Elena cushioned her head on his shoulder and stared up at the brilliant sky. More clouds had gathered, though they were innocently white, devoid of any threat of rain as they sailed across the blue expanse behind them.
"Do you see that cloud over there?" Gareth asked, pointing to a large formation on the northern horizon.
"Yes."
"Don't you think it looks like a running horse?"
"A what? It just looks white." Elena squinted, trying to decipher a horse in the huge blob of cloud.
"No, look carefully. See? Right there is his head with a mane flowing out behind it. You can't really see his forelegs, but his hindquarters and tail are easy to see."
Slowly the image took shape for Elena and she gasped in amazement. "You're right."
Gareth turned his head and looked at her. "Haven't you ever watched the clouds before?"
"Never."
"Truly?" he asked, amazed.
"When would I have lain on the ground staring at the sky? Perchance while Lady Elizabeth was sleeping?"
"What about as a child? I used to have to tend my father's flock and every afternoon I would spend hours imagining stories around the things I saw in the clouds."
Feeling defensive, Elena said, "I was learning to read real stories as a child, remember?"
"Ah yes. Well, it's never too late to learn. Let's look for something else. There," he said, pointing at a cloud directly over them. "That one looks like a huge tree. If I were a child back in Gwynedd, I would imagine that was a magical tree inhabited by fairies."
"Fairies?" Elena asked. "There's no such thing as fairies."
"How do you know?" Gareth asked incredulously.
"There just aren't. I would have read about them if there were."
"You can't learn everything from books, Elena."
She was about to retort when she thought of the past month spent in Gareth's company. Truly she could never have learned what she did from him in a book! Deciding to hold her tongue and watch the clouds, she felt a relaxing sense of peace. The pulse of the surf on the beach, the sun warming her face, the wind caressing her hair lulled her into a state in which she began to pick out shapes and patterns. Amazing how I never understood until now the pastime of cloud watching, she thought. Her inexperienced imagination took a while to actually see the vivid images Gareth had described, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.
After their bodies had cooled from their run, Elena began to grow chilly in the constant breeze and she moved closer to Gareth, plastering herself to his warm side. He brought his left arm out from behind his head to caress her shoulders and back. When she continued to shiver, he sat up. "Let's move around some more. That will warm you."
Elena nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet. She stood patiently, enjoying his attentions, while he brushed the sand and grass off her back and plucked it out of her hair. When she was properly groomed, Gareth took her hand and led her further south along the coast, stopping now and again to show her a shell polished by the pounding surf or point out a sand crab as it made its way across the rough beach. They explored for the remainder of the afternoon, finally making their way back to Samuel's shop when the sun began to dip into the fathomless blue of the ocean.
The instant they stepped into the back room, Bryant accosted them. "Where have you been?" he asked Gareth in a voice uncharacteristic in its sharpness. Morgan and Cynan glanced up from their conversation, clearly surprised.
"I went down to the docks. I thought I might spend the day sailing. It's been years since I've been on the water. But those fishermen who were going out didn't have room for stowaways so I just roamed the beach. It was a beautiful day. You should have been there."
"I would have had I or anyone else here known you were leaving. You must have arisen quite early," Bryant said skeptically.
"I thought I'd better. Those fishermen usually leave before dawn."
To Elena, it was clear that Bryant was extremely jealous. Though she was well aware he was taken with her, she had given him no intimation that she favored him above friendship. As he turned to her, his hostility was quickly smothered and he asked her, "Where did you disappear to, Lady Elena? I knocked at your door several times this afternoon to see if you were feeling all right but there was no answer. Had I known you desired fresh air, I would have been more than happy to provide an escort."
"I didn't want to trouble anyone. I remembered my way to the beach from the other night. It's not that far so I just walked by myself. I met Gareth down there and he escorted me home."
Before Bryant could say anything else, Elena pointedly turned away and joined Morgan and Cynan at the fireplace. Bryant made sure to fill the empty seat next to her before Gareth had a chance to. He repeated the performance again at dinner, much to Gareth's annoyance. The meal was more subdued than the previous night's, partly due to the absence of the mead, partly due to their reduced numbers. Many of the men from the night before had returned home.
The mood lightened a bit after dinner as they sat round the fire. Samuel and Morgan took turns telling the old stories of Wales. Like the great bards who visited the king's castles, each man wove intricate stories, each trying to outdo the other.
"Well spoken, Samuel," Morgan said when the other man finished an intricate tale of Welsh history. "That is a different version than I have heard before."
"My grandfather taught it me and he was always meticulous about details," Samuel said, a bit defensively.
Elena yawned widely and loudly. Then men in the room laughed aloud but their good natured laughter did not prevent her from being mortified at her unladlylike behavior. Deciding that she need not be so concerned--this was, after all, Wales, far from court life--she stood and excused herself from the men's company. "Thank you for the enjoyable entertainment."
Gareth quickly stood before Bryant could and took her arm to escort her to her room.
