he can keep her a secret from the rest of his family, play with her as he pleases until he grows weary of her, and then hang her as was planned. That is an evil I want no part of. I am just not sure how I can help you. I occasionally ride with Vachel's men, but I am not his vassal and I rarely enter that keep."

  Nigel cursed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I need to ken where she has been placed within that pile of stone."

  "In Vachel's bedchambers. He ordered her bathed and dressed in a gown.” He leaned back a little when Nigel paled with fury.

  "It would have been better if she had been locked in the dungeons. I cannae see how I can get within the keep and slip up into the master's bedchamber without being seen."

  "Actually, I think you can get into the lord's bedchambers unseen, at least into the room he lets everyone think is his bedchamber.” George smiled faintly at Nigel's cross look of confusion. “Vachel thinks that no one knows, but he acts with the arrogance so many of wealth and power do. Those who scurry about doing their lord's bidding are neither blind nor stupid. They see and hear, and they learn all of the secrets."

  Nigel nodded as he picked up his wineskin and silently offered George a drink. “My family learned the hard truth of that years ago. We also learned that such hidden folk can also be a source of betrayal."

  "Oui, and I suspect that Vachel will die in his secret little bed at the hands of one of them, or by someone who was shown the way by them."

  "I am little concerned about the mon's fate if he lives out this day. Those gates will soon close, and I need to get the lass out of there."

  George took a long drink of the wine, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Come with me, then, and I will show you how to get into the man's bedchamber, in and out without being seen."

  "If it is to be so easy why did ye nay do it yourself?"

  "Because I am one of those men whose courage is not as strong as it should be,” George replied as he stood up and brushed himself off. “Sometimes I need the prick of a knife at my throat to get me to do what I know is right."

  Nigel hesitated as they moved to their horses and George mounted. This seemed all too easy. He had not only found a man to work with him but a way to slip in and out without being seen. It could be that he had been given an answer to the prayers he had been muttering for hours, but it could also be a trap. This Sir Vachel had to know that Gisele had a companion, a man who had joined her in the fight to stay alive. He could have sent George out to try and find him and ensnare him.

  George looked at Nigel and smiled. “You really have little choice. I am the only hope you have. No one else will be leaving that place, not alone. And I do not believe you will find anyone else amongst them who has even my reluctant sense of what is right and just."

  "It just seems suspiciously easy,” Nigel said as he mounted. “Do we just ride in?"

  "We do. I am even now devising an explanation for returning and bringing you inside. Has anyone seen you up close?"

  "None that have survived."

  "I shall have to leave this place after this,” George sighed, “for someone will recall that I brought a man in."

  "Then ye ride in, and I shall sneak in."

  "You can sneak in there?"

  "Aye, and your return will help me.” Nigel dismounted and pulled a small bag of coins from his purse. “Tell them ye wish to buy the lass's horse.” He gave George some money. “Then say ye must do something, anything, that will get ye back inside the keep. I will follow ye in there. Then ye can take me to this hiding place."

  "We must still get out with the girl."

  "I can slip her out as easily as I slip in. Ye just bring the horse to this place."

  "If you can slip in and slip away so easily, what need have you of me?"

  "I dinnae ken where the lass is, do I? And,"—he spoke in French to make his point more clear—"I can speak the language, but it is clear to all who hear me that I am not French."

  George made an exaggerated face of disgust. “I have rarely heard our tongue so completely butchered."

  "Go. I will meet up with you inside,” Nigel ordered.

  He watched George ride away. The man seemed amiable and trustworthy. He seemed to be just what he said he was, a man of reluctant courage who had thought he was doing nothing wrong and needed to be nudged to now do what was right. It was better that they enter the keep separately, however. If Nigel discovered that he was wrong to trust George, the man would not be able to just hand him over to the enemy. He would have to find him first. It was a small advantage, but it was better than nothing.

  It was pitifully easy to slip into the keep. Nigel wondered how the lord and his people had managed to survive for so long. He used the cover of the crowd in the baily, neatly blending himself into the muddle of people trying to finish their work before the light of day was completely gone, to get into the keep itself.

  Once inside, he hid himself in a small, shadowed alcove near the stairs and waited for George. By the time George sauntered in Nigel was so tense from waiting, to either act or be discovered, that he nearly shouted at the man. The way George was acting made the chance of discovery even greater. The man was trying not to appear as if he were looking for someone, trying so hard that anyone with eyes in his head would think he was acting suspiciously. He hissed to get George's attention, then yanked the man into the tiny dark alcove beside him.

