She had almost convinced herself of that when Donncoill finally loomed into sight. It was an impressive if unfinished keep. Gisele knew that when the building was done it would rival many in France. Nigel was not going home to some poor, small tower like others she had seen in their journey, but to a strong demanse that any man should be proud of. Yet the closer they got, the slower his pace. She got the distinct feeling that Nigel would turn and run if he could find any sound reason to do so. That made no sense to her, and she ached to stop, drag him from his horse, and demand that he tell her exactly what was troubling him.
The greeting they got as they rode through the high iron gates was as hearty a welcome as any man could want. Even that did not fully lighten Nigel's somber expression. As he helped her down from her horse she had to bite her tongue to keep from demanding to know what troubled him so. Gisele did not like surprises, and she had the growing suspicion that she was about to suffer a very large and extremely unpleasant one.
A big man who seemed to be all different shades of browns grabbed Nigel as he stepped inside the door of the keep and hugged him tightly. That loving greeting was swiftly repeated by an older man and then a smiling, beautiful youth. If Nigel had feared that he would not be welcome or that his family would have become distant, that fear had soundly been put to rest. When he turned to take her by the hand, however, she got one clear look into his eyes and felt her blood chill. He was still uncertain, almost afraid. She suddenly did not want to know what had put that look in his eyes, and fought the sudden urge to turn and run from Donncoill. If something made Nigel afraid, she felt no shame in being terrified by it. She just wished she knew what it was.
She responded to everyone's polite greeting as she was introduced to Nigel's brothers Balfour and Eric, and the man James. The way the men were looking at her and then at Nigel made her nervous. It was as if they all shared some dark secret.
"Nigel,” called a sweet voice, and all the men turned to look at the woman hurrying down the stairs.
Gisele watched as the woman greeted Nigel with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to her. She could feel everyone staring at her, but did not care. All of her attention was on the woman Nigel was introducing as his brother Balfour's wife, Maldie. It was hard not to shudder as she felt her blood turn to ice in her veins.
There was no ignoring the similarities between herself and Maldie. As Gisele noted each one she felt sicker and sicker. Her heart began to clench so tightly in her chest she found each breath painful. She knew this was the woman Nigel had run from, but that was not the reason she felt such agony ripping away at her insides.
Maldie was a little older than she, and very big with child, but that was about all that kept them from looking as if they had emerged from the same womb. Maldie had the same thick, black hair she did, the same deep green eyes, and was almost exactly the same size and height. All this time, while she had been falling in love with the man and wondering if she could ever get him to care about her, while they had been lovers greedily indulging their passion all the way across France and Scotland, Nigel had not even truly seen her. He had used her. Not sure she could win his heart, she had found some comfort in knowing that his passion and his companionship had been hers for a while, that she would at least be a sweet memory. She had been a complete fool. He had not been making love to Gisele DeVeau, but his brother's wife.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Twenty-two
"You should have told me, Nigel,” Gisele said quietly, wanting to rage at him but knowing this was not the time nor the place to do so. “It was most unkind of you not to."
"Gisele—” he began.
This was worse than he had imagined. He had not seen her look so stricken since he had watched her try to scrub away Vachel DeVeau's touch. Nigel ached to smooth that look from her face, to put the life back into her eyes, but he feared he had just lost all chance of doing so. And, sadly, he now knew he wanted that chance, that he wanted her and no one else. It had taken just one look at Maldie to know, without doubt, that nothing remained of the feelings he had once had for her. He no longer loved Maldie, and probably had not for a very long time. He loved Gisele, the woman who was now looking at him as if he were the lowest, cruelest man she had ever met. Not telling her about Maldie may have been the biggest and most costly mistake he had ever made.
"Non.” She shied away from his touch when he reached for her. “It is too late."
She felt so torn up inside that she was surprised she was not bleeding all over the fresh rushes beneath her feet. The tense, discomforted looks on the faces of Nigel's family helped her to subdue her pain, although she knew it would be a short-lived respite. That amount of hurt would not allow itself to be ignored for too long. Nigel's family did not deserve to be witness to it, however, nor did she want to bare her soul before them. She certainly did not want to bare it before Nigel. If there were going to be any discussion or consequence of Nigel's heartlessness, he could suffer them alone. He certainly deserved to. She needed to go somewhere where she could be alone, to try to deal with the emotions churning inside of her.
"It is an honor to meet you all,” she said, pleased that her voice sounded calm, if a little strained. “However, if I may impose upon your kindness, I would really like a room. I need to wash the dust of travel away and get some rest."
"Of course ye do,” said Maldie, stepping forward. After sending Nigel a sharp, angry look that promised severe retribution, she took Gisele by the arm and urged her toward a plump, aging woman standing at the foot of the stairs. “Margaret, please take the Lady Gisele to a room and see that she has all she needs."
Nigel finally pulled free of his shock and indecision, but when he moved to follow Gisele up the stairs, Maldie firmly blocked his way. “I need to talk to Gisele."
