“There is no reason why they cannae continue.”
“Not yet,” she murmured. “I believe I should be here a little longer before I completely shock your people.”
Nigel smiled, but said nothing. He ached to speak of marriage, but knew it was too soon. She had only just begun to soften to him. It was difficult to hold back, however. He wanted more than a few chaste kisses. He wanted her back in his bed. He also wanted to know that she would not be leaving it again.
There was one other reason to hesitate. The day after he arrived he had sent word to her family with one of his fastest men. Nigel was sure that Gisele would be more open to the idea of marriage if she knew she did not have a death sentence hanging over her head any more. He had asked for word on how close they were to proving her innocence, as well as permission to make her his wife. The first he was very interested in. The second he did not care about, except that it might please Gisele. If she would have him, he would marry her whether her family approved or not.
For as long as he could, Nigel sat with Gisele, holding her small hand in his and stealing the occasional gentle kiss, before he excused himself with the claim that he had work to do. His whole body ached from wanting her, but he did not dare to reveal that hunger. Gisele needed to see that he wanted her for more than the passion they could share. Nigel cursed as he walked to the well, drew up a bucket of cold water, and poured it over his head. He had not thought that wooing Gisele would be so difficult. As he shook the water from his hair he heard someone laugh, and turned to see his brother Balfour standing behind him.
“Finding the wooing a wee bit hard to bear, are ye?” Balfour asked, grinning widely.
“I am nay doing this for your amusement,” Nigel drawled, leaning against the stone side of the well.
“I ken it, but it serves that purpose well enough. Your wooing appears to be going smoothly, though.”
“Aye, smoothly enough. Gisele is nay longer looking at me as if she wished I would fall into some deep pit, preferably one that led straight to hell. I am just nay sure how far she and I have come in this last fortnight.”
“How far did ye wish to have come by now?”
“Far enough so that I didnae have to be here soaking my head to cool the fever in my blood.”
Balfour laughed, draped his arm around Nigel’s shoulders, and started to walk them back to the keep. “Mayhap ’tis time to speak of more than how fine the weather is, or how bonny she looks.”
Nigel nodded. “It may be, but I was hoping to see a wee bit more softness from her, some clear hint that my love words would be welcomed.” He held up his hand when Balfour began to speak. “I ken what ye are about to say. I must speak first and hope for the best. I ken it. I am but a coward. I will let that rule me for nay longer than a day or two more. And then, cowardice be cursed to hell, I will speak.”
Gisele smiled sweetly at young Eric, but the moment he left her alone in the garden she felt her whole body slump with weariness. Pretense was exhausting, she mused. She was trying so hard to remain pleasant and appear untroubled when her mind was so crowded with unanswered questions and doubts that her head was beginning to throb.
Nigel had suddenly become more intense in his wooing, his kisses less chaste and his words more heavily imbued with meaning. It was as if he had abruptly decided that he had coddled her enough, or given her long enough to fully forgive him. It was such a strong change from the day before, however, from the pretty flatteries and gentle wooing, that she felt somewhat unsettled. The fact that his family had all stopped to talk to her, their hints easy to read, showed her that it was probably not vanity that told her Nigel was about to declare himself, to speak of marriage. She was not sure if he would also speak of love, and that uncertainty stung, but she could not shake the strong feeling that she was going to be asked to make a very big decision very soon.
She buried her face in her hands and cursed. Everything seemed to be going her way. After watching Nigel and Maldie she was sure that he no longer loved the woman, no more than any brother loves a sister. He had wooed her very prettily for a fortnight, had even thoroughly explained himself. Even if he did not express love, Gisele knew she would marry him if he asked her to. Foolish though it might be, she loved him enough to marry him and hope that she could win his heart over time. She knew she would never be able to resist taking that gamble.
There was, however, one thing she had allowed herself to forget—the DeVeaux. In all this time there had been no word from her family. The hunt for her was obviously still on. Now that she had come to know the Murrays, had enjoyed their kindness, she knew she could not be responsible for bringing trouble to their gates. If any one of them were hurt or killed because she had led her enemies to their door, had used them to hide behind, she would never forgive herself.