At the door to her small room, Elena turned expectantly to Gareth. She knew he could not join her now, with the other men still awake, but she was determined to have a kiss--something she had been denied all evening. Lifting her head, she pressed her lips against Gareth's, waiting for him to return the kiss. When he did not, she pulled back abruptly.
"I do not wish us to be caught, Elena. My father and the others would assume I was forcing myself upon you and we would be unable to return to England until a 'suitable' escort could join us."
Elena nodded, understanding his concern though still disappointed, and went into her room. She slowly undressed and got into bed, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling. After so much time spent napping in bed today, she was not really tired, just pleasantly drowsy from the fresh air and exercise at the beach. No, she did not wish a "suitable escort" to accompany them to England. She was reveling in the pleasures she and Gareth were sharing. Should she be forced to spend the rest of her life with the Earl of Brackley, she would only have these delicious memories to sustain her. That thought dimmed some of her pleasure and she shoved it from her mind. She must concentrate on the present now, savor every moment. She stretched her arms over her head, curling her toes and flexing every muscle in her legs. When she released her stretch, she felt deliciously relaxed. I'll just close my eyes until Gareth comes, she told herself. Within minutes she was asleep.
***
It proved impossible for Gareth to get away from the other men. His father, realizing that this was the last night he would have his son before sending him into a dangerous assignment was loathe to give up his company, wanting to discuss yet again the plan for Gareth to meet up with the Welsh forces once the battle was imminent. Bryant also seemed determined not to let him out of his sight, even going so far as to follow him outside when Gareth stepped out to relieve himself.
When the four men finally made their way to the weaving room upstairs, Gareth thought he would be able to wait for his father and friends to fall asleep and then sneak downstairs, but Bryant, as if knowing what he had planned, positioned hi
mself right in front of the closed door so there was no way Gareth could open it without waking him. Frustrated, Gareth stretched out on a floor that was not near as comfortable as Elena's bed and wrapped himself in blankets that were not near as soft or warm as her velvety skin. In the utter darkness, he allowed the memories of the day and the previous night fill his head. As a result, though the hour was late, Gareth did not fall asleep for a long time.
***
Early the next morning, Elena awoke, disappointed to find herself alone. Propped up on her elbows, she wondered if Gareth had stepped outside to attend to personal business. Slowly she remembered that Gareth had not joined her at all last night, that they had not made love before sleeping comfortably entwined in the narrow bed.
With a disappointed sigh, Elena lay back down. No wonder she felt groggy. She hadn't slept well at all. As she considered it, she was amazed that she could have grown so accustomed to sleeping with someone else in just two short nights. Back home, she couldn't stand having to share her pallet with two and sometimes three other ladies-in-waiting. She reveled in the emptiness of the bed on those few nights when she had had it all to herself. Now, here she was with not only her own bed, but her own room and what did she long for? A roommate! Well, she corrected herself, not just any roommate. What she truly longed for was Gareth's company. Slowly pushing herself from bed, she began dressing, sending up a brief but heartfelt prayer of thanks that this was the last time she would have to put on her worn blue cotehardie.
She struggled to get it laced up the back, contorting her arms this way and that, and then fastened the tiny buttons up each sleeve from wrist to elbow and tried to smooth some of the wrinkles out of the skirt.
"Hopeless," she mumbled, and turned her attention to her hair which she combed out and wound in a braid. A knock at the door made her drop her comb and rush to answer it.
Cynan's craggy face and lopsided grin greeted her as his rumbling voice said, "Good morning."
"Good morning," she returned, refusing to even consider that the sinking sensation in her stomach was disappointment. She could, after all, live without the man.
"Gareth asked me to take you to your seamstress's shop to pick up your dress."
"Where is he?"
"He and his father went to gather another horse and buy supplies for your trip. Worry not," he said with a grin, "I reminded him, 'No dried beef!'"
Elena smiled and rolled her eyes. "As if I'll be so lucky." Stepping into the hall, she led the way through the shop and out the front door.
"Would you like to eat before we go?" Cynan said, walking quickly to catch up to her.
"Do you jest? I've a new gown awaiting me!"
"I should have known that would be a woman's response. You wouldn't, by any chance, know where we are going, would you?"
"You don't?" Elena paused in the narrow street.
"Do you jest?" he asked, imitating her tone.
"Is it a national trait that the Welsh are completely lost when it comes to directions?"
Cynan laughed and held his hands up in denial. "I could find my way across every mountain range in Wales and let you know exactly when and where the sun was going to set. It's just when you put a poor mountain boy in a town, he has no way to judge his surroundings. For example, look at this row of houses." Elena obliged. "They all look exactly alike. But each tree is different, each rock has it's own shape, each stream has its own path. No," he finished, shaking his head. "I can not be held accountable for finding my way in the city."
Elena laughed. "Luckily for us, I know where we are going. And, no, I don't think those houses all look exactly alike. That one there has blue trim while the one next to it has rough wood. The third one down only has one window on the street."
Cynan acceded with a gallant bow. "Very well, you are the true trailblazer, I am merely a stupid shepherd who belongs in the field with his flock."
