Nigel silently cursed himself for the greatest coward on two legs. There had been a perfect chance to confess all, and he had dodged it as swiftly as he would have dodged a sword stroke. It was a secret, albeit not a very well kept one, that he did not want to have to tell, not unless he was forced to. Nigel prayed Gisele would give him at least one chance to explain himself if the upcoming meeting with his family turned sour.
Deeply disappointed that he had not spoken of the woman she was sure he had run from, Gisele took a moment to compose herself, lightly trailing kisses over his face so that he could not see the hurt in her eyes. She prayed that he was not going to let her find out some hard truth on her own, through whispered rumors or even with her own eyes. Even if she did not like what he might say, she would prefer to hear the truth from him. There was not much time left for him to do so, however, and wondering just how devastating the secret might be was stealing the beauty of the moment. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She took a deep breath to steady herself, forced herself to smile, and set her mind on easing the uncertainty Nigel was suffering from.
“They will be pleased to see you standing there alive and unmaimed,” she said. “If changes have occurred in Donncoill or its people, I suspect they will not be anything you cannot learn about and live with. Beneath it all they will still be the family you knew.”
“Aye, ye are right. It has been hard to get news of them or send them word about me, and I began to think I would find myself amongst strangers. Or, that I would feel I was. That is foolishness, perhaps born of being too eager to get home.”
“So, shall we return to our horses?”
“Nay, not yet.” He slowly began to unlace her gown. ’Tis a fine, sun warmed day, and ye willnae have to be here long to ken what a blessing that is. I thought I might enjoy it a wee bit.”
“Ah, so, it is the day you seek to enjoy,” she murmured, tilting her head back so that he could have freer access to her throat.
Nigel just laughed and proceeded to make love to her. He had an urge to stop right there, build a shelter, and keep her in it. He would be near enough to his family to see them whenever he wished, but Gisele would never have to lay eyes on Maldie. He knew that was pure madness, and pushed it aside. Even if he could keep Gisele away from his family, it would probably only be for a little while. Someone would say something, or Maldie herself would arrive to see what he was hiding. He could not avoid the confrontation he dreaded, only pray that it would not be as bad as he feared.
Gisele frowned as she welcomed Nigel into her body. Her passion was running hot and wild, but she was not so blinded by it this time that she did not notice some difference in Nigel’s behavior. There was the smallest hint of desperation in his caresses, in the fierce way he pushed them to desire’s heights, as if he felt this would be the last time they would make love. Gisele decided she did not want to know why he should think of such a thing, feared even thinking it herself. She wrapped her body around his and decided to lose herself completely in the way he made her feel. If this were to be the last time she was in his arms, she did not want to dim the pleasure of it by thinking too much.
Nigel said little when they finally ended their embrace and began to put their clothes back on. He had murmured a few flattering words, but Gisele had not been fooled. Usually his pretty words made her feel wanted, beautiful, and desirable. This time she felt as if he just spoke practiced words, ones with no feeling or thought behind them. She felt the sting of shame, as if she had just been used as he had used the whores in France, but she struggled to subdue that appalling thought. It was not easy. Suddenly, there was a distance between them, and it terrified her.
As they remounted and started their journey again she told herself not to be a fool, that she was seeing dark shadows where there were none. Nigel was unsure of what he would find at Donncoill, and his mind was occupied by fears and concerns. It was no more than that. Her own uncertainties about meeting his family had just made her uneasy, and she tried to put the blame for that discomfort on Nigel.
She had almost convinced herself of that when Donncoill finally loomed into sight. It was an impressive if unfinished keep. Gisele knew that when the building was done it would rival many in France. Nigel was not going home to some poor, small tower like others she had seen in their journey, but to a strongdemansethat any man should be proud of. Yet the closer they got, the slower his pace. She got the distinct feeling that Nigel would turn and run if he could find any sound reason to do so. That made no sense to her, and she ached to stop, drag him from his horse, and demand that he tell her exactly what was troubling him.
The greeting they got as they rode through the high iron gates was as hearty a welcome as any man could want. Even that did not fully lighten Nigel’s somber expression. As he helped her down from her horse she had to bite her tongue to keep from demanding to know what troubled him so. Gisele did not like surprises, and she had the growing suspicion that she was about to suffer a very large and extremely unpleasant one.