He briefly considered just moving Maldie out of the way, then glanced down at her swollen belly. Balfour would not appreciate him handling his wife that way. Nigel also had the suspicion that she was right to stop him. Gisele would not wish to hear a word he had to say at the moment, and he was not quite sure of what he wanted or needed to tell her. She might enjoy hearing him beg for forgiveness, but it would not be enough to ease the sense of betrayal she must be feeling.
"Ye needed to talk to her long before this, I am thinking,” Maldie snapped. Grabbing him by the arm, she pushed him toward the great hall. “Now, ye will talk to us."
When did Maldie become the laird of Donncoill?” Nigel asked, glancing at his brothers and James as Maldie herded the four of them toward the head table in the great hall, pausing only to order a page to bring them all some food.
James smiled faintly as he sat down across from Nigel. “I suspect it wasnae long after she first rode through these gates. We were just a wee bit slow to see that we had lost the power.” He then gave the younger man a stern look. “I think ye havenae accounted yourself well in this, laddie."
Maldie gave out a sharp, derisive noise as she took her seat on Balfour's right. “I think he has behaved like a bastard, and probably a big fool,” she said, ignoring the murmurs of protest from Nigel's brothers and James. “But, ere we tear that bone apart, mayhap ye can tell us just who our guest is, and why she has traveled all this way."
After briefly considering running from the room, Nigel took a deep breath and related Gisele's story. He only hesitated a moment before also telling them what he knew about her time with the brutal Michael DeVeaux. These people would never betray her confidences. By the time he was through he had no doubt that they would put all the strength of Donncoill between Gisele and the DeVeaux. Nigel just wished she were there to see their determination for herself.
"And when did ye decide she hadnae killed the mon?” asked James, idly filling his plate with some of the food the page had brought.
Nigel stared at the man, wondering how he could have forgotten James's ability to see straight to the heart. “It took me a wee while. I didnae fault her for killing the bastard, a
s I could see why she would be driven to do it. Then, when she insisted on learning how to use a sword, there came the moment when I saw clearly that the lass couldnae kill a mon. Oh, she might do it if there was a true threat to her life or mine, as was proven the day I was wounded. But to murder and mutilate a mon when he was drunk nearly senseless? Nay, she could ne'er do that, no matter how much the bastard deserved it. I think it was the kinsmen of some lass he took and probably beat half to death."
"If Gisele's kinsmen prove her innocent, it may mean that those people pay dearly for what was no more than justice,” Balfour said.
"Aye,” Nigel agreed reluctantly, “but at least they are the true killers. If someone else isnae shown to have done the deed, then an innocent lass will pay for it with her life. In truth, I believe they deserve punishment for saying naught when she was accused, and continuing to do naught while she was running and hiding for a year."
"There is that,” agreed Balfour.
"And now, may we talk about the newest crime done to that lass?” demanded Maldie, glaring at Nigel.
"Loving, he has saved that lass's life,” Balfour said quietly, gently patting Maldie on the hand.
"I ken it, and for that he should be praised, although I suspect he may not have had the purest of motives at the beginning. All that doesnae matter. I find this hard to say, but we all ken why ye left seven years ago. Now ye return bringing a lass who looks enough like me to be my sister. I truly hope, nay, pray, that ye havenae—” She stuttered to a halt, unable to put the thought into words.
Balfour looked at his brother “Ye havenae used the wee lass that way, have ye, Nigel?"
Nigel grimaced, then almost smiled at the way they all tried so hard not to say exactly what they thought. “Nay, I havenae tried to replace the woman I wanted with that poor girl.” He saw Maldie wince, and felt honestly sorry that she was discomforted by the discussion, but at least this once they had to speak the blunt ugly truth.
"Are ye sure, Nigel?” asked Eric, his almost pretty face solemn. “If we can see the likeness, ye cannae say ye didnae."
"Oh, aye, I saw it. Even with her hair cut short, even in lad's clothes which she wore for most of our flight across France, and even with that odd little way she speaks our language. Aye, I saw it verra clearly, and it has troubled me every step of the way. Each time I thought I kenned what I felt for the lass, I found myself doubting it. How could I not?"
"Ye should have told her. E'en if ye had to confess to your own confusion, ye should have told her."
"Lad, we have e'er admired your honesty, and wish we could be as quick to speak the truth as ye are, but sometimes it just isnae that simple."
"Ye are lovers. The lass has kenned a lot of betrayal in the last year or so. By nay telling her, ye have added to that in her mind. She had no word of warning from you, no hint that ye were torn in your feelings, and yet I suspect she kenned ye had left this land because of a woman. And so, she comes here thinking her lover is taking her to a place where she might find safety and peace, and what does she find? His ghosts. The moment she set eyes upon our Maldie, she kenned who ye had left, why ye had left, and quite quickly decided why ye took up with her."
