Highland Honor (11 page)

“Oh, aye, sweeting, ye have wit, more than some men would find becoming in a lass. I rather like it. Nay, I just dinnae think ye could be that devious and, even if all of your reasons were good and honorable, as I said, ye have far too much pride.”

Gisele suddenly realized that, as he had talked, he had removed all of her clothes except for her shirt. She knew she had been paying close heed to his words and had been lulled by his stroking hands, but it still seemed unsettlingly skillful of the man. Then she thought of how and where he had gained such expertise. She was about to take as a lover a man who had, in his own words, used a large number of women, women she doubted he could recall by name or face. Although Gisele was not demanding love and marriage for her favors, she was not sure she wanted them taken too lightly.

“You disrobe a woman with an admirable skill and speed,” she murmured.

“Ah, and ye dinnae really find it admirable, do ye?” He began to slowly unlace her shirt.

“Perhaps not.”

“My poor bonny Gisele,” he murmured as he brushed a kiss over her lips and slid his hand inside of her shirt. “Aye, I was a heartless, rutting bastard for seven years. I am nay sure I learned this particular skill during that time, however. To my shame, I was also drunk most of that time. I think some of what ye see as my skill comes from the fact that ye are wearing clothes much like I wore for most of my youth.”

“Oh.” Gisele was not sure if her breathy response was an expression of agreement or delight, for he was moving his big, lightly calloused hands over her breasts, brushing the tips to a tingling hardness with his thumb. “I just did not wish to be another body tossed upon that heap. I ask for no bonds or promises. I just do not wish to be a nothing. I have been that once, and never wish to be such a thing again.”

“Ye could never be a nothing, Gisele,” he whispered against the silken, soft skin of her breast, savoring the way she trembled beneath his caress.

Gisele thrust her hands into his thick, long hair, holding him close as he covered her breasts with warm kisses. A touch had never felt so good, certainly not a man's. She doubted her fear would rear its ugly head, for her husband had never made her feel this way, and his touch had never been gentle. Gisele could not believe she could be so blind or foolish as to ever compare Nigel to her brute of a husband. One simply did not make her think of the other, unless it was to praise God that she was now with Nigel.

When Nigel began to gently suck on one of her breasts, Gisele cried out and held him even closer. There was a great deal wrong with what she was allowing him to do, but she decided that there was far more that was right. She was finally going to discover what so many reached for and rhapsodized about, and as Nigel turned his passionate attentions to her other breast Gisele decided that discovery was worth whatever price she had to pay.

When Nigel tugged off her shirt she found the need to let go of him almost painful. The moment he tossed it aside she clung to him again and greedily returned his kiss. As long as she could hold him, she did not think, only felt, and that, she realized, was exactly how she wanted it.

He covered her body in kisses and gentle caresses, and she welcomed each one. She moved her hands over his broad back, loving the feel of his smooth, taut skin beneath her fingers. It felt almost as good to touch Nigel as it felt to have him touch her. Gisele wished she knew more, had gained some skill so that she could give Nigel as much pleasure as he was giving her.

A small interruption in her heedless revel in passion came when Nigel removed his braies. He rested his long body full against hers. Gisele felt his engorged manhood pressed against her thigh, and fought against letting even one of her dark memories intrude upon her desire, but it was difficult. Kisses and caresses had been easy to slowly accept without fear, though her husband had given her few of either, and never a gentle one. This, however, was something she recognized, something she had always associated with hurt and shame. It was going to be a little hard to make herself believe that the same part of a man which had always been used as a weapon against her could now be a source of pleasure. She feared that all the sweetness she had just tasted was about to turn very sour.

Nigel felt the faint tension in Gisele's body and fought the urge to just take her before fear could make her change her mind. It was not only wrong, but such an act could easily convince her that all of her fears were justified. There was even a chance that he could add to that fear, for it would be much akin to what her husband had subjected her to. The mere thought of such a consequence gave him the restraint he sought. He cupped her face in his hands, smiling faintly at how tightly she kept her eyes shut.

