Highland Honor. Hannah Howell

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СКАЧАТЬ did not realize that his actions toward Gisele gave away her identity as a woman far more quickly than any good, hard look would.

      “There is no need of that,” Nigel said in English, praying that they understood his language, for his French was so heavily accented that few could figure out what he was saying when he tried to use it. He held his hands out to the side slightly to show that he had no intention of drawing his weapon.

      “No? Why have you thrust yourself into our presence if you mean no harm?” Guy demanded.

      Pushing aside a brief pang of envy over the proof that Guy could speak English far better than he could speak French, Nigel looked at Gisele, who watched him closely from behind Guy’s broad back. She had wide, beautiful eyes of a green so true that he had only seen it once before.

      “’Tis most odd that your page doesnae draw a sword and stand at your side,” Nigel drawled, laughing softly when Guy’s dark eyes widened briefly and the youth softly cursed. “Ye can make a lass look like a laddie, at least to those who but glance quickly, but ’tis verra hard to remember to treat her as one.”

      Gisele felt the chill of fear, then grew confused. Her first thought had been that this handsome Scot had been hired by the DeVeaux, but there was no threat to see in his beguiling smile or relaxed stance. Although it took her a moment to see beyond the beauty of his dark, amber eyes, she could see only amusement and curiosity there. That look began to annoy her, for she could see no cause for amusement in her dire situation, nor was it something that some bored knight should be interfering in just to ease a sense of ennui. Her very life hung in the balance.

      Despite her growing anger and the Scot’s untidy appearance, she was unable to ignore his fine looks. He was tall, and built with a lean, graceful strength, something revealed very clearly by the way his wet clothes clung to his powerful body. His hair was also wet, hanging in curling tendrils past his broad shoulders, but enough of it had dried to show that the golden color in his eyes was carried through into his hair. His face held her gaze for a long time. He looked exhausted and had not scraped the beard from his face for several days, but he was still one of the most handsome men she had ever set eyes on. He had high cheekbones, a long, straight 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. СКАЧАТЬ