Lass, ye will get filthy and wet if ye continue to sit there,” Nigel said.
She looked up at Nigel and his two new friends, Duncan and the taciturn Colin. As far as she was concerned, none of them had shown the appropriate amount of concern for her. They had just kept telling her that she would feel better soon, that the journey was not that long, and other such banalities. She also felt that it was nearly beyond forgiving that they had not immediately produced some miraculous cure for her misery. If she had not been so sick she would have made them all very sorry, indeed.
“I need to be still for a little while,” she said even as she accepted Nigel’s help in standing up.
“Ye will get your land legs back soon, lass,” Duncan said.
“How nice. And when do I get my stomach back? As far as I can see it will have been washed up with the tide, for I believe I lost it but a few hours sail from France.” Gisele glared at Duncan and Colin when the two men laughed. She glanced up at Nigel and noticed that he had the good sense to just be quietly amused.
While Nigel thanked the men for their help and gave Duncan the grey mare he had coveted, Gisele tried to just stand in one place without swaying. She looked at the saddled horses and inwardly groaned. She knew it was wise to leave the port as swiftly as possible. If the DeVeaux were after them, or already had allies in Scotland, this would be the first place they would search. Gisele just prayed that Nigel would not make her ride very far. She had not been joking when she had said she needed to be still for a while. It was not simply a wish to be on solid, unmoving ground, either. After being ill for several long days she was thoroughly exhausted.
Honest gratitude and well taught courtesy gave her the strength to move, however, when Duncan and his cousin started to leave. She walked over to the men, murmured her heartfelt thanks, and hugged each man in turn, smiling to herself when they blushed vividly as she kissed their cheeks. On the ship she had had little time or inclination to come to know them very well, but they had tried, however ineptly, to help her. Nigel liked them, and she accepted that as sound accolade of their worth. They had also gotten her and Nigel safely through a harbor town full of DeVeaux and out of France. They deserved far more than a kiss and a horse, but both men seemed heartily pleased with what they had.
The moment the two MacGregors left, Nigel lifted Gisele up into her saddle. “We willnae ride for long, dearling.”
“There is no need to be so apologetic,” she said, as she watched him gracefully swing his long body into the saddle. “I understand that it is not wise to linger here. If the DeVeaux guessed we would go to a port in France, then they have guessed that we would sail here.”
“And they might be watching these ports even now,” he said as he led them through the crowded streets and out of town. “Here and in other towns such as this a few Frenchmen wandering about wouldnae be noticed much.” He glanced back at her and frowned at how pale she was. “If ye cannae abide it any longer, let me ken it, and I will find us a place to make camp.”
“Now that I am off that ship, I believe I will begin to recover.”
Nigel kept their pace slow, and she was grateful for that consideration. The fresh air, cool and damp though it was, and the steady gait of her horse began to revive her. The movement of the horse was one she was accustomed to, unlike the roll of the ship’s deck. Gisele was astounded that anyone would willingly step on board one of those conveyances from hell, let alone choose to make a living off them, sailing off on the cursed things day after day. If it were not for Lent and many another rule of the church that dictated what she ate and when, Gisele doubted that she would even want to dine upon fish again.
The land around them drew her interest for a while. The village and its people had been a stark mixture of wealth and deep poverty, but she had seen many such disparities in France, too. The land itself, however, was different. France, too, had hills and rocks and trees and all the rest, but here it all looked so much more wild, even harsh. She knew the grey, misty weather added to that, but it was not the only reason it all looked so strange to her. And yet, she mused, it was also beautiful. She took a deep breath and could almost smell the wildness, the challenge the land offered anyone who wanted to try to survive in it. Gisele decided that she could easily come to love the place nearly as much as she loved one of its sons.