  "Ye need practice, George,” he whispered. “Ye are about as stealthy as a cow."

  "And you are unsettlingly stealthy, like a ghost."

  "Where to now?"

  "You must just follow me. It is one of those very convoluted things—in this door, out another, down the hall, up the stairs, around the corner.” His eyes widened when Nigel briefly clamped a hand over his mouth.

  "Just go. I will be right
behind you.” They slipped out of the shadows, and after George had taken only a few steps the man looked back over his shoulder. Nigel cursed. “Stop looking at me. Ye will just draw other eyes this way."

  As they slipped through the halls of the keep, Nigel decided that George had not exaggerated. Sir Vachel might be wrong to think no one knew about his secret room, but he was probably not in any great danger. Anyone trying to get to it risked getting thoroughly lost or eventually seen by someone. Several times he had to use the shadows to hide himself, but he knew he had a true gift for such a thing. It was not boastful to think that few people were as good at it as he was.

  When they slipped into what George assured him was the last little hallway, it was completely dark. “How did ye come to learn of this?” he whispered as they inched their way along, hands on the damp wall to guide them.

  "I told you that I am not blessed with any great courage,” George whispered in reply. “I have a need to find all the places to hide or to escape when I come to these keeps. Once, when I was little more than a beardless youth, I was caught in the storming of a keep. I saved myself by hiding under the dead. I now carefully search every keep I go to. These are not my lords, or my lands. I see no gain in dying for the fools."

  Nigel did not have any reply to that. It made too much sense. George was a freedman. In the end, his greatest loyalty was to himself and his large family. He grunted softly when he walked into George's back, then grew very still as he heard the soft murmur of voices.

  "We are there?” he asked.

  "I but try to find the latch to the door."

  "Allow me."

  Inching past George, Nigel ran his hands over the heavy door until he found the latch. Holding his breath, tense with the need to be completely silent, he eased the door open. Stealth became a little easier as light from the bedchamber filled the cramped space. George began to inch along behind him as Nigel eased into the room, but he briefly placed a hand on George's chest to hold him where he was. George had shown himself to be less than skilled at creeping around, but the man might yet get through this rescue without any suspicion falling on him if he just stayed out of sight.

  The moment he slipped into the room, Nigel saw the couple on the bed. It took all of his willpower not to scream out his rage and immediately attack the man touching Gisele. As he crept up to the bedside, he almost felt Gisele's pain and fear. She sounded brave but her hands were clenched so tightly at her side that the knuckles were shining white in the candlelight. Nigel saw the smallest hint of blood and realized that she had pierced her palms with her nails. He inched up to the side of the bed and silently drew his sword.

  "Who is there to stop me?” said Sir Vachel.

  Nigel pressed the point of his sword squarely between Sir Vachel's slender shoulder blades. “Weel, I might be willing to give it a wee try."

  The man on top of Gisele tensed. Nigel saw him glance to the main door to the room, and his lips started to part. In less than a heartbeat he grabbed him by the hair, lifted him up enough to get a clear view of his face, and punched him on the jaw. He then dragged the man's limp body off the gaping Gisele and quietly set it on the floor. When he saw that Gisele's gown was open, her breasts bared, Nigel grew so furious that he sheathed his sword, drew his dagger, and reached for the unconscious Sir Vachel.

  Gisele broke free of her shock as she realized that Nigel was about to cut Vachel's throat. She scrambled to sit up, then grabbed his arm. She shivered when he looked at her, for she had never seen him that furious.

  "You cannot kill him,” she whispered.

  "I cannae believe ye have a drop of mercy in your soul for this bastard."

  "None, but I have a great deal of concern for you. Think, Nigel. Clear the anger from your mind and think. I have just lost over a year of my life running from the fury and vengeance of the DeVeaux, hiding from a punishment for a murder, a murder I did not even commit. I now see some chance of getting free of all of that. You have always had the chance to walk away, to turn your back on it all. The moment your knife cuts this man's throat you will lose that freedom, and suffer as I have. We will both suffer being hunted down again, bounties placed on our heads. If you kill him I, too, will carry the weight of it, and this time there will be no way to deny it."

  "She is right,” whispered George as he tiptoed past them and latched the door to the outer hall.

  "George?” Gisele stared after the man in surprise, then blushed and hastily redid her gown.

