Highland Honor (25 page)

“I no longer love Maldie. Ye ken that, dinnae ye?”

“I saw that within days after arriving at Donncoill, and it would certainly make a marriage between us go along much more smoothly,” she drawled and smiled faintly, then touched her fingers to his lips when he began to speak. “I must finish this ere I lose the courage to do so. I need more than what you have talked of. I need your heart, Nigel, for you hold mine.”

She watched him carefully, almost afraid to breathe. He looked stunned, but she was not sure if that were a good or a bad thing. When he pulled her into his arms and held her almost too tightly she began to feel a little more secure. There was certainly a lot of emotion revealed in his touch.

“When did ye decide that ye loved me?” he demanded, starting to trace her face with small kisses.

Gisele had to smile. His reaction was all she could have hoped for, except that he still refused to say what she needed to hear. Forcing herself to be patient, she threaded her fingers through his hair and briefly touched a kiss to his mouth.

“I think it may have been when you were wounded. I feel as if it has been there for a long time. Recall that time I ran away and was captured by Vachel?” He nodded. “I ran away from you, from what I suddenly realized I felt for you. There was enough trouble on my plate. I foolishly thought that I could run from that new one, that I could run from what was in my heart.”

“Nay, 'tis hard to do. One cannae deceive it, either. It kens the truth no matter what your poor fevered brain thinks. I thought myself in love with Maldie for so long that I mistrusted every feeling I had for you.”

Gisele forced herself not to tense with the anticipation she felt. She also swallowed the urge to just demand that he tell her what he felt. He needed a little more time. She did decide, however, that she would not give him too much more. The way he said so much but never enough could easily drive her mad.

“I understand that, Nigel. I was hurt, but I did come to realize that you truly meant me no harm. You were but confused. Maldie was a dream you had clung to for seven long years. Such dreams are hard to discard.”

“More a nightmare at times. No one likes to believe he has given his heart away uselessly. I should have said something to you, though. That was wrong. Mayhap if I had confessed to my confusion it could have been unraveled sooner. I knew the moment I looked at Maldie that she was no longer the woman who held my heart in her small hands. More important, I kenned that I wasnae trying to hold onto her ghost, either. Aye, ye look like her, but ye arenae her. Ye arenae taking her place in my heart. Ye have made your own. I was a fool nay to see that.”

“I have a place in your heart, do I?” she asked softly.

“Ye fill it, lass. Ye are in every corner of it.”

He laughed quietly when she hugged him tightly. It was going to be all right. They had both found what they needed. Nigel could barely believe his good fortune.

“I have been a fool and a coward, lass,” he murmured against her throat. “I am surprised that ye have had the patience to keep me in your heart.”

“At times you did seem to be worth it,” she said, and laughed when he gave her a gentle nudge.

He raised himself up on his elbows and cupped her face in his hands. “Well, ye are truly stuck with me now, my bonny French rose. I love ye, and I cannae find the words to tell ye how wondrous it feels to ken that ye love me, too.”

She eagerly returned his tender kiss, then held him close, moving her foot up and down his strong leg. “There are years ahead of us for you to learn the words.” She grinned when she felt him chuckle against her breast, then frowned slightly when he picked up her amulet and kissed it. “Why did you do that?”

“Well, ye said it was from your grandmother, that she said it would bring ye good fortune.”

Gisele smiled and idly stroked the medallion. “And it has. I am free and, more important, I am loved.”

“Oh, aye, and I think it will take me all of our lifetime to show ye just how much ye are loved. I but thanked your grandmother as I believe I, too, have benefitted from the luck in that bauble.”

“Mayhap, but not as much as I have.”

He lightly straddled her and slowly grinned. “Are ye meaning to argue this matter?”

“I believe I am.”

“Then prepare to be argued with most vigorously, lass. If we mean to determine which of us is the most fortunate or which of us loves the other more, it could take a verra long time.”

“With a lot of persuasion, I hope.”

“A lot of sweet, exhausting persuasion,” he agreed as he brushed a kiss over her lips. “And I dinnae mean to stop persuading ye until we are both naught but dust.”

