A Dishonorable Knight (49 page)

Elena awoke the next morning
wondering if she could convince the Countess of Salisbury to ride through the
bailey again so that she might catch another glimpse of Gareth. She had just
finished dressing and was waiting for the young servant girl to finish with her
hair when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Elena called, but
Catherine, who was having her hair washed, called out angrily, "No,
do
not enter! Elena, if you do not mind, I am not prepared
to receive anyone."

"For heaven's sake, Catherine,
it's not likely to be the pope calling for confession. What matter if a page
sees you with wet hair?"

"It is not seemly and I, if no
one else in this room, am well aware of the importance of behaving in a seemly
manner at all times."

Elena almost smiled at the crudely
delivered insult. Catherine was referring to her weeks spent with Gareth. More
than once had Catherine implied that Elena could not be a true lady after
allowing herself to spend nights on the road alone with no
chaperon.
Elena had managed to grit her teeth and say nothing, knowing that was the only
way to deal with someone like Catherine, but now she had remained silent long
enough.

"You only behave in a 'seemly'
manner when there is someone of import to impress. Were you to behave all the
time, you would not be so catty to the very women who have made you who you are
in this court today."

"Don't you dare try to tell me
you are the reason His Majesty treasures me so!"

"Ladies, please!"
interrupted Margaret. When Elena and Catherine continued to bicker, she yelled
a little more loudly. "Will the two of you shut your mouths for one
moment? I will answer the damned door myself."

Despite her anger at Catherine, Elena
laughed. "Are you sure they allow language like that in the convent,
Margaret?"

"They would if they had to deal
with you two," Margaret said over her shoulder as she reached the door.
She stepped outside and in a moment returned, looking apprehensively at Elena.
"The summons is for you, Elena. The Earl of Brackley has returned and King
Richard calls you to his meeting chambers."

"The earl is here?"
Catherine said, sitting up, heedless of the water dripping from her hair.

"Yes, he is here,"
Margaret
said, answering Catherine, but staring at Elena.
"But the summons was for Elena and Elena alone."

"That's ridiculous. I am sure
the earl will wish to see me as well." Catherine grabbed the linen towel
from the serving maid and began vigorously drying her hair.

"Would you like me to call the
messenger back? He was most specific in relaying the king's words. The earl is,
after all, betrothed to Elena, not you."

Catherine glared at the other women,
but Elena ignored her. "Did he say why?"

Margaret smiled sympathetically and
shook her head no. Elena suspected Margaret alone knew of her secret dread of
marrying the repugnant man and for the first time, Elena felt camaraderie with
the other woman she had never before experienced. Returning the smile, Elena
stood and left the room, forbidding her knees to shake as she walked down the
stairs and into the large map strewn room in which Richard was sitting with the
earl.

Richard was the first to notice her
presence. "Ah, Edmund, here is Elena now." When she was but a few
feet from the men, Elena curtsied gracefully and slowly rose. From beneath her
lashes, she watched Brackley, dismayed to find him even crueler looking than
she had remembered.

For several seconds, not a word was
spoken. Elena could not imagine why the king had called her forth if not to
tell her of her impending marriage. When the king finally spoke, however, it
was not to her.

"Look on her well, Edmund and
decide if you will have her though she be a fallen woman."

Elena looked up, stunned. "Your
Majesty?"

"Do not play the naive chit with
Us
, lady. Lady Catherine has kept
Us
well enough informed and she is convinced, as are We, that you did not hold
yourself as befits a member of Our entourage. Now it is up to the earl to
decide if he will have you anyway. We have offered him wife of any of my other
ladies, ladies whose virtue
We
can be certain of.
Edmund?"

The earl leaned back in his seat,
surveying Elena from head to toe. "I care not if she is pure. In fact, I
rather think I will prefer bedding a new wife who is not a virgin. Perhaps your
experiences," he put an ugly emphasis on the word 'experiences,' "in
Wales will make my wedding night all the more enjoyable." Turning to the
king, Brackley said, "I will still have her if her dowry is the
same."