In good conscience, Elena forced herself to admit, "No, no. To me, every tree looks just like the one before it, every rock is simply a rock and every stream is just wet. It's all just a matter of perspective, I suppose."
"You are too kind, my lady. In that case, lead on!"
Elena found the seamstress's shop much easier this time and she called out for Annie as soon as she entered the empty downstairs room. Once again, Oengus came tumbling down the stairs to ask them to please, "Come dupstairs."
The previously tidy room was considerably messier on this visit. Dirty pots were stacked haphazardly on the rough table in the kitchen and a pile of mending or laundry was heaped on a chair. Oengus's few wooden toys were strewn about the floor. Surprised, Elena glanced around for Annie and found her seated at her worktable, breaking a thread with her teeth on what looked to be the cream-colored chemise.
When Annie realized she had visitors, she stood abruptly, her face reddening as she smiled feebly. "Good morning, my lady. Please forgive my house," she pleaded. "I'm afraid I tend to let things go when I have a project."
Never fond of cleaning herself, Elena shrugged with a complete lack of concern. "It does not bother me." Pointing at the fabric in Annie's hands, she asked, "Is that mine?"
"Oh yes. I was just finishing the hem. I've finished the overgown as well."
"You had enough time then?" Elena shook her head and laughed. "Obviously you had enough time. What I meant to say was I hope you didn't have to rush unduly."
"No, my lady. It was just the right amount of time."
"Very good. I would like to try it on, then."
"Of course, my lady. Oengus," she called. When the young boy came running from the corner in which he'd been playing, she gestured to Cynan. "Take, er--"
Elena smiled. She had been here three times with as many men. Poor Annie must be wondering exactly what kind of woman she was! "Another brother," she said in order to rest the young woman's mind, though for the life of her, she didn't know what possessed her to bother.
Annie's countenance immediately cleared, but before she could instruct her son, the little boy, used to the routine by now, took Cynan's hand and led him out. "C'mon. We can't be here while lady changes."
Cynan paused at the doorway and took a leather pouch out of his shirt. Tossing it to Elena he said, "Gareth gave me the money for the dress."
Elena caught the heavy pouch and nodded. As soon as the door closed, she began struggling out of her cotehardie. When she had finally pulled it and her tattered chemise over her head, she threw them in a heap on the floor. When Annie rushed to pick up the discarded garments, Elena said, "You can burn those for all I care."
"Oh no, my lady, this is a beautiful gown."
Elena began pulling on the new chemise. "The gown is filthy and the chemise near threadbare."
"But my lady, 'tis still in good condition. I could get these spots out, for you'll need it on your journey, won't you?"
"If you can salvage it, you keep it. I am so heartily sick of the sight of it that I will not wear it ever again. We seem of a like size. I'm sure it will fit you. Now, where is my houppeland?"
"Here, my lady," Annie said, unhooking the wool dress from where it hung on a peg on the wall. Annie handed it to Elena for inspection.
"Very well done, Annie," Elena said approvingly. The work was truly that of an expert seamstress and Elena had not seen better quality in the finest shops in London or from the handiest of maids in court. Heedless of Annie's flush of pleasure and sheepish smile, Elena handed her the gown and dove under the hem. Annie lowered the dress over her head, tugging the full skirt into place. She deftly closed the laces up the back while Elena folded back the broad cuffs of the bagpipe sleeves to show the ruffled edge of the chemise.
Elena ran her hands over the soft wool, smoothing the collar of the dress and fluffing out the skirt. "I wish you had a mirror that I might see how this looked from afar."
"I do have one, my lady. 'Tis not large, but I think if I hold it at different angles for you, you should be able to see everything." Annie rushed to a l
arge chest of drawers and pulled out a mirror set in an intricately carved wooden frame. "This was my mother's. She gave it to me before we left Scotland." She pointed to a small crack in the corner of the mirror. "This happened as we journeyed here, but otherwise it survived." She climbed up onto a small stool and tilted the mirror until Elena was able to see every angle of her new gown.
"It's wonderful, Annie. You have done an exceptional job." Picking up the leather pouch of money, she asked, "Now, what was the price we had decided upon?"
Annie shyly told her but hastily added, "Unless that is too much since you are giving me this gown as well."
Had Annie been a wily London merchant, Elena would have pounced on the idea and talked the price of the gown down considerably. But for some reason, Elena found herself saying, "No, Annie. You slaved over this gown for the past three days. What you should be telling me is that you are charging me more for the inconvenience."
"Oh, no, my lady."
"Yes, Annie. This is why you've let those old hens up the street steal your sign and run off your customers--you're too nice of a person. Now look me in the eye and tell me that you are simply going to have to charge me more."
"But--"
"Annie," Elena said in her best important-lady-speaking-to-a-mere-servant voice.
The young seamstress's eyes widened but she obeyed. "I'm sorry, my lady, but I'll have to ask two-pence more for the gown."
"You'll never make any money only asking for a two-pence. Now give me a real price."
A Dishonorable Knight Page 26