A big man who seemed to be all different shades of browns grabbed Nigel as he stepped inside the door of the keep and hugged him tightly. That loving greeting was swiftly repeated by an older man and then a smiling, beautiful youth. If Nigel had feared that he would not be welcome or that his family would have become distant, that fear had soundly been put to rest. When he turned to take her by the hand, however, she got one clear look into his eyes and felt her blood chill. He was still uncertain, almost afraid. She suddenly did not want to know what had put that look in his eyes, and fought the sudden urge to turn and run from Donncoill. If something made Nigel afraid, she felt no shame in being terrified by it. She just wished she knew what it was.
She responded to everyone’s polite greeting as she was introduced to Nigel’s brothers Balfour and Eric, and the man James. The way the men were looking at her and then at Nigel made her nervous. It was as if they all shared some dark secret.
“Nigel,” called a sweet voice, and all the men turned to look at the woman hurrying down the stairs.
Gisele watched as the woman greeted Nigel with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to her. She could feel everyone staring at her, but did not care. All of her attention was on the woman Nigel was introducing as his brother Balfour’s wife, Maldie. It was hard not to shudder as she felt her blood turn to ice in her veins.
There was no ignoring the similarities between herself and Maldie. As Gisele noted each one she felt sicker and sicker. Her heart began to clench so tightly in her chest she found each breath painful. She knew this was the woman Nigel had run from, but that was not the reason she felt such agony ripping away at her insides.
Maldie was a little older than she, and very big with child, but that was about all that kept them from looking as if they had emerged from the same womb. Maldie had the same thick, black hair she did, the same deep green eyes, and was almost exactly the same size and height. All this time, while she had been falling in love with the man and wondering if she could ever get him to care about her, while they had been lovers greedily indulging their passion all the way across France and Scotland, Nigel had not even truly seen her. He had used her. Not sure she could win his heart, she had found some comfort in knowing that his passion and his companionship had been hers for a while, that she would at least be a sweet memory. She had been a complete fool. He had not been making love to Gisele DeVeau, but his brother’s wife.
Twenty-two
“You should have told me, Nigel,” Gisele said quietly, wanting to rage at him but knowing this was not the time nor the place to do so. “It was most unkind of you not to.”
“Gisele—” he began.
This was worse than he had imagined. He had not seen her look so stricken since he had watched her try to scrub away Vachel DeVeau’s touch. Nigel ached to smooth that look from her face, to put the life back into her eyes, but he feared he had just lost all chance of doing so. And, sadly, he now knew he wanted that chance, that he wanted her and no one else. It had taken just one look at Maldie to know, without doubt, that nothing remained of the feelings he had once had for her. He no longer loved Maldie, and probably had not for a very long time. He loved Gisele, the woman who was now looking at him as if he were the lowest, cruelest man she had ever met. Not telling her about Maldie may have been the biggest and most costly mistake he had ever made.
“Non.” She shied away from his touch when he reached for her. “It is too late.”
She felt so torn up inside that she was surprised she was not bleeding all over the fresh rushes beneath her feet. The tense, discomforted looks on the faces of Nigel’s family helped her to subdue her pain, although she knew it would be a short-lived respite. That amount of hurt would not allow itself to be ignored for too long. Nigel’s family did not deserve to be witness to it, however, nor did she want to bare her soul before them. She certainly did not want to bare it before Nigel. If there were going to be any discussion or consequence of Nigel’s heartlessness, he could suffer them alone. He certainly deserved to. She needed to go somewhere where she could be alone, to try to deal with the emotions churning inside of her.
“It is an honor to meet you all,” she said, pleased that her voice sounded calm, if a little strained. “However, if I may impose upon your kindness, I would really like a room. I need to wash the dust of travel away and get some rest.”
“Of course ye do,” said Maldie, stepping forward. After sending Nigel a sharp, angry look that promised severe retribution, she took Gisele by the arm and urged her toward a plump, aging woman standing at the foot of the stairs. “Margaret, please take the Lady Gisele to a room and see that she has all she needs.”
Nigel finally pulled free of his shock and indecision, but when he moved to follow Gisele up the stairs, Maldie firmly blocked his way. “I need to talk to Gisele.”
He briefly considered just moving Maldie out of the way, then glanced down at her swollen belly. Balfour would not appreciate him handling his wife that way. Nigel also had the suspicion that she was right to stop him. Gisele would not wish to hear a word he had to say at the moment, and he was not quite sure of what he wanted or needed to tell her. She might enjoy hearing him beg for forgiveness, but it would not be enough to ease the sense of betrayal she must be feeling.
“Ye needed to talk to her long before this, I am thinking,” Maldie snapped. Grabbing him by the arm, she pushed him toward the great hall. “Now, ye will talk to us.”