"Aye, I've padded it well
enough. As for you, lady, be very thankful that the earl is as understanding
and tolerant as he is. Were he not, and your indiscretions had cost
Us
his valuable friendship, We would not like to think of
what might have happened to you."

Elena's breaths were short and
shallow. She had to fight the overwhelming urge to flee. Simply turn and
flee
and stop only long enough to grab Gareth and beg him
take her from this place. Oh why had she returned? Gareth had been right,
Richard cared nothing for her, only how she could serve him! He cared for
nothing except holding onto his crown.

Richard had turned back to Edmund and
was discussing the transfer of her dowry. He had completely dismissed her from
his thoughts, so it seemed, and he would never think of her again, now that she
had served her purpose.

"Your Majesty," she said
with a quavering voice. Taking herself firmly in hand she said louder and
steadfastly, "Your Majesty!"

Richard looked at her sharply.
"You should be attending your trousseau, lady. What is it?"

"I cannot marry the earl."

Richard's complexion became mottled
with anger as he said, "You most certainly can. It has already been
arranged. You will be wed come Sunday."

"No, Your Majesty, I cannot
marry him."

"And why not?" the king bit
out, digging his nails into the wooden arms of his chair.

She straightened her shoulders.
"Because I love another and may carry his child." Elena braced
herself to be physically beaten, or at least screamed at. Instead, the king
laughed coldly.

"In love with who? The puny
Welshman whom I've stripped of rank and thrown in the dungeon where he awaits
his well-deserved execution for being a traitor? Tudor landed but a week ago
and I vow your ‘love’ will not live to hear word of the usurper's
journey." Elena felt as if she were about to faint. "'Twould be best
if you forgot him. You will wed the gracious earl and
We
will hear no more argument from you. Furthermore, if you prove to be a
reluctant wife in
any
aspect,
We
will charge you with treason and condemn you to
death."

Elena closed her eyes and summoned
every ounce of strength she had not to cry out at Gareth's imprisonment.
Steeling herself to sound as innocent as possible, she said, "Nay, my
king, I know nothing of this Welshman of whom you speak except that he escorted
me to and from his father's keep in Wales. I am in love with the man whom my
parents hoped I might marry since I was a child. When last he visited your
court, I was overcome with such love that I forgot myself and gave him my
virtue. Even now, his babe grows in my womb. Please, Your Majesty," Elena
fell to her knees, hating Richard, but knowing she must play her part well if
she were to escape with her life. "I beg you to release me from my
engagement to this good earl who deserves a more suitable wife."

"Pregnant or no, you'll do as I
say."

"Aye, but I won't marry
her," Brackley broke in. "I'll not see my possessions passed on to
another man's bastard."

Desperation evident in his voice,
Richard said, "Then, good sir, take your pick of another of my ladies.
There are many more beautiful than this fallen angel."

Brackley stood and said in a voice
that was barely polite. "I am not certain I should do so--any one of them
may already have given birth to a passel of brats. I will wait. In the
meantime, I will return to my estate. I have been absent long enough on errands
for Your Majesty and I am certain my affairs are lacking because of it."
The earl left the room and in a flurry of motion, the king stood and grabbed
Elena by the shoulders, pulling her upright and shaking her until her head
snapped back.

"If you have cost me a battle
for want of that man's soldiers, I will slit your smooth throat myself!"

"Your Majesty, I beg you!"

Richard pushed her from him and threw
himself back in his chair. With an act of will that was physically evident, he
regained control of his anger. "Pray forgive me, lady. The worries of the
crown may push a man to actions he would not otherwise commit. I am even still
learning to control my anger when people stand forcibly in my way."

Elena panted raggedly, praying that
she would not hear her death sentence come from the king's lips.

After several seconds of silence,
Richard turned back to her. "Do not look like a frightened rabbit, caught
in a hunter's snare. You will live to see another dawn, though not in my
presence."

"What does Your Majesty
mean?" Elena whispered.

