“I am glad that I can be of some service to you, m’lady.”
“Well, since you insist upon staying around, I suppose I must put you to some use.”
Gisele squealed with laughter and mock fear when he sought retribution by tickling her. She was breathless by the time he ceased playfully tormenting her, and suddenly very tired, as well. As she curled up in his arms she fought against a yawn, and loudly lost the battle.
“Go to sleep, loving,” Nigel urged, stroking her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Ye have had a long and eventful day. And, ye had verra little sleep last eve, for ye spent it running away from me and straight into your enemy’s grasp. It can be exhausting to make such a large mistake.” He grunted in feigned pain when she punched him lightly on the chest.
“You do not intend to allow me to forget that, do you?”
“Nay. It may be needed from time to time to keep ye humble.” He kissed the top of her head. “Rest. We have a long road to travel yet ahead of us.”
And I have just made it even longer, she mused as she closed her eyes. Although Nigel clearly loved to tease her, he did not say that, at least not aloud, and she was heartily relieved. Her stupidity could easily have gotten them both killed, and although she still did not know where they were she was sure she had added at least a day to their journey toward a port they could sail from. She had been headed in the opposite direction that Nigel had chosen for a whole night and part of the next day. She prayed they could easily recover all of that lost time.
Nigel cursed as a small, hard fist connected soundly with his jaw. He caught Gisele by the wrist before she could complete her second swing at his face. Her eyes were still closed, and he realized that she was caught in the tight grip of some dream. It was not hard to guess what she dreamed about, and the dream was certainly not a pleasant one, not if he correctly understood some of the rapid French she was spitting out.
When he caught the full force of her knee against the inside of his thigh, only a swift move to the right saving him great pain, he cursed and decided he could no longer wait for her to pull herself free of her nightmare. He turned so that she was neatly pinned beneath his body. The moment he ended the flailing of her arms and legs she began to grow calmer.
“Gisele,” he snapped. “Wake up, lass. Heed me,” he said more calmly, softening his tone as well as easing his hold on her. “’Tis Nigel ye are trying to bloody. Wake up, sweeting, so ye can see who is truly here and cast the shadows from your mind. Come now, look at me and nay at the ghosts in your head.”
Gisele felt her terror ease as she slowly woke up. Then she cursed. She had thought herself strong enough to cast aside the memory of what Vachel had done and of all he had threatened to do, but it was clear that she had not done so. Her mind did not care that he had not succeeded in raping her, that Nigel had saved her from that horror. The fear was still there, the chilling memory still near at hand, and ready to darken her dreams. Worse, the memory of Vachel brought forth all the memories of Michael. All the fear and shame she had endured under his cruel fists was new and sharp again. She cautiously opened her eyes and recalled that in her dream she had delivered a sound punch to Vachel’s jaw, just as she had ached to do when he had held her captive. Tentatively, she reached out to touch Nigel’s jaw.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I struck you, did I not?”
“Aye, ye did, and it was a good, sound blow. And,” he added, kissing the tip of her small nose, “there isnae any cause to beg my pardon. ’Twas just a dream. Ye werenae truly hitting me. I just got in the way of your ghosts.”
“Oui,” I guess that bastard Vachel is not gone yet. Neither of them are,” she whispered, fighting the urge to cry as she wondered if she would ever be free of the fear and bad memories.
Nigel held her close and kissed her cheek. “Weel, I am still insisting on staying around.”
It took Gisele a moment to recall the conversation she and Nigel had had just before she had gone to sleep. She laughed and curled her body around his in silent welcome. “It is obvious that your job is not yet done. You shall have to work harder to push all these demons from my poor tormented head.”
As he turned, settling her beneath him, Nigel drawled, “I am nay sure I can work much harder and still be alive come the dawn.”
She just giggled in response, then heartily returned his kiss. It might not be right to use the passion she and Nigel shared to push back the dark memories she struggled with, but there was no ignoring how well it worked. Gisele prayed that this time it would work well enough and for long enough that she could fall into a deep, dreamless sleep until dawn, when it would be time to mount her horse and flee her demons in a more practical way.
Twenty
“Where did all of these people come from?” Gisele asked as she peeked around the corner of the building.
Nigel yanked her back into the shelter of the shadows. “I believe it may be market day. Sadly, I also believe Sir Vachel awoke from that blow I gave him in an evil temper and vengeful humor. Many of those men weaving in and out of the market day crowd are weel armed. ’Tis verra clear that they are searching for something, and I dinnae believe it is cloth or ale.”
“It is me,” she whispered.
Despite her brief attempt to leave Nigel and all the trouble it caused them, they had reached the port in only two days. She had been feeling pleased with their success, almost hopeful. They had even accomplished it without seeing or needing to flee from any DeVeaux. Now she knew why they had not seen any of her enemies. The Deveaux and their many new allies were all here, waiting for her and Nigel to try to leave France.
“How can they be so certain that we will be trying to leave, that we will attempt to sail away and out of their reach?” she asked as she slumped against the cool stone wall of the little building. “We only told our plans to Guy and David, and I do not wish to think that either of them would betray us and tell the DeVeaux.”
“Rest easy, lass. They didnae tell anyone. They didnae have to.” Nigel leaned against the wall by her side. “Once the DeVeaux learned that ye were with me it didnae take much wit to ken where I would try to take you. And ye did say that ye thought Vachel was a clever mon. If he has been the one leading this hunt, this shouldnae surprise us at all. In truth, I should have planned for this. I did in a way, but I ne’er thought the numbers guarding the ports would be this great,” he muttered as he dragged his hands through his hair.
“You do not think we can get through or around them?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Nay, and it doesnae do us much good to linger here if we cannae find out who might be setting sail for Scotland. That information is to be found at the docks themselves, or in the alehouses near them.”
“And the DeVeau men would know that too, would they not?”
“Aye, and they would watch those places much more carefully than they do anywhere else.”
“So, must we now go and find another port to sail from?” she asked, sensing his anger and wishing she could do something to ease it.
