A Dishonorable Knight (39 page)

They rounded the corner and walked
the last few paces to Samuel's shop.

"I thank you for your
confidence, Cynan. It does much to relieve my mind," she said as they
entered the building. Inside, Samuel was helping a pair of matrons select
fabric. He seemed to scarcely notice Elena and Cynan as they waved and made
their way to the back room where Gareth, Morgan, and Bryant awaited them. Elena
swept into the
room,
fully conscious of how flattering
her new dress was to her many attributes.

"Huzzah, sweet lady," said
Morgan. "You are as lovely as a newborn foal!"

Elena started to frown but laughed
instead. Morgan undoubtedly thought newborn foals were, in fact, lovely, and
she decided to take his comment as a compliment. Bryant told her she looked
beautiful, but Elena scarcely nodded in his direction. She wanted to see
Gareth's reaction. Trying to appear casually indifferent, she slowly turned,
allowing him to judge her appearance from every angle. When she finally raised
her eyes to his but he was not inspecting her dress, he was gazing at her face
with a hot passion that made her completely forget the gown.

At a nudge from his father Gareth was
suddenly in motion. Walking towards the open back door, he called to Bryant.
"Help me bring the horses around front, will you Bryant? Da, if you'll
grab the bag of food and meet us outside...Elena, gather your things. We must
try to cross as much distance as possible before nightfall."

Elena turned to go to her small room
when she realized that she had no things to gather. Since she had left her old
dress with Annie, she had not even a change of clothing to pack, and since she
had been sleeping in the relative comfort of the low straw pallet, she had not
given one thought to the bedroll she had spent so many nights in. Turning to
Cynan, she shrugged. "I suppose I am gathered."

Cynan laughed and said, "I suppose
you are."

Elena followed him back down the
short hallway to the front shop. There, Samuel had managed to sell a stack of
fabric to the two middle-aged women who were preparing to leave. Elena suddenly
remembered Annie and recollecting her "soul of kindness," paused in
front of the women.

"Might I recommend a
seamstress?"

The two women looked up, one with a
plain but wholesome face,
the
other with a sustained
beauty that Elena hoped she would have in fifteen years.

"We already have
seamstresses--ourselves," said the plain-faced one.

"Why? Whom do you
recommend?" the beauty asked. "We may need one someday," she
added and Elena wondered if she was simply trying to be kind.

"There is a young woman by the
name of Annie not ten minute's walk from here who does beautiful work.
See?" she said, holding out her skirts for their inspection. "She
made this gown in less time than it takes most people to cut the fabric!"

As is the case with most women, the
three were instantly friends, discussing clothing. Cynan and Samuel looked on
in amazed wonderment as the women chatted for several minutes. When Elena
finally turned to leave, she had both women's promises to visit Annie with
work.

Feeling positively saintlike, Elena
paused in the doorway and turned back to Samuel. "Thank you, Samuel, for
your kind hospitality." She nodded graciously and left the shop, her
skirts swishing behind her.

Once outside, she joined Gareth, his
father, and Bryant who were packing the last bag onto one of the horses. Elena
recognized one of the beasts as Isrid, Gareth's own, but the other, a shaggy,
stocky beast, she deduced must be the new acquisition. She sincerely hoped she
would not be forced to ride the smelly thing. What good would it do to have a
beautiful new gown and then ride through the town on a broken down pony? A
thought struck her as she waited for Gareth to finish bidding his father
goodbye. Perhaps the pony was to serve as a pack animal and she would ride in
front of Gareth as they had so often before. The thought of being nestled
against his chest well pleased her and she decided she would accept no other
plan.

Gareth finally turned to her after
giving his father a short but hard hug and said, "Are you ready to
leave?" She nodded and gave him her hand, which he grasped firmly in his
own warm one. He indicated the shaggy horse and said, "I'm afraid he's not
much to look at, but he is sturdy and will not bolt on you." Elena pulled
back abruptly. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I am a little fearful of
horses," she lied. "Especially when they look like that."