“Look at me, Gisele,” he commanded softly, and brushed a tender kiss across her mouth.

“I am not sure I wish to.”

“Come, look at me. See with your own eyes who is about to love you. If ye keep your bonny eyes shut, I fear memory may overcome fact.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, pushing her shyness aside as she recognized the wisdom of his reasoning. Her fears had been slowly coming to life, stirred by the feel of something every man possessed. She did need to put a face to the man who held her.

It angered her that she could grow so senseless with fear over something she could destroy with one quick slash of her dagger, something that was, in a battle situation, considered one of a man's weak points. If she were going to be afraid of some part of a man, it made more sense to be afraid of his hands or of his sword arm, parts that could so easily kill her. To deny that fear was foolish, however, and could easily put an end to something she was enjoying a great deal.

“There. I am looking at you,” she said, hearing the sulkiness in her voice despite the huskiness that still deepened it.

Nigel ignored her touch of ill humor, for he could still hear the passion in her voice, feel it in the faint trembling of her lithe body, and see it in the flush upon her smooth, high-boned cheeks. “Ye need not fear the manhood, lassie, only the mon who wields it.” As he spoke, he settled himself between her slim thighs.

“I know that. In my mind, I truly do know that most of the time.”

“Then keep your eyes open, my sweet French rose, so that your mind and heart can remember it. Keep them wide open, so that bastard's memory cannae rise up to destroy what we can share.”

Gisele nodded and curled her arms around his neck, keeping her gaze firmly fixed upon his face even as he covered her face with slow, gentle kisses. She tensed as he eased into her, but realized that it was more with anticipation than with fear. A soft gasp of pleasured surprise escaped her when he began to move within her, and a heartbeat later passion robbed her of all ability to think clearly. She only knew whose body was joined with hers, knew Nigel would never intentionally hurt her, and knew she wanted him to continue.

Suddenly, a rich feeling began to blossom within her, a feeling that was both wondrous and made her somewhat desperate. She clung to Nigel, wrapping her arms and legs around him. She could hear him mumbling husky words of encouragement, and then a blinding wave of intense feeling swept over her and she cried out his name. Gisele was only faintly aware of how the man she held so tightly began to move more fiercely, then tensed, shuddered, and called out to her. It was several long minutes before she realized he had slumped in her arms, resting his full weight on top of her.

“You are a little heavy,” she whispered, smiling faintly as he eased the intimacy of their embrace and moved to the side.

“Are ye all right, Gisele?” he asked in a soft voice.

It puzzled Gisele a little that she should feel so tired, so compelled to sleep, but moments after she had felt so alive. “I am much fine, thank you, Sir Nigel.”

Nigel laughed. “
Verra
fine, and dinnae ye think ye can call me simply Nigel now?”

“Then I am very fine, simply Nigel.”

He laughed again and shook his head when he saw that she was already sound asleep. Carefully, even though he doubted he could wake her, he turned onto his back and tucked her up against his side. He was eager to make love to her again, but knew that it was best if she got some sleep.

Although it felt good to know he had been the man to put her fears to rest and stir her passion, Nigel knew what moved him most was that she had willingly shared that with him. He did not fear that she would have any regrets or recriminations in the morning. Instinct told him that Gisele was not the type to suffer much from either, not when she had chosen to do something.

He would probably be the one who was suffering from doubts and uncertainties. He was already beginning to feel guilty. Nigel could not recall if he had ever found lovemaking so exciting or fulfilling, yet he could not be completely sure why that was. He certainly could not offer Gisele any promises, more than sweet words of passion and flattery, at least not until he knew his own heart better than he did now. She had said that she asked for no vows or words of love, but he felt she deserved far more than he was offering.

As he closed his eyes, Nigel decided they would linger in the glade for a little while, a day or two. He felt sure they had distanced themselves from the DeVeaux hounds enough to allow for a short respite. Perhaps, as they rested and took time to savor the passion they shared, he would be able to sort through the confusion in his mind and heart. Gisele deserved at least that much for the gift she had shared with him.