She fixed her gaze on Nigel’s broad back as they rode. Now that he was actually on Scottish soil she could almost feel his eagerness to get back to his family and his lands. Gisele wished she could share in his happy anticipation. She was accused of killing her husband, and she was not even sure Nigel believed in her innocence. It was hard to believe that his family would accept her as their honored guest. Even if they did allow her into their keep, graciously offering her shelter there, a great deal of trouble could follow right behind her. To bring that to the gates of a family who offered her their hospitality seemed, at the very least, extremely rude. Gisele decided that she was going to have to thoroughly discuss the matter with Nigel when they stopped to camp for the night.
“Rude?” Nigel briefly halted in unsaddling their horses to stare at Gisele in amazement. “Ye are worried about being rude?”
“That is not all I am concerned about, but,ouiit is a consideration,” she replied. The way Nigel was looking at her—as if her wits had been lost over the side of that ship along with the contents of her stomach, was making her feel very defensive. “It is no small thing to ask your family to shelter someone who has half of France searching for her. And, might I remind you, someone you are not even sure is innocent.”
“I shall vouch for you, and that is all they will need to hear.”
Silently cursing, she made the fire and spread out their bedding as he tended to the horses. She was pulling some food out of their packs when she realized what he had just said. He would vouch for her. Gisele quickly pushed aside a surge of hope that Nigel now believed in her innocence. That was not exactly what he had said. He could simply mean that he would assure his family that she would not kill him or steal all their valuables and creep away in the night. She had no way of knowing what he had meant, and should cease trying to measure his every word.
After setting their food down on their bedding, she slipped away to relieve herself and wash away the day’s dust. She also needed to get away from Nigel for a while, just long enough to compose herself. It would gain her nothing if she demanded to know what he meant by vouching for her. If he did not immediately say that he now believed she had not killed her husband, she would be painfully disappointed yet again, and this time she was afraid he would see the hurt he inflicted clearly displayed upon her face. Now that she knew she loved him, had reluctantly accepted that truth, her emotions were so strong and so close to the surface that she was no longer sure she could hide anything from the man. She was turning her face aside or slipping away for a moment alone more and more.
When she felt strong enough to face him she returned to the camp and sat down beside him. He handed her some bread and cheese, and she sighed with resignation as she ate. The food was filling and good, but she was growing weary of it. She wanted to sit at a table and eat a proper meal. Gisele realized that she could not clearly recall the last time she had done so. Even when she had stayed with one of the few relatives who would shelter her, she had had to remain hidden away, unable to participate in even something as simple as the family meal. She knew she should be grateful that she and Nigel had any food to eat at all, but that gratitude did not ease the longing for a return to the comforts she had been raised with.
“Some food in your belly will help ye recover,” Nigel said as he handed her the wineskin.
Gisele took a long drink before handing the wine back to him. “It has already helped. I feel more settled and stronger.”
“I wondered, for ye looked somewhat pensive.”
She smiled. “I was just feeling sorry for myself. Do not mistake me. You have provided for me very well, but I realized that it has been a very long time since I have sat down at a table for a proper meal.”
Nigel grinned and draped his arm around her shoulders, then nodded. “It has been a long time for me, as weel. I understand the longing. Aye, not only to sit up at table, but to have a choice of foods.”
“Oui, that would be lovely. The game you caught and cooked was most delicious and very welcome,” she added hastily.
“But rarely provided. I ken it, and I ken, too, that ye dinnae mean any criticism. My brother’s people set a fine table. Ye will find all ye could want, and a lot of it. If naught happens to slow us down, we should be sitting at that table in a week, mayhap less.”
Her mouth watered just thinking about it, but then she pushed aside her selfish longings. Nigel had shrugged aside her growing concerns about imposing upon his family, but they had to be discussed. When he had first presented her with the plan it had seemed to be a very good one, but matters were different now. The hunt for her had intensified, and if Vachel was as furious about her escape as she suspected he was it could grow even worse. Only a proclamation of her innocence would stop the hunt, and she could not be sure when or if that would happen. That was a lot of trouble to set upon the threshold of people who did not even know her.
“And seated with us at that table will be a great deal of trouble,” she said quietly.
“Ye worry too much about that, lass.”
