Highland Honor. Hannah Howell

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СКАЧАТЬ 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. I but pray that the DeVeaux do not find us first.”

      Two

      “Most pages dinnae wear such bonny amulets.”

      Gisele cursed, shoved her garnet-encrusted locket back inside her jupon, and glared at the grinning Scotsman as she hefted her sack of wood over her shoulder. She did her best to ignore his beautiful smile as she started to walk through the wood, back toward Guy’s tent. It had been one full week since Sir Murray had intruded upon her secret. The man had shadowed her every move. She was constantly bumping into him, seeing that alluring grin at every turn. Gisele was not sure what annoyed her more, his persistence or her unshakable attraction to the rogue.

      “Do ye want some help with that kindling?” Nigel asked as he fell into step by her side.

      “Non,” she snapped, irritated that she was unable to walk faster than he could. “Have you not considered the chance that all of your attention to me could rouse some suspicion?”

      “Aye, but I dinnae think that the suspicion will be that ye are really a lass and nay a lad.”

      “What could they think if not that?”

      “That I have grown weary of women.”

      She frowned, then gasped and blushed as she understood what he meant. “That is disgusting.”

      Nigel shrugged. “’Tis France.”

      “Be wary, my fine knight. I am French.”

      “Aye, and ye are the bonniest sight I have set eyes upon in the long seven years that I have roamed this land.”

      That effusive flattery made her heart beat a little faster, and Gisele silently cursed the man. “Have you nothing else to occupy your time and thoughts beside my paltry problems?”

      “Not at this time.”

      At the edge of the wood, while they were still sheltered by the trees and the shadows they cast, Gisele turned to look at him. Why did he have to be so handsome? Why did she feel anything for him at all? She had been so sure that her brutal husband had killed all interest in men for her, but she recognized the signs of a dangerous attraction even though it had been well over a year since she had felt any such thing. Where had this fine knight been when she could have enjoyed a flirtation, savored the warming of her blood and the clouding of her thoughts without fear? He was out wallowing in wine and women, she suddenly thought, and scowled.

      “This is not a trouble you need to concern yourself with,” she said.

      “I ken it, but I have chosen to intrude.” He briefly grinned as he leaned against a tree and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Why are the DeVeaux hunting you?”

      “Merde, you are like a hungry dog who has sunk his teeth into a bone.”

      “My brothers always said that I could be a stubborn bastard. Lass, I ken ye are being hunted, and I ken by whom. Your disguise has been no secret to me since the moment ye donned it. I also ken that ye have a bounty upon your sweet head. The only thing I dinnae ken is the why of it all.” He met her gaze and held it. “Why do the DeVeaux want ye dead? I think ’tis because they believe ye killed one of their kinsmen. If that is the truth of it, then which kinsman, and why should they ever think that a wee, bonny lass like yourself would kill anyone?”

      He was close to the truth, she thought, captivated by the warmth of his amber eyes. Too close. A large part of her desperately wanted to confide in him. More alarmingly, a large part of her desperately wanted him to believe in her innocence.

      She forced herself to look away, afraid that his gaze would pull the truth from her. To trust him with the truth would be to gamble with her life and, quite possibly, with Guy’s. She simply could not take that chance. To her disgust, she was also afraid that he would not believe her, would turn against her like so many others, and she knew that would deeply hurt her.

      “As I have tried to tell you—” she began, then realized that he was no longer listening to her, had instead straightened up and was staring intently toward the camp. “Is something wrong?”

      “The Sassanachs,” he hissed.

      “The who?”

      “The English.” He pushed her ahead of him as he began to hurry back to the camp. “Ye must get to Guy’s quarters and stay there.”

      “But, СКАЧАТЬ