Passion drew Gisele from her sleep and thrust her into pleasure. She returned Nigel's hungry kiss as he slowly joined their bodies. Her greed for him surprised her, but she let it have full reign. It all felt too good to question. She arched her body toward his, eagerly meeting his every thrust. As her desire crested she clutched at his trim hips and pulled him deeper within her, savoring the way his cries of pleasure echoed hers.

It was not until he eased the intimacy of their embrace that she began to feel the touch of embarrassment and uncertainty. This was not the way she had been taught a young woman of good breeding should act. She was breaking so many rules, of society and of the church, that it made her head spin. There had been some excuse, albeit a thin one, for allowing the first lovemaking. She felt she could be forgiven curiosity and the need to cast aside the fears her husband had bred in her heart. Now, however, there was only one reason to continue, and that was because she enjoyed it. That carried the distasteful taint of behaving like a whore.

“Regrets?” Nigel asked, a little concerned about the dark frown growing on Gisele's still flushed face.

She finally looked at him and grimaced. “I was battling with a few.”

“And have ye vanquished them?”

“I will. When I was curious and wanted to know passion without fear, it was easier to excuse my behavior. Now I am just behaving badly.”

“I thought ye behaved verra weel,” he murmured and gave an exaggerated expression of pain when she swatted him on the arm.

“This is a serious matter for a woman. You need to treat it with more respect.” She had to smile at the way the glitter of laughter in his eyes belied his solemn expression, then she grew serious again. “You need not fear that I am about to turn against you and claim all manner of unjust things, trying to blame you for all that has happened.”

“I ne'er really feared that. Ye are a sensible lass, and a fair one.”

“I am certain most women are.”

Nigel said nothing, just smiled faintly and let her believe he agreed with her. That was not an argument he wanted to get into. To support his side of it he would have to tell her about women he had known, and this was a bad time to remind her of his less than illustrious past.

“So, what troubles ye, then?” He smoothed a finger down the faint crease of a frown forming between her eyes.

“I just began to think of all the rules I am breaking.”

“No more than many another has, and will.”

“That does not make it right or acceptable,” she said sternly.

“Nay, of course it doesnae, but this doesnae make ye the greatest of sinners, either.” He was a little concerned that she was about to turn righteous on him and demand that he never touch her again. Although he did not think Gisele would behave that way, he could not fully discard the possibility.

“I know that,” she said, then sighed and shook her head. “I will overcome this sudden attack of guilt over my own irresponsible behavior. It will just take a little while. Before I said yes I reminded myself that I will be accused of just this sort of thing because of the way I have lived for the last year. No one will believe otherwise no matter what I say or do, so what matter if I actually do it? I will just remind myself of that from time to time.”

“Such flattery. I am overcome with humility.”

She tried to scowl at him, barely repressing the urge to laugh. “You are a scoundrel.”

“Aye, quite possibly.”

Gisele suddenly realized that the sun was already climbing in the sky, and frowned. “We are getting a late start today, are we not?”

“We are not going to get any start today at all,” he said as he rose from his bed and pulled on his clothes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that we are taking a much earned rest.”

“Do you think the DeVeaux are resting?”

“Probably not, but they are nowhere about.”

She began to tug on her clothes, using the blanket as a shield for her modesty. “I hate to question you on this, but are you very certain about that?”

“As certain as I can be without tracking them down and finding out exactly where they are. Lass, we are very near the port I seek. I believe that the DeVeaux are there, waiting for us. They are not here. Of that I am sure. I also intend to take myself into the wood and set up a few traps, something to warn us just in case they do wander too close to our little sanctuary.”

Gisele watched him disappear into the wood and slowly rose to put their bedding away. It would be nice to spend a quiet day, a day without riding and looking over her shoulder. She was just not sure it was wise. The fact that Nigel was going to surround them with traps made her feel only a little more secure.

