Highland Honor. Hannah Howell

nose that had somehow escaped the battering most knights suffered from, a strong chin, and a temptingly shaped mouth that Gisele was certain had lured many a woman to taste its soft warmth. She was surprised at how saddened she was to see the beginning signs of dissipation, the lines drawn by too much wine and quite probably an overindulgence in the pleasures of the flesh. She had seen such lines on her husband’s face. What troubles could this strong, handsome Scot have which caused him to wallow in wine and women?

      His gaze met hers, and Gisele flushed. She had been staring at him too hard and too long, and he had finally noticed. Gisele quickly looked away, embarrassed. It took her a moment to compose herself and revive her anger over his ill-placed amusement. When she looked back at him he was smiling crookedly, and Gisele had to fight to hold onto her annoyance.

      “Since I have only now assumed this guise, might you tell me how you know about it?” she demanded.

      “I was also down at the river.”

      “Merde,” she muttered, and glared at him when he laughed. “So, you are a spy.”

      “Nay. I am but a mon who occasionally likes to be clean.”

      She decided to ignore that piece of levity and stepped out from behind Guy. “If you are not hunting me, then of what interest is it to you how I dress or what I might try to be?”

      “Curiosity is a strong force.”

      “And you are a big, strong knight. Fight it.”

      “Gisele,” Guy hissed, elbowing his cousin in the side. “We should find out what he wants before you hone your tongue on his hide,” he said in French.

      “I can speak French,” Nigel murmured in French, and grinned when both the cousins glared at him.

      “Appallingly,” Gisele said, then cursed when Guy nudged her again.

      “I know you, do I not?” Guy asked, frowning at Nigel.

      “Only by sight.” Nigel bowed slightly. “Sir Nigel Murray.”

      “Sir Guy Lucette. My cousin, Gisele DeVeau. Do you mean to expose our deception? Or do you seek some recompense to hold fast to our secret?”

      “How ye wound me.” Nigel was not insulted, understanding that his actions invited suspicion. “I swear upon my clan’s honor ’tis only curiosity which prompts me to intrude.”

      “Such blind obedience to curiosity could easily get you killed,” Guy said even as he sheathed his sword. “I fear it must go unsated this time.”

      “Must it?”

      “Yes,” snapped Gisele. “This is not your concern. Not your business at all.”

      “And ye feel no need for help? For another sword protecting your backs?” Nigel noticed that Guy frowned, obviously considering his words, but Gisele showed no such hesitation.

      “This is a family matter, sir,” she said. “We need no help.”

      “Nay? Your deception has only just begun, yet I have discovered it.”

      “Only because you were spying on us.”

      “Mayhap I was not the only one,” he said softly, trying to make her understand the import of his discovery and his presence.

      Guy paled and Nigel nodded, glad that the young man understood. Gisele looked an intriguing mixture of nervous and angry. Good sense should tell them that they were sorely in need of some help, but Nigel knew a lot of things could stand in the way of doing what good sense dictated. They did not know him except by sight, and thus had no reason to trust in him. There was also the problem of pride, something he suspected the cousins had a hefty dose of. Pride would stop them from admitting that they needed any help. Nigel could only hope that neither caution nor pride held them captive for too long.

      “I believe we would have noticed if the wood around us teemed with spies,” muttered Gisele, and she grimaced when Guy yet again gently nudged her in a punitive manner.

      “Sir Murray, I understand what you are trying to tell us,” Guy said, hastily glaring Gisele into silence when she started to speak. “We shall certainly be much more careful, watch our backs more closely.”

      “But ye refuse my help.”

      “I must. This is not your trouble. It would be discourteous to pull you into the midst of our difficulties.”

      “Even if I am willing to be pulled into the midst of them?”

      “Just so.”

      Nigel shrugged. “As ye wish.”

      “We do thank you most heartily for your kind concern.”

      “We?” said Gisele, but Nigel just smiled and Guy ignored her interruption.

      “Despite your courteous refusal of my aid,” Nigel said, “be assured that it still stands. Ye ken where to find me if you change your mind.”

      Nigel bowed slightly and left. Only feet from Guy’s tent he stopped and looked back. He briefly considered sneaking back and lurking around the tent to listen to what was said, then shook his head. They would be more cautious now, would whisper and guard their words, making eavesdropping impossible. He could only wait and pray that they sought his aid before whatever threat they feared caught up with them.

      “That may have been a mistake,” Guy said softly as he secured the flaps of his tent.

      “We do not need the Scotsman’s help,” Gisele said as she sat down on a small, blanket-covered chest.

      “Such confidence you have in my ability to keep you safe.” Guy sat down by the small, rock encircled pit in the middle of the dirt floor and began to make a fire.

      “You are most skilled and highly honored as a knight.”

      “Thank you for that accolade, but my reputation, meager as it is, has been earned in battle, in honorable combat. This is different. I am all that stands between you and a veritable horde of vengeful DeVeaux and their hirelings, none of whom are known for acting honorably. Another sword could be helpful.”

      “We do not know if he means to use that sword to help us or to prod us into the hands of our enemies. The Scotsman could well be one of those DeVeau hirelings.”

      Guy shook his head. “I cannot believe that.”

      “You do not know the man.”

      “True, but neither have I heard ill of him. We should not discard him completely.”

      Gisele inwardly cursed and rubbed her hands over her newly shorn hair. She could not believe Sir Murray meant them any harm, but feared her opinion was formed by the man’s fine face and beautiful eyes. Guy admitting to feeling the same trust in the man only lessened her unease a little. She had been running and hiding for too long to trust easily, even in her own opinions. Some of her own kinsmen believed the accusations against her, had turned their backs on her, so why should some stranger from a strange land offer to help? And would he still offer once he learned why the DeVeaux hunted her, or how much they were offering for her capture?

      “Then we will not discard him completely,” she finally said, “but neither will we blindly accept him as our friend.”

      “Sometimes one can be too cautious, cousin.”

      “True, but do not forget why I am in hiding. Sir Murray may not be so friendly or so ready to aid us when he learns the reason for our caution and this deception.” She smiled faintly. “Many a man finds it difficult to forgive a woman who kills her husband.”

      “But you did not kill him.”

      “The DeVeaux believe I did, as do some of our own kinsmen. Why should a stranger believe me over all of them?” She nodded when Guy grimaced and softly cursed. “We will watch and make our decision about the Scotsman with care.”

      “Agreed.