Gareth frowned, no doubt surprised to
hear this claim after her weeks in the saddle. "I would give you my horse
to ride, but I fear he may be difficult for you to handle. Besides, this one
here is as tame as a lamb. He'll not hurt you."

Elena looked beseechingly into his
eyes and said, "Please, Gareth. Can't I just ride with you for a little
while? Then maybe I'll feel more confident about riding alone."

Gareth searched her eyes for several
seconds and Elena sensed that he knew she was lying, but for some
reason--perhaps the same reason she had asked to ride with him--he nodded his
head and said, "Of course, Elena. Whatever will make you feel more
comfortable.
"
He led her to his horse and helped
her into the saddle. She curled her leg around the front lip of the saddle so
that she was not exactly sitting side saddle, but neither was she astride.
Gareth returned to his father and two friends and said, "She is feeling a
little nervous about riding alone so we'll just double up until she feels
better about the horses." Cynan and Morgan, both obviously used to such
feminine logic, nodded their heads understandingly, but Elena could see
Bryant's eyes narrow suspiciously on Gareth before he came forward to say
goodbye to her.

"Lady Elena, I hope you will
remember my words. Know now and always that you only have to call upon me and I
will travel the country to assist you in any way I can. I--" he paused and
cleared his throat nervously. "I, uh, I wish--" he stopped again and
Elena suddenly knew what he was going to say. "I wish you would think of
me, umm, as a," he struggled for the words, "as a friend other than
the brotherly kind. And if you would like to come back to Wales, well," he
inhaled deeply and then said in a rush, "I would be waiting for you and
you could come back to me." His speech exhausted, he stood, studying the
stirrups that were peaking out from under her hem.

Elena reflected that Bryant's was
certainly the most unusual proposal she had ever received. Suddenly finding she
had not the heart to turn him down outright, she quickly thought of how the
other girls back at court had refused suitors. She could not remember much, but
she improvised and said, "You do me great honor, Bryant, by your words. I
thank you for them and hope all goes well for you." Well, it was not
exactly a refusal, but neither was it encouragement. She hoped it would do. She
doubted--even if she didn't end up married to Brackley--that she would ever see
Bryant again. Unless Gareth…well, that was a thought for another time.

Bryant, his cheeks red, suddenly
stepped back as Morgan and Cynan came forward to bid her goodbye. Elena smiled
warmly at Cynan and warned him to hurry home to Enid. Morgan took her hand and
she squeezed it while he looked searchingly into her eyes and said, "God
be with you, Elena. Go with my son and be well." Before Elena could say
anything in response, Gareth swung up in the saddle behind her and she found
herself pleasantly pressed against him. Morgan handed his son the reins to the
other horse and Gareth deftly tied them to the saddle. Cynan and Bryant backed
away as Gareth gathered his own horse's reins and prepared to urge the
well-rested horse on. His father's voice stayed him. "Godspeed, Gareth. I
hope it will be in this life that we meet again." Elena craned her neck
and saw that Gareth was exchanging a look with his father that spoke volumes
beyond the few departing words they had uttered. With a gentle nudge to Isrid,
Gareth set them off on the beginning of their journey.

Gareth studied the shops and the tidy
homes of Aberstwyth on the way out of
town
as he had
been unable to three days before when they had first entered its limits. He
watched small children run along the street next to Isrid, laughing and yelling
to one another. He studied the huge white clouds in the sky for unusual shapes.
He concentrated on the brisk clip-clop of Isrid's hooves on the cobbled stones
of the road that would lead them out of Aberstwyth, out of Wales. He kept his
mind on anything that would prevent its wandering to Elena's soft body pressed
against his chest, her hips rocking gently against his in time to the sway of
the horse. It was entirely too soon in their journey for him to be thinking of
making a rest stop. Besides, now that he was alone with her--really and truly
alone, with no chance of his father or Samuel or Cynan or Bryant bursting
in--he was suddenly unsure of how to act. He wondered if she wished to continue
their highly enjoyable lovemaking now that they were on their way back to
England and her fiancée. He wondered if she considered him as a careless
affaire that was now over and done with.