She shook her head and silently scolded herself. Nigel knew what he was doing. Perhaps, because she had spent so long running and hiding, she simply did not know how to stop and rest anymore. It would do them both good to just rest, to enjoy a lazy day in the sun.

As she slipped away into the trees for a moment of privacy, she had to smile. She was sure that Nigel had plans for them that did not necessarily include rest. Gisele had no doubt about his passion for her, even though she might question its depth and longevity. She would be very surprised if the man did not have plans to further explore the desire they shared.

A brief pang of guilt plucked at her heart and mind, but she forced it away. She had chosen her path, and she would stay with it. There were worse crimes she could have committed. She would pay her penance later. Even if she had to spend months on her knees saying her rosary, the passion she shared with Nigel was worth it.

Once back at the campsite, she went to the pond, removed her boots, and dangled her feet in the cold water. Her thoughts turned to Nigel, and she realized that she was probably not going to be able to just savor the passion and then leave when her name was cleared and she was free. Already questions formed in her mind about the future, and she knew that she had no answers, that, quite possibly, there were none. Not with him. Even now, after only one night in his arms, that realization stung. Doing a long, hard penance might well be the smallest of her worries.

“Idiot,” she scolded herself, and kicked at the water.

“Talking to yourself?” asked a deep, familiar voice from right behind her.

Gisele screeched in surprise, barely kept herself from falling into the pond, and spun around to glare at Nigel. “One of these times you are going to frighten me so much my poor heart shall stop dead in my chest.”

He laughed and sat down beside her. “Why were ye calling yourself an idiot?”

“Because I cannot seem to just take my ease and enjoy a day with nothing to do.” She stared at the water as she answered him, a little afraid that he would read her evasion in her face.

“It is long past time that ye had a rest, loving.”

“Mayhap, but I have been running and hiding for so long it just feels wrong.”

“Then we must keep ye busy so that ye cannae think on it too much.”

“Keep me busy?” She eyed him with a touch of suspicion as he stood up and held out his hand.

“Now, lass, ye must trust me and cease questioning my motives.” He pulled her into his arms and gave her a brief, hard kiss. “Did ye not ask me to teach ye how to walk softly?”

Gisele smiled and nodded. “I will confess that I may be envious of how you can do that, and that is why I wish to learn the skill. Howbeit, I am also thinking it is a much—” she hesitated, then corrected herself—“
very
useful skill. There is no knowing how long I will have to remain hidden, is there?”

“It will end soon.”

“How can you be so certain of that?”

“Your kinsmen now work to get ye free of this.”

“But if, as you believe, I killed my husband, how can they release me from that accusation? DeVeau was a rich, powerful man with connections to the king himself. Few would dismiss my crime simply because they felt the man deserved to die. Few would think my killing him was justice just because he treated me so poorly.”

“Put your boots on.”

Gisele smiled faintly as she did as he ordered. “You have not answered me.”

“Ye try to trick me with questions that are difficult to answer and with clever assumptions.”

“Perhaps.”

“There is no perhaps about it. If I respond one way, ye hear me admit that I think ye are guilty. If I answer in another way, then ye can say that I think ye are innocent. Since I have yet to decide, 'tis best if I dinnae answer at all.”

She cursed softly as she stood up and scowled at him. “
Oui
, I try to get you to proclaim me one or the other, guilty or innocent. We have been together for a week, and knew each other for a week before that, but you still have not decided? Do you truly believe me capable of such bloodthirstiness?
Oui
, simply killing him, that I might have done. There were many times when I ached to do so. But I would never have desecrated his body in such a manner, no matter how much I loathed that part of the man. I certainly would never have tortured him, mutilating him first and then killing him.”

Nigel was not sure why he could not just agree that she was innocent, especially since he was beginning to think she was. He decided that he just needed some more proof, no matter how he felt about her. His indecision was aided by the feeling that no woman could or should be faulted for killing such a man. It was, in many ways, self-defense.