She had been selfish, she decided, reveling in comfort, good food, and kindness without a thought to the consequences for the ones offering them to her. Gisele wondered if she had also allowed herself to be lulled by the Murrays’ belief in her innocence. She suspected that now even Nigel believed, although, he had said nothing, to her utter annoyance. It did not mean that anyone else believed in her yet, however, and she had to face that cold fact. There was little chance that the Murrays’ belief in her innocence would be enough to turn back the DeVeaux, either.
There was no doubt in her mind about what she had to do now. She had to leave, had to go and take all of her troubles with her. It was also her responsibility to prove her innocence. She had left that in the hands of others for far too long. Gisele sighed and shook her head. She had left everything in the hands of others, from her safety to the food that she ate. It was time to show some backbone and stop expecting the rest of the world to help her. If nothing else, she thought with a sad smile, she would have the advantage of surprise on her side. No one would expect her to go back to France and confront her accusers.
The ease with which she slipped out of Donncoill at dusk amazed Gisele. It also made her feel a little guilty, for she knew she was taking advantage of the Murrays’ trust and friendship. Her only consolation was the knowledge that what she was doing was for their own safety. She nudged her pony along the trail she and Nigel had followed into Donncoill two weeks before and forced herself not to look back, fearing that she could easily weaken in her resolve.
Night had fully fallen by the time she reached a small village. Gisele suspected it would be safer to camp outside of the village, but she was a coward. She had slept alone in the wood a time or two while traveling alone in France, but only when there had been no other choice, and she had hated every minute of it.And now a thief, she thought with a wince of shame as she handed the frowning innkeeper money for a room for the night. She hoped Nigel would forgive her for lightening his purse when she paid him back in full, as she had every intention of doing. Even if she did not survive this journey home, she would make certain that her family was clearly instructed to settle all of her debts.
Once alone in her room, she stripped to her chemise and sprawled on top of the tiny bed. She felt trapped, afraid, and unhappy, despite knowing that she was doing the only thing she could. The Murrays considered it a matter of honor to keep her safe and help her, but that did not make it right or fair for her to use that to her own advantage. She was ashamed that she had already done so for so long.
Gisele closed her eyes. She knew sleep would be a long time in coming, but she intended to do her best to clear her mind and get as much rest as she possibly could. Rest would be needed for the days ahead, needed to maintain the strength she required to keep going. It was certainly going to be needed to force herself to get back on a ship and sail to France. There was too much that could make her turn back, such as her deep fear of being alone, of facing the DeVeaux, even of getting herself thoroughly and completely lost. There was also Nigel. He had been close to giving her some part of what she craved, a lifetime together, and at least the hope of winning his love. She prayed that he would not come after her, for she knew he could easily convince her to return to him and Donncoill, and that would be wrong.
“Where is Gisele?” Nigel asked Maldie as he strode into the great hall and stopped before her and Balfour where they sat at the head table.
“I havenae seen her for many hours,” Maldie replied, then looked at Balfour, who shrugged and shook his head. “In truth, I was a wee bit surprised when she didnae come join us for this meal. I had thought of sending Margaret to her chambers to see if she was unwell.”
“Gisele isnae in her chambers, either. I have already looked there.” Nigel signaled to a page and sent the boy out to the stable, then sat at the table and idly picked at the food spread out before him.
“Do ye think she has fled Donncoill?” Balfour asked after several moments of tense silence.
“I dinnae ken,” Nigel replied. “’Tis the only possibility I have yet to consider. She isnae any place within this keep that I can see, and why would she hide from me? From any of us?” When the breathless page returned and reported that Gisele’s horse was gone, Nigel pounded his fist on the table and cursed. “She has run away.”
“But, why?”
“I dinnae ken, do I?” Nigel snapped, but then took a slow, deep breath to calm himself. “’Tis clear that she told her plans to no one, or I would be aware of them by now, so I can but guess at the reasons for her leaving. I have a few sound ones.”