Even as she started to return his kiss, Gisele lightly touched the medallion resting against her breasts.
Thank you, Nana
, she thought, then gave herself over to the passion she knew would be hers forever.

Please read on for an exciting sneak peek of
Hannah Howell's
HIGHLAND LOVER!

 

Scotland, Spring, 1475

“Oof!”

Oof!?
Dazed and struggling to catch her breath, Alana decided she must have made that noise herself. Hard dirt floors did not say
oof
. It was odd, however, how the rough stone walls of the oubliette made her voice sound so deep, almost manly. Just as she began to be able to breathe again, the hard dirt floor shifted beneath her.

It took Alana a moment to fully grasp the fact that she had not landed on the floor. She had landed on a person. That person had a deep, manly voice. It was not dirt or stone beneath her cheek, but cloth. There was also the steady throb of a heartbeat in the ear she had pressed against that cloth. Her fingers were hanging down a little and touching cool, slightly damp earth. She was sprawled on top of a man like a wanton.

Alana scrambled off the man, apologizing for some awkward placement of her knees and elbows as she did so. The man certainly knew how to curse. She stood and stared up at the three men looking down at her, the light from the lantern they held doing little more than illuminating their grinning, hairy faces.

“Ye cannae put me in here with a mon,” she said.

“Got no place else to put ye,” said the tallest of the three, a man called Clyde, whom she was fairly sure was the laird.

“I am a lady,” she began.

“Ye are a wee, impudent child. Now, are ye going to tell us who ye are?”

“So ye can rob my people? Nay, I dinnae think so.”

“Then ye stay where ye are.”

She did not even have time to stutter out a protest. The grate was shut, and that faint source of light quickly disappeared as the Gowans walked away. Alana stared into the dark and wondered how everything had gone so wrong. All she had wanted to do was to help find her sister Keira, but none of her family had heeded her pleas or her insistence that she could truly help to find her twin. It had seemed such a clever idea to disguise herself as a young girl and follow her brothers, waiting for just the right moment to reveal herself. How she had enjoyed those little dreams of walking up to her poor, confused brothers and leading them straight to their sister. That had kept a smile upon her face and a jaunty spring in her step right up until the moment she had realized she not only had lost her brothers' trail, but also had absolutely no idea of where she was.

Feeling very sorry for herself and wondering why her gifts had so abruptly failed her just when she needed them the most, she had been cooking a rabbit and sulking when the Gowans had found her. Alana grimaced as she remembered how she had acted. Perhaps if she had been sweet and had acted helpless, she would not be stuck in a hole in the ground with a man who was apparently relieving himself in a bucket. Maybe it would be wise to tell the Gowans who she was so that they could get some ransom for her and she could get out of here. Appalled by that moment of weakness, Alana proceeded to lecture herself in the hope of stiffening her resolve.

 

Gregor inwardly cursed as he finished relieving himself. It was not the best way to introduce himself to his fellow prisoner, but he really had had little choice. Having a body dropped on top of him and then being jabbed by elbows and knees had made ignoring his body's needs impossible. At least the dark provided a semblance of privacy.

He was just trying to figure out where she was when he realized she was muttering to herself. Clyde Gowan had called her an impudent child, but there was something in that low, husky voice that made him think of a woman. After she had landed on him and he had caught his breath, there had also been something about that soft, warm body that had also made him think of a woman despite the lack of fulsome curves. He shook his head as he cautiously stepped toward that voice.

Despite his caution, he took one step too many and came up hard against her back. She screeched softly and jumped, banging the top of her head against his chin. Gregor cursed softly as his teeth slammed together, sending a sharp, stinging pain through his head. He was a little surprised to hear her softly curse as well.

“Jesu, lass,” he muttered, “ye have inflicted more bruises on me than those fools did when they grabbed me.”

“Who are you?” Alana asked, wincing and rubbing at the painful spot on the top of her head, certain she could feel a lump rising.

“Gregor. And ye are?”

“Alana.”

“Just Alana?”

“Just Gregor?”

“I will tell ye my full name if ye tell me yours.”

