Read Online Highland Honor by Hannah Howell - Free Book Online

of her jupon and began to withdraw her dagger from the sheath sewn inside. A moment later Nigel emerged from the wood proudly holding up two rabbits readied for the spit. Gisele felt both weak with relief and tempted to strike him. Then she looked at the rabbits again, realized how hungry she was, and decided to forgive the man his long absence and continuously alarming stealth.
    â€œDid I nay say earlier this fine day that I would find us some meat?” he said, grinning as he sat down on the opposite side of the fire and quickly set the rabbits on the spit.
    â€œYou did,” she replied, deciding not to remark upon the vanity of preparing the spits before he had set out on his hunt. “I did not realize how I hungered for some meat until you crept out of the wood holding your catch.”
    â€œYe are troubled by my silence, are ye?” He had a sip of wine and handed her the wineskin.
    Gisele shrugged and helped herself. “It can be frightening, especially in the dark.”
    â€œI shall teach you the trick of it. If ye acquire the skill ye willnae find it so unsettling.”
    â€œI would like that,” she said, not able to hide all of her excitement. “When we walk together I feel as if I make more noise than the horses. And with the danger I cannot seem to free myself of, it could prove to be a most useful skill.”
    â€œAye, it is, but ye will soon be free of the threat that has hounded you for so long.”
    â€œGod willing,” she murmured, and then smiled faintly. “You should be more careful in your boasting, Sir Murray. Some say God frowns upon such vanities, and I think we could use His favor right now, do you not agree?”
    Nigel smiled. “Oh, aye, but I dinnae consider it a boast or e’en vanity. ’Tis a vow, upon my honor. Your running will soon end. Ye have suffered enough injustice at the hands of the DeVeaux. ’Tis past time it ceased.”
    She really wanted to believe him, wanted to accept his vow and feel at peace, but she had been afraid for too long. Nigel might mean every word he spoke, but she needed far more than brave words. Over the last year a few friends and kinsmen had vowed to put an end to her travails, including Guy, and yet she was still running, still hiding. She could not even feel certain that Scotland would be the haven Nigel thought it would be, only that it had to be better than France. What puzzled her was how he could make such a vow when he was not convinced of her innocence in the murder of her husband.
    â€œYe dinnae believe me. I can see the doubt in your bonny eyes,” he said, as he turned the rabbits so that they would cook more evenly. “I am a mon of my word.”
    â€œI am sure that you are, Sir Murray. That was not why I frowned. I but wondered how you could vow so adamantly that you would keep me safe when you are as yet uncertain of my innocence.”
    â€œI have told ye, lass, whether I think ye wielded that knife or nay doesnae matter. That bastard deserved to die, and ye dinnae deserve to suffer for what was a righteous killing. The men of your clan should have been the ones to do it, should have made DeVeau pay dearly the first time he raised a hand against you. If ye were forced to do their duty for them, ’tis no fault of yours. Aye, and those kinsmen of yours should be here now,” he added in a hard, angry voice. “They should be all about you, swords raised, to shield you from the carrion the DeVeaux have yapping at your heels. But, since they are too cowardly, then I am more than willing to take up the cause.”
    Gisele stared at the fire, struggling to quell a sudden urge to weep—Nigel’s defense deeply touched her—but she was not sure she wanted him to know that. As she fought to compose herself, she prayed she was not about to suffer another disappointment or, worse, betrayal. She prayed that Nigel Murray was all he appeared to be, an honorable knight