“Aye, I do find it hard to believe that ye could disfigure a mon. Why do ye ne'er call your husband by his name, his full name? Ye always call him DeVeau.”

Gisele felt as if she were banging her head against a very hard wall, but decided to just give up on the argument. It only made her angry, and now she realized that his doubt also hurt. Badgering the man to proclaim her innocence would also ruin what could be a very nice day, and she needed one.

“His name was Michael,” she said, not surprised to hear a hint of anger still lingering in her voice. It would take a few minutes for her to regain her calm. “I called him by that name once, at our wedding. After our wedding night, I called him only DeVeau to his face, and many unkind things when he could not hear me. I did call him some rougher names to his face, but only a few times in the beginning, for the beatings I got quickly taught me some discretion.”

He hugged her in a brief expression of sympathy, and inwardly cursed DeVeau. It was such tales, however, that made him hesitant to completely believe her claim of total innocence. Gisele was a proud woman, spirited, and she possessed a temper. At some point in her marriage, the humiliation and brutality DeVeau meted out could have driven her to kill him. There was also the chance that, horrified by what she had done, she had simply cast the memory from her mind. He just wished that his indecision did not upset her as it did.

“You were going to teach me how to walk quietly, how to slip through the wood like a ghost,” she reminded him as she stepped out of his hold.

Nigel smiled faintly and carefully explained the way one had to walk to make each step quiet. “Ye must train yourself to walk toe to heel, rolling your wee foot down even as ye start to do the same with the other foot. What ye are trying to do is nay set too much weight on any part of your foot as ye walk.”

“Am I to float above the ground like some spirit?”

He just laughed and took her by the hand. “It can be difficult to explain. Watch me closely, and do as I do.”

Gisele tried, again and again. She could see how he moved, but found that it was hard to imitate. When she finally stumbled over a half-buried tree root because she was paying more attention to how to walk than to where she was walking, she quit and sat down on the soft grass. Cursing softly over her embarrassing clumsiness, she rubbed her aching legs.

“Ye didnae do too badly, lass,” Nigel said as he sat down next to her.

“Empty flattery. I was terrible, and my legs hurt.”

“Aye, they will until ye learn the trick of it. Ye were close a time or two.”

“Close, but I moved so slowly that a man hobbled in both legs could have run me down.” She smiled faintly when he laughed. “This is not a trick one can learn quickly or easily.”

“Nay. I was taught when I was just a small lad, and e'en though the young can learn quickly, it was a long, long time ere I could do it right and without thought.”

“And just why would you be taught such a skill? You are a mounted knight.”

“Aye, but I could lose my mount, or a horse can become a hindrance if I am on a raid where stealth is necessary.” He leaned closer to her and began to kiss the side of her neck.

“A raid?” She did nothing to stop him as he gently pushed her down onto the grass. “Thievery.”

“Weel, aye, there is a wee bit of that.”

Her soft laughter was stopped by his hungry kiss. As he began to tug her clothes off, she was briefly concerned about doing something so intimate in the full light of day, and in the open on the grass. Then he started to kiss her breasts, and she decided she did not care. Tentatively, she began to help Nigel shed his clothes as well, and when he revealed only approval of her aid, she grew bolder.

Once they were both naked, Nigel moved so that she was on top of his clothes, her soft skin protected from the ground. As he kissed and caressed her, Gisele moved her hands over his strong body with increasing daring. Cautiously, she slid her hand down his stomach and, after taking a deep breath to steady herself, touched his erection. When he gasped and jerked beneath her shy touch, she started to pull her hand away, but he quickly put it back.

Although shocked by her own boldness, Gisele stroked him. Nigel had shown her that this part of a man could bring pleasure, and she realized that knowledge had roused her curiosity. The way Nigel's breathing grew fast and unsteady, the faint tremor that began to ripple through his lean body, told her that he liked her touch, and that made her even more curious. Then, suddenly, Nigel tugged her hand away, and Gisele feared that she had grown too bold or had even caused him some pain.