Highland Honor Read Free Page B

toward the camp. “Is something wrong?”
    â€œThe Sassanachs,” he hissed.
    â€œThe who?”
    â€œThe English.” He pushed her ahead of him as he began to hurry back to the camp. “Ye must get to Guy’s quarters and stay there.”
    â€œBut, I see nothing. No alarm has been sounded. How can you know that the English are close at hand?” She stumbled, only to be roughly straightened up by him and pushed forward. “ Merde , do you smell them or something, or are you just mad?”
    â€œOh, aye, I can smell the bastards.”
    Before Gisele could question that a cry rippled through the camp. Men scrambled to arm themselves. She looked at Nigel in amazement even as he shoved her inside Guy’s tent and disappeared. The first sound of swords clashing reached her ears and yanked her free of her bemusement. She tossed her sack of kindling aside and grabbed one of Guy’s daggers, then sat down on the dirt floor facing the tent opening. If the battle came to her she was ready to meet it.
    As she sat there, tense and alert, she found herself wondering about the Scotsman, something that happened far too often now for her liking. This was not a good time to be concerned about anyone, especially a man. Such distraction could easily cost her her life. All of her attention had to be on one thing and one thing only—eluding the DeVeaux. Her heart and mind, however, did not seem to want to heed that truth. No matter how hard she tried to get the amber-eyed Scotsman out of her head, thoughts of him continually crept back in.
    Nigel Murray was an exceptionally handsome man, and many a woman would be unable to resist thinking about him. That knowledge did little to soothe Gisele’s concern and irritation. She should be better than that. She had seen the dark side of men, seen the black heart a beautiful face could hide. The Scotsman did not seem to carry that taint, but Gisele knew she could no longer trust herself to make that judgment. Although she had adamantly if futilely refused to wed DeVeau, having believed all the dark tales about the man, even she had not realized the depths of his amoral and brutal nature.
    Gisele cursed as thoughts of her dead husband brought the dark memories of her time with him rushing to the fore of her mind. It had been almost a year since she had found his mutilated body and, knowing that she would be blamed, had run for her life. They had only been married for six months, but she knew the things DeVeau had done to her would scar her for life. So, too, would what she saw as her betrayal by her family. They had done nothing to help her before or after her marriage to DeVeau, and many of them had believed the DeVeaux claim that she had murdered her husband. That was beginning to change, but she knew she would be slow to forgive and forget.
    A scream brought her attention back to her precarious position. It was the chilling sound of a man dying, but what alarmed her more was how near it was. The battle had drawn dangerously close to the tent. Gisele slowly stood up as the clash of swords continued at what sounded like only a few paces away. Hiding within the tent no longer felt safe. It began to feel very much like a trap.
    The dagger held tightly in her hand, she inched through the tent opening and then halted. Horror and fear held her rooted to the spot. Guy was in a fierce battle for his life with two men whose shields held the heraldic colors of the house of DeVeau. They had found her, and they were about to cut down one of the few members of her large family who had believed in her, just as they had cut down Guy’s friend Charles. Gisele shuddered as she quickly looked away from the amiable young knight’s body.
    â€œGet away!” bellowed Guy as he nimbly evaded a lethal thrust of a sword.
    Just as Gisele realized that if Guy knew she was there so did the DeVeaux, a third DeVeau man appeared and slowly approached her sword in hand. She