He reached out to take the sword back again but she quickly sheathed it, and he decided not to get into a wrangle over it. “I am here to protect ye from that dire fate.”
“Do not take offense, for I mean no criticism, but you have been ill, wounded, and weak. I have just spent many days with no more protection than my prayers that nothing dangerous would creep our way until you were strong again, and you cannot imagine how helpless that makes one feel. There may also be times when I must face a danger and you cannot be at my side. I decided I needed to learn how to protect myself. I know I am neither big enough nor strong enough to fight as well as a man, but that does not mean that I should just sit on my backside and never learn the skill.”
“And when did you come to this great decision?”
Her eyes narrowed as she heard the hint of derision in his voice. “When I went to the village and saw the DeVeaux. They did not pursue me, but what if they had? What if one of them had cornered me? What if one of them had followed me here?”
“That didnae happen,” he said cautiously, but—although he hated the idea of Gisele wielding a sword in her small, delicate hands—he was beginning to see the benefit of her learning at least some rudimentary skill.
“Non, it did not. God was watching over us. Mayhap He was also watching over us when the wolves sniffed at our door. As I stared at them for what felt like hours. I was painfully aware of the fact that, even though I held a sword, I had no idea of how to successfully use it. That if they had decided to make a lunge at me, I could do no more than pray that I could thrash the weapon around well enough to cut the beasts down or drive them back.”
“The wolves were that close? Ye said nothing.”
Inwardly cursing herself for forgetting that she had eased his concern that night with a small lie, she just shrugged. “There was nothing you could have done. In truth, if you had joined me in my vigil the wolves might well have scented that you were wounded and been driven to try to reach you.”
Nigel cursed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Aye, wolves have a good nose for the weak and injured. ’Tis their favorite prey. As ye wish, then. When we camp tonight I will begin to teach ye how to fight.”
Her brief moment of elation swiftly faded as she thought over his words. “What do you mean, when we camp tonight? We have already camped—here and now. Why must the lessons wait?”
“Because we must ride today, must leave this place and be on our way.”
She gaped at him, then hurried after him as he moved to saddle their horses. “You are not well enough yet.”
“I may not be as strong as I would like, but my stitches will be taken out soon, and ’tis clear even to my untrained eye that there is little chance of reopening the wound.”
“True, but that does not mean that you have the strength to start riding all over the countryside.”
“Then we will ride only a little way.”
“If you do not mean to go very far, then what harm in waiting another day or so, waiting until you can ride far and maybe ride hard if the need arises?”
He turned to face her, briefly took her into his arms, and gave her a short, hard kiss. “Your concern over me is verra touching, but ’tis misplaced. Aye, I may not be able to ride verra far today. But tomorrow I will be able to ride even farther, farther still the day after that. And, even though we may not travel far or fast each day, we will still be drawing closer to a port and Scotland and safety. What I cannae do any longer is sit here waiting for us to be discovered by our enemies.”
“I have seen no sign of them since that day I went into the village.”
“And that is good, but it doesnae mean that we are safe here, either. Mayhap those fools didnae realize what they were so near to, but they might tell someone who could easily see the error they made and ride this way. Nay, lass, ’tis time we leave. ’Tis ne’er good to linger too long in one place, especially not when ye have most of France hunting you.”
Gisele did not really have an argument good enough to stop him. He was right. There was still the chance that the men she saw or someone they spoke to could come back here and search for them. It would only take a few quiet talks with the merchants she had dealt with for a DeVeau to know she had been in that village. Their plan had been to escape France and hide her in Scotland, and it was still the best plan they had. Sitting in the cave might be comfortable, might even be safe for a while longer, but it could easily become a death trap, and it certainly was not getting them any closer to Scotland. Nigel was also not going to heed her warnings about his wound, his lack of strength, or anything that hinted that he was still too weak to begin their travels again.
“If I think you are beginning to look ill or too weary to continue, will you heed me when I say we should rest?” she asked. When he hesitated she added, “Once we leave this cave we will be out in sight again, able to be seen and chased. You are not yet strong enough to stay in the saddle for a whole day and endure a hard gallop to flee the enemy. Rest is still important.”
“Then we shall rest if and when ye think we must,” he reluctantly agreed.
Gisele began to help him pack their things and saddle the horses. She hated leaving the cave, hated beginning their journey once again. Although she had also hated to see Nigel ill and wounded, it had been rather nice to stay in one place for a while. In truth, the cave had begun to feel a little like a home, something she had not enjoyed for over a year. That was foolish. A cave could not be a home. At the moment, France itself could not be her home, only her grave. Nigel was right. They had to start their journey again. She would, however, keep a close watch on him every foot of the way.
They kept their pace slow, ambling along as if they did no more than travel to a kinsman for some celebration. Gisele insisted that they take a long respite from riding at noon, ignoring Nigel’s muttered curses as he sulkily complied. She graciously refrained from pointing out that he had needed to sleep for over an hour before they could start riding again. Despite their care, however, he was pale and slightly unsteady by the late afternoon. She knew he was feeling poorly when he made no objection to their stopping before the sun had even begun to set.
The first thing she unpacked was their bedding, and she forced him to lie down as she saw to the horses and made a fire. Then she tended to his wound and helped him wash the dust and sweat from his body. He recovered a little after he ate, and she silently breathed a sigh of relief. They might have to move slowly for several more days, but she began to think that he could do so without any serious consequences.
When she crawled into bed beside him he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She smiled faintly when he cursed and simply held her. He was healed enough to think about making love, but clearly not enough to enact his thoughts. She huddled close to his warmth and closed her eyes Now that he was no longer in danger of dying from his wound, now that he was well on his way to being completely healed, she, too, thought more and more of how nice it would be to taste the passion they could share. The next few nights were going to be very long.
On the third night of their journey Gisele took out the stitches in Nigel’s wound. He insisted it was time, but she had hesitated, unsure of the right time to remove such things. The last thing she wished to do was to have to restitch him because they had moved too quickly and misjudged how much he had healed. Now that they were out, however, she looked closely at the wound and decided it had closed well. The skin was still pink and tender, but she could see no sign that the wound could be easily reopened.
Now he was probably healed enough to begin to properly teach her how to use a sword, if not for a long, hard ride, she mused. Thus far, he had done little more than tell her how to hold a sword and carefully instruct her in different ways to move, how to thrust and parry. At first it had been a little embarrassing to prance around by herself while he sprawled on their bed calling out directions, but she had quickly become used to it. He could show her more clearly now, had the strength to survive the day with enough ability to show her more, perhaps even to engage in a few mock battles.
“So, I am healed now,” Nigel said, interrupting her silent planning as he slowly moved his hand over the rough skin covering his wound.
“Nearly,” she murmured, finding her position astride his body an enticing one, learning how to fight quickly becoming the last thing on her mind. “The wound no longer needs stitches to keep the skin together and your insides where they belong, but that does not mean that it is strong enough to endure any punishment. You must still be very careful in what you do”