Gareth squirmed in the saddle. Isrid
was climbing the gradual hill that led out of Aberstwyth and Elena's weight shifted,
sliding back just enough that she was pressed even more tantalizingly against
him. This was going to be a long ride, he thought.

As he tried to inch further back in
the saddle, another thought occurred to him. Elena had made it quite clear that
she wished to ride with him. He could picture her face just minutes ago when
she had told him she was afraid to ride alone. Gareth knew for a fact that she
was afraid of nothing--not even of suffering the consequences of going to her
bridal bed without a maidenhead. Furthermore, she had ridden enough in the last
month to make her adept at handling any kind of horse, much less one as docile
as the one he had chosen for her. Therefore, her claim that she was too
frightened to ride alone was simply for the benefit of his father and friends.

Gareth paused a moment, pleased with
his deduction and its results. He allowed himself to tilt his head slightly and
inhale the sweet perfume of her shimmering hair. In the bright sunlight, it
glimmered with fire, changing from chestnut to brilliant red to brown as she
moved her head. Several tendrils had come loose from the intricate twists and
were caught in a light breeze, dancing about her head like a halo. Gareth
smiled at that whimsical thought but his smile slowly faded. All right. So she
enjoyed being close to him, feeling his chest and other parts pressed against
her back. Perhaps she even intended that they would keep each other warm at
night during their journey. That was well and good. What bothered Gareth now,
though he was loath to admit it, was this: What in the name of sweet merciful
Mary did this woman feel for him?

The dilemma of two nights before came
back to haunt him.
Despite her many character flaws, and there were many of them, he loved her. It
had been creeping up on him since he had first seen her enter the great hall at
Middleham and though he had stifled it when she had snubbed him that night and
throughout the next two weeks when she had complained about everything, it had
budded in the days they had spent together at Eyri Keep, and bloomed that
horrible night he had found her huddled in the middle of the road.

Now that they had shared such passion
as they had, she was even more deeply ingrained in his body and soul. He
thought of her constantly, even when he was supposed to be devoting his full
attention to Henry Tudor's plans. Though he had told himself two nights before
that he would be able to watch her wed Brackley despite his feelings for her,
now that they were on the way to that destiny, he questioned his resolve. If
Elena were to go ahead with her betrothal, it would mean she felt nothing for
him: nothing but desire. The raised another question for Gareth: Would she, if
she did care for him, would she tell him? Pride was only one of her character
flaws and Gareth was dreadfully worried that pride would prevent her from
declaring feelings for a mere Welsh knight who might have been, and still might
yet end up, a humble shepherd.

There was only one thing to be done,
he decided, his mind returning to the feel of her shoulders leaning comfortably
on his chest. He would have to come right out and ask her what she felt for
him. He would have to declare his love for her and suffer the consequences of
her rejection if it came. Better that than to forever wonder if they might not
have made a life together. That decided, there was only one thing left to plan:
When would he tell her? Gareth knew himself well enough to know that once he
set his mind on something, he would follow through with that course of action,
no matter how difficult, but when? One thing was certain. Now was not the time.
He considered his decision for a moment. No, now was not the right time at all.

***

Three hours later when they stopped
to eat lunch was not the right time either. It was too soon into their trip,
Gareth decided. In fact, the whole first day was too soon into their trip. He
figured they would be traveling anywhere from a week to ten days depending on
where Richard was. Though Richard's party had been on its way to Nottingham
when it had been attacked on that seemingly long-ago day, the king could be at
any one of his castles by this time. It would be their first stop, nonetheless.
Regardless of how long they would be on the road, it was clear he had plenty of
time to tell Elena that he--Gareth swallowed his bite of sausage and bread
before he was quite done chewing--loved her. Therefore, he did not need to
worry about it today.
Or tomorrow either, for that matter.