Highland Honor. Hannah HowellЧитать онлайн книгу.
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 were 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