"Eric is right,” Maldie said quietly. “Ye let her come to this place with nay a word of explanation, nay a word to give her some feeling that all ye have shared during your time together meant anything to you. Even if she had convinced herself that ye cared in some small way, it was all proven false when she saw me. Nigel, think. The lass must feel something for you, as she allowed ye to become her lover despite all the hurt and betrayal she has suffered. Who kens what she had decided in her mind, but I doubt she ever thought she was just being used as some replacement for the one ye wanted. And I can promise ye, that is what she is thinking right now. She is feeling like the greatest of fools."
"'Tis clear ye decided that wasnae how it was ere ye got here,” said Balfour. “So, why didnae ye tell her that? If ye had, all ye would have to do now is soothe a few doubts."
"I didnae ken it for sure until I was here, until I actually saw Maldie and Gisele together,” he answered quietly.
"Jesu,” Maldie softly cursed. “Ye waited until ye could compare us?"
"Nay, it wasnae quite that base. It was the only way I could clear away the last of my confusion. I couldnae hurt her by telling her what might well have turned out to be lies.” He grimaced in self-disgust. “Instead, I remained silent, and have probably hurt her in a far worse way."
"Do ye want the lass?” asked James.
Nigel smiled crookedly. “Aye, I want the lass."
"Then ye are going to have to woo her."
"James, I dinnae think she will allow me to come within sight of her. ‘Twill be verra hard to woo her from a distance."
"She has to stay here. She has nowhere to go, and people are looking for her to fit a noose about her bonny neck. It may not be easy to get her to sit and listen, but that is what ye must do. Now ye must tell her the whole truth, and ye have to show her that ye want her and her alone. Come, lad, ye have ne'er had trouble with the lasses before. If ye put your mind to it, I think ye can win this one. ‘Twill take time, but isnae she worth it?"
"Oh, aye, she is. I am just not sure she will think I am worth anything after this."
Gisele sprawled on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, her hands clenched tightly at her side. She had bathed, eaten the food brought to her even though it tasted like sour ashes in her mouth, and donned the crisp, clean, linen nightdress set out on the bed by Margaret. There was nothing left for her to do, nothing left for her to try to distract herself with. She was completely alone with her thoughts, and she desperately wished she was not.
Deciding there was no point in fighting the strong urge to weep, she gave in to it. She turned onto her stomach and sobbed into the soft pillows until there were no more tears left, her eyes empty and stinging. To her dismay, it left her exhausted but not enough so that she fell right to sleep. Nor did it completely dim the pain.
She still found it hard to believe that Nigel had betrayed her. Despite the proof she had seen with her own eyes, there was still one foolish part of her that wanted to believe she was wrong, that there was some good explanation for it. He was the first person, aside from kinsmen, that she had trusted in a very long while. It was very hard to accept that she had been utterly wrong to do so.
He had used her, and she would be an even greater fool if she did not accept that harsh fact. She looked almost exactly like the woman he loved and could not have. Even if she could swallow her pride and accept that, it would be hard to do so when that woman was such a part of his life. One could not live a lie if the truth were right there to see every day. He would never be able to remove himself completely from the object of his yearning, either, not unless he cut himself completely off from his family. That she knew he would never do.
A soft rap at the door drew her attention, and she quickly sat up and wiped her eyes as the door slowly opened. She was both relieved and disappointed that it was Maldie and not Nigel who cautiously entered. Part of her wanted to never set eyes on Nigel again, but another part of her ached for him to come crawling to her, begging forgiveness and clearly explaining everything. She prayed he had not sent someone else to do the job for him.
"Dinnae look so suspicious, Lady Gisele,” Maldie said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “My husband's idiot of a brother doesnae even ken that I am here."
"I will leave in the morning,” Gisele said, a little surprised at her words but realizing that the decision had been made the moment she had seen what a fool she had been.
"Nay, ye cannae leave. Ye have nowhere to go, and ye are in danger. Donncoill may be the last place ye wish to be right now, but ‘tis the safest."
"I could return to France,” she said, and cursed the reluctance she could hear in her voice.
"And hang. That is no answer to all of this mess, although I think ye may be hurting enough to believe hanging couldn
ae be any worse. I ken the feeling. I endured it ere Balfour and I had the wit to realize we needed to be together. Well, I realized it first, but women are often much smarter than men in such matters."
"Nigel and I cannot be together."
Maldie reached out and gently clasped Gisele's hand in hers. “I am no threat to ye. I have ne'er loved anyone but Balfour, and ne'er will.” She smoothed her other hand over her swollen belly. “We breed our third child and, praise God, we will breed more."
"I do not fear you, m'lady, nor do I place the blame for this on your shoulders. That does not change the fact that you are the woman Nigel loves. That I look like you is the only reason I am even here, the only reason he felt even the basest of emotion for me.” Gisele took a deep breath to steady herself, for just saying the words was like twisting a knife in an open wound.
"Aye, Nigel left here because he wanted me and kenned that I would ne'er return his feelings. He feared he would cause trouble for me and Balfour, or that in some way the situation would slowly push him and his brother apart. That is true no longer. I have ne'er been sure it was true, even back then. I am not the woman Nigel loves, not now, and mayhap not for a verra long time."
"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."
Highland Honor [Murray Brothers Book 2] Page 27