  "I had a change of heart,” George muttered as he moved to the bedside, watching closely as Nigel took several deep breaths to calm his fury while he bound and gagged Vachel and finally moved away from the man.

  "I see,” Gisele murmured as she got off the bed. “You will let me hang for murder, but not allow this.” She almost smiled when George just shrugged, then she turned to look at Nigel. “I am most interested in how you got in here, but at the moment I am even more interested in how we can get out."

  Nigel gave her one brief, hard hug, pleased to feel no rejection of his touch, then took her by the hand and led her toward the passageway. “I have a few things I am curious about, too. One being why a usually clever lass would flee safety and hand herself o'er to the enemy."

  Clinging tightly to Nigel's hand as the three of them inched their way along the dark passage, she whispered in protest, “I did not hand myself over to them."

  "Ye practically rode up to their gates and knocked on them."

  "I got lost."

  Even though it was too dark to see anything, Gisele knew that Nigel had just looked at her. She also knew that that look had not been a flattering one. It struck her as odd, even a little funny, that after her first shock at seeing Nigel at the bedside she just accepted his rescue as nothing so unusual. She had not wanted him to risk himself by trying to save her, or even thought that he would after she had deserted him, yet it did not completely surprise her that he was there, dragging her along a dark hallway toward freedom. Her thoughts were cut short when Nigel stopped, and a moment later George bumped into them.

  "We are there?” asked George.

  "We are where?” she asked.

  "At the end of Sir Vachel's little hiding place,” Nigel replied as he inched open the door and peered out to make sure that no one was there to see them leave a place they should not even know about.

  "He sleeps in this dark, dank hall?"

  "Nay, there is a passage or two off this one. His wee bed is probably down one of them.” Nigel looked at Gisele and grimaced. “It would have been easier to get ye out of here if they hadnae taken your laddie's clothes away."

  "Wait here,” George said as he slipped past them and out the door.

  "Are you certain you can trust that man?” Gisele asked as Nigel pulled the door shut enough to hide them, leaving a bit of room for the light to shine in.

  "Now I am. I had my doubts at first. No longer. He may not be the bravest and most honorable of men, but he didnae like what was going to be done to you. I think he even had a few doubts about your guilt after ye met him sword to sword."

  She was glad the light was too dim to see well, for she could feel herself blush. “I do not know how well I did, for I was stopped before any true test of my skill occurred."

  "He seemed to think ye were verra good. Ah, George,” he greeted the man when he returned and handed them a cape. “Not only clever, but a good thief, I am thinking."

  Gisele saw George frown, and patted him on the arm. “He means that as a great compliment."

  The moment she was wrapped in the cape they all slipped out of the passage. Until Nigel signaled him that they could go on alone, George led them through all the confusing twists and turns. Gisele said nothing as Nigel led her the rest of the way through the keep, flattening herself against the walls and ducking into corners each time he did. Her heart began to pound so hard and fast when they entered the baily that she was afraid the people around them would hear it.

  Suddenly they
were outside the gates. Gisele felt a little dizzy that it had happened so fast. She could tell from the tension in Nigel's lean body that he shared her urge to run, but they ambled along toward the small wood as if they had nothing to fear. The moment they were in the shelter of the trees, she sat down on the ground, her legs too weak to hold her upright any longer. Her whole body shook, and she realized that a lot of her calm had been hard wrung, a facade even to her.

  George arrived a few moments later and greedily accepted the drink of wine Nigel offered him. “I believe that will be the last honorable deed I do for a great while,” George said, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

  "Ye did weel, George,” Nigel said as he took hold of the reins of Gisele's horse. “I am glad ye were able to get this fool beast back."

  "His lordship was not yet aware that he had gained a mount,” George explained as he handed Nigel what was left of the money he had given him. “His stablemaster was more than pleased to let it go and pocket the coin."

  "If, somehow, they guess that ye had aught to do with this and ye feel a need to leave this land, ye are welcome on mine. The Murrays of Donncoill. Ye will find how to reach us in Perth. In most any port, in truth, for we deal in some trading."

  George nodded his gratitude, then sent Gisele a small smile before quickly riding away. Still weak, Gisele allowed Nigel to help her on her horse. She ached to rest, to lie down and close her eyes and pretend the horror of the last few hours had never happened, but she knew it was important for them to get away. Vachel was not dead, and when the man woke he would not be in a good temper. As she followed Nigel out of the little wood, she suspected that all she had accomplished with her bid for freedom was to make sure that the hunt for them would grow even more determined.

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