"You will pack your trunks and
be ready to leave at first light. I am returning you to your parents. There you
may marry your childhood sweetheart and bear him a passel of children. Frankly
I care not what you do, as long as you are not in my sight. Thank your father
and mother for your goodly service these past years and send them my wishes for
a prosperous harvest time." When Elena remained where she was, shocked, he
said, "Leave now, lady, lest I lose my temper again."

Curtsying quickly, she turned and
fled. She ran through the main hall and out the large doors. She ran, heedless
of those she brushed past or knocked over, and did not stop until she reached
the small arbor where she flung herself on a wooden bench, tears streaming from
her eyes. Oh what had she done? Surely, she was relieved that she would not
have to marry the repugnant earl. In fact, she was even glad to have been
relieved as a lady-in-waiting.
But what of Gareth?
What was to become of him? Her hands shaking, her breath coming in frantic
gasps, Elena realized that she was becoming hysterical. Digging her nails into
her palms until the pain calmed her, she stood and began pacing beneath the
shady trees.

Alright
, she thought. I am safe. I will not
see the king again, and as soon as Catherine and Margaret leave the room, I
will pack my trunk. Now, what of Gareth? Elena's stomach clenched with worry at
the thought of him in a dank dungeon, his spurs hacked off, facing death for
his moment of indecision as to which man he would support as king. Didn't the
fact that Gareth was here, training with Richard's other soldiers prove his
loyalty to his king? Had Richard lost all sense?

Gareth must be freed. That was all
there was to it. She would free him and together they would escape. They could
go to France for a few years, perhaps until Richard died, and then they could
return to Eyri Keep. The fact that she was no longer a lady-in-waiting to the
king, that she was no one of any great importance suddenly dawned on her, and
rather than feeling dismayed, she found tremendous relief in the fact. No more
would she have to worry about acting just so, or pretending to like people she
detested. Now if that foul Brackley came her way, she could turn her nose up
and walk away. The new sense of freedom further resolved her to helping Gareth
escape. Together they would begin a new life.

Brushing the now-forgotten tears from
her cheeks, Elena began to plan their escape. They would need money, but she
had plenty of jewels, surely enough to buy safe passage to France. Since
Richard didn't want to see her again before she left, once outside the castle
gates it should surely be no problem for her to change her destination. Once
she freed Gareth from the dungeon, he could meet up with her down the road and
they would head for France. Once
there
...well, once
there Gareth would have to make some plans.

Accustomed to getting her way, Elena
saw no reason why things wouldn't go according to her plans. Smoothing her hair
and shaking out her skirts, Elena headed back to the main building. Once
inside, she raced up a smaller back staircase and entered the room she shared
with Catherine and Margaret. She prayed that she would not have to face
Catherine again. Though she had found herself relieved to no longer be a
lady-in-waiting, she did not think she could stand to see Catherine smirk and
preen over the news. Nay, if she had to endure one spiteful statement from the
brat, Elena felt sure she would not be able to stop herself from ripping every
hair from Catherine's head.

Opening the door to their chamber as
quietly as possible, Elena was relieved to discover it empty. She quickly
rushed inside and threw open her trunk. Packing as carefully as she could, she
crammed her best gowns and half of her jewels into the trunk. The rest of the
jewelry, she placed in an embroidered pouch. She fastened the pouch under her
full skirts and moved about to see if it was evident. Satisfied that it was
well hidden, she fetched her cloaks from the hooks on which they were hung. One
of these she would have to sneak down to Gareth to help disguise him when he
made his escape. Elena looked at both of them, trying to decide which would be
the least conspicuous for Gareth to wear. With a sigh, she realized that
neither of them would work. One was a rich red velvet with ermine lining and
the other, though a simple dark blue wool, had gold couching covering every
inch of it. With a sigh, Elena looked up. A thin grey cloak with a full hood
hung on the farthest hook on the wall. It was the cloak Margaret wore when she
visited the convent she soon hoped to join. It would be perfect, but--