“Nay, I dinnae think so. Someone could be listening, hoping we will do just that.”

“And ye dinnae trust me as far as ye can spit, do ye?”

“Why should I? I dinnae ken who ye are. I cannae e'en see you.” She looked around and then wondered why she bothered since it was so dark she could not even see her own hand if she held it right in front of her face. “What did they put ye in here for?”

Alana suddenly feared she had been confined with a true criminal, perhaps even a rapist or murderer. She smothered that brief surge of panic by telling herself sharply not to be such an idiot. The Gowans wanted to ransom her. Even they were not stupid enough to risk losing that purse by setting her too close to a truly dangerous man.

“Ransom,” he replied.

“Ah, me too. Are they roaming about the country plucking up people like daisies?”

Gregor chuckled and shook his head. “Only those who look as if they or their kinsmen might have a few coins weighting their purse. A mon was being ransomed e'en as they dragged me in. He was dressed fine, although his bonnie clothes were somewhat filthy from spending time in this hole. I was wearing my finest. I suspect your gown told them your kinsmen might have some coin. Did they kill your guards?”

Alana felt a blush heat her cheeks. “Nay, I was alone. I got a little lost.”

She was lying, Gregor thought. Either she was a very poor liar, or the dark had made his senses keener, allowing him to hear the lie in her voice. “I hope your kinsmen punish the men weel for such carelessness.”

Oh someone would most certainly be punished, Alana thought. There was no doubt in her mind about that. This was one of those times when she wished her parents believed in beating a child. A few painful strokes of a rod would be far easier to endure than the lecture she would be given and, even worse, the confused disappointment her parents would reveal concerning her idiocy and disobedience.

“How long have ye been down here?” she asked, hoping to divert his attention from how and why she had been caught.

“Two days, I think. 'Tis difficult to know for certain. They gave me quite a few blankets; a privy bucket, which they pull up and empty each day; and food and water twice a day. What troubles me is who will win this game of ye stay there until ye tell me what I want to know. My clan isnae really poor, but they dinnae have coin to spare for a big ransom. Nay when they dinnae e'en ken what the money will be used for.”

“Oh, didnae they tell ye?”

“I was unconscious for most of the time it took to get to this keep and be tossed in here. All I have heard since then is the thrice daily question about who I am. And I am assuming all these things happen daily, not just whene'er they feel inclined. There does seem to be a, weel, rhythm to it all. 'Tis how I decided I have been here for two days.” He thought back over the past few days, too much of it spent in the dark with his own thoughts. “If I judge it aright, this may actually be the end of the third day, for I fell unconscious again when they threw me in here. I woke up to someone bellowing that it was time to sup, got my food and water, was told about the privy bucket and that blankets had been thrown down here.”

“And 'tis night now. The moon was rising as we rode through the gates. So, three days in the dark. In a hole in the ground,” she murmured, shivering at the thought of having to endure the same. “What did ye do?”

“Thought.”

“Oh dear. I think
that
would soon drive me quite mad.”

“It wasnae a pleasant interlude.”

“It certainly isnae. I am nay too fond of the dark,” she added softly and jumped slightly when a long arm was somewhat awkwardly wrapped around her shoulders.

“No one is, especially not the unrelenting dark of a place like this. So, ye were all alone when they caught ye. They didnae harm ye, did they?”

The soft, gentle tone of his question made Alana realize what he meant by
harm
. It struck her as odd that not once had she feared rape, yet her disguise as a child was certainly not enough to save her from that. “Nay, they just grabbed me, cursed me a lot for being impudent, and tossed me over a saddle.”

Gregor smiled. “Impudent were ye?”

“That is as good a word for it as any other. There I was sitting quietly by a fire, cooking a rabbit I had been lucky enough to catch, and up ride five men who inform me that I am now their prisoner and that I had best tell them who I am so that they can send the ransom demand to my kinsmen. I told them that I had had a very upsetting day and the last thing I wished to deal with was smelly, hairy men telling me what to do, so they could just ride back to the rock they had crawled out from under. Or words to that effect,” she added quietly.

In truth, she thought as she listened to Gregor chuckle, she had completely lost her temper. It was not something she often did, and she suspected some of her family would have been astonished. The Gowans had been. All five men had stared at her as if a dormouse had suddenly leapt at their throats. It had been rather invigorating until the Gowans had realized they were being held in place by insults from someone they could snap in half.

It was a little puzzling that she had not eluded capture. She was very fast, something often marveled at by her family; she could run for a very long way without tiring; and she could hide in the faintest of shadows. Yet mishap after mishap had plagued her as she had fled from the men, and they had barely raised a sweat in pursuing and capturing her. If she were a superstitious person, she would think some unseen hand of fate had been doing its best to make sure she was caught.

“Did they tell ye why they are grabbing so many for ransom?” Gregor asked.

“Oh, aye, they did.” Of course, one reason they had told her was because of all the things she had accused them of wanting the money for, such as useless debauchery and not something they badly needed like soap. “Defenses.”

“What?”

“They have decided that this hovel requires stronger defenses. That requires coin or some fine goods to barter with, neither of which they possess. I gather they have heard of some troubles not so far away, and it has made them decide that they are too vulnerable. From what little I could see whilst hanging over Clyde's saddle, this is a very old tower house, one that was either neglected or damaged once, or both. It appears to have been repaired enough to be livable, but I did glimpse many things either missing or in need of repair. From what Clyde's wife said, this small holding was her dowry.”

“Ye spoke to his wife?”

“Weel, nay. She was lecturing him from the moment he stepped inside all the way to the door leading down here. She doesnae approve of this. Told him that since he has begun this folly, he had best do a verra good job of it and gather a veritable fortune, for they will need some formidable defenses to protect them from all the enemies he is making.”

Alana knew she ought to move away from him. When he had first draped his arm around her, she had welcomed what she saw as a gesture intended to comfort her, perhaps even an attempt to ease the fear of the dark she had confessed to. He still had his arm around her, and she had slowly edged closer to his warmth until she was now pressed hard up against his side.

He was a very tall man. Probably a bit taller than her overgrown brothers, she mused. Judging from where her cheek rested so nicely, she barely reached his breastbone. Since she was five feet tall, that made him several inches over six feet. Huddled up against him as she was, she could feel the strength in his body despite what felt like a lean build. Considering the fact that he had been held in this pit for almost three days, he smelled remarkably clean as well.

And the fact that she was noticing how good he smelled told her she really should move away from him, Alana thought. The problem was, he felt good, very good. He felt warm, strong, and calming, all things she was sorely in need of at the moment. She started to console herself with the thought that she was not actually embracing him, only to realize that she had curled her arm around what felt like a very trim waist.

She inwardly sighed, ruefully admitting that she liked where she was and had no inclination to leave his side. He thought she was a young girl, so she did not have to fear him thinking she was inviting him to take advantage of her. Alone with him in the dark, there was a comforting anonymity about it as well. Alana decided there was no harm in it all. In truth, she would not be surprised to discover that he found comfort in it, too, after days of being all alone in the dark.

“Where were ye headed, lass? Is there someone aside from the men ye were with who will start searching for ye?” Gregor asked, a little concerned about how good it felt to hold her, even though every instinct he had told him that Alana was not the child she pretended to be.

“Quite possibly.” She doubted that the note she had left behind would do much to comfort her parents. “I was going to my sister.”

“Ah, weel, then, I fear the Gowans may soon ken who ye are e'en if ye dinnae tell them.”

“Oh, of course. What about you? Will anyone wonder where ye have gone?”

“Nay for a while yet.”

They all thought he was still wooing his well-dowered bride. Gregor had had far too much time to think about that, about all of his reasons for searching for a well-dowered bride and about the one he had chosen. Mavis was a good woman, passably pretty, and had both land and some coin to offer a husband. He had left her feeling almost victorious, the betrothal as good as settled, yet each hour he had sat here in the dark, alone with his thoughts, he had felt less and less pleased with himself. It did not feel
right
. He hated to think that his cousin Sigimor made sense about anything, yet it was that man's opinion that kept creeping through his mind. Mavis did not really feel
right
. She did not really
fit
.