A Dishonorable Knight

by Michelle Morrison

Annie lowered her eyes and quoted a price.

  "Very well, if that is what I must pay, that is what I must pay," said Elena, opening the leather pouch. "Now, here is your price, plus some extra because I am well pleased with your work. I would suggest you take some of that money and use it to fix up the downstairs room and put a sign inside your window so it won't be stolen and people will be able to find you. As it is now, from the street this looks like an abandoned building."

  Elena picked up her skirts daintily and moved to leave. "Make those improvements soon, Annie. I will be recommending to Samuel the weaver that he should send his customers to you."

  "You are the very soul of kindness, my lady," Annie said sincerely, tears filling her eyes.

  Elena paused in the doorway. She had certainly never been called that. In fact, the other ladies of the court had often called her unkind. She found she preferred being the soul of kindness, especially when it took very little effort to achieve it. With a regal nod to the seamstress, she swept down the stairs.

  "Ooh, pretty, lady," young Oengus said, stopping his roughhousing with Cynan.

  Cynan hopped to his feet. "You are indeed a vision, Lady Elena."

  "Thank you. Good bye, Oengus."

  "Goobye," he said.

  Once outside, Elena led the way back towards Samuel's shop. "You and Bryant will return with Morgan to Eyri Keep, then?"

  "Aye, my lady. I'm missing Enid fiercely. It seems harder to be away from her knowing she's carrying our babe."

  With a sincerity she truly felt, Elena said, "I will miss traveling with you and Bryant. You both have treated me with the utmost courtesy."

  Cynan laughed. "'Unlike our surly friend Gareth, eh? You must pay him no mind, Elena. Gareth must be sorely taken with you to act so rudely these past weeks."

  Elena sensed Cynan could be a wealth of information regarding Gareth's feelings if she could lead him in the right direction. Slowing her pace so they would not reach Samuel's before she found out what she wanted to know, she said innocently, "Gareth taken with me?"

  "Of course, we all are!" Cynan said good-naturedly. "Why Bryant is so lovesick, he forgets to eat unless I prod him. The only thing that has saved me is the fact that I am a devoted husband. Were it not for my dear Enid, I would no doubt be as melancholy as Bryant or as surly as Gareth."

  Elena knew Bryant's feelings. They were evident is his puppy eyes every time he looked at her. Cynan might as well be her brother for her feelings toward him. What she wanted was details of Gareth's feelings. "I don't agree with you about Gareth." It was one of her best strategies, arguing just the opposite. Usually, she used the technique when men said they loved her. If she protested, they would spend their very breath proving to her that it was true. "I fear he can't stand to be in the same room with me."

  "No, no. That is not the case at all. You see, Gareth usually treats all ladies with the utmost respect. He takes his vows of chivalry very seriously."

  Elena frowned. She did not want to hear how well Gareth treated other women.

  Cynan saw her frown and smiled as he continued. "But Gareth cared not a whit about any of the women. In fact, they interested him not the least. Then you come along and he is outright rude to you. He claimed at first that it was because you were a self-centered, uncaring little brat."

  Elena's frown deepened. This was not what she wanted to hear.

  "Which of course you aren't," Cynan quickly added. "But I interpreted that to mean that you had snubbed his overture to you and it had cut him to the quick. That it would hurt him could only mean he truly fancied you and rudeness was his only defense."

  That was a little more like it, Elena thought. "But has he said aught of his true feelings to you?" she asked and immediately cringed. That question was anything but subtle.

  "Nary a word. But give me more credit than Gareth, good lady. Though I may seem rough and crass, I can read my friends well and I know what I have said is true." They walked in silence for several seconds before Cynan spoke again. "Perhaps this is not an appropriate subject for me to be discussing, especially since you will be traveling alone with him for the next week. But you need not fear him, Lady Elena. Gareth is, above all things, honorable. No matter what his feelings toward you, he would never force himself upon you."

  Elena considered their last bout of lovemaking. No, if anything, she had forced herself on him. It was comical that she should be pretending to Cynan that she was the demure and worried lady when she was looking forward to being alone with Gareth for the very reason that she wanted him to make love to her!

  Searching for something to keep the conversation going, she said, "Bryant believes otherwise."

  "I know. But he is very jealous. He is jealous that Gareth will get to spend time with you this next week while he must return to Eyri Keep. Perhaps he also sees that Gareth is taken with you and fears he will use this time with you to win your heart." Cynan paused. "I'm sure you must find this entire conversation highly unusual. I'm not even sure how it started." Elena looked at him blandly. "But I guess what I am trying to say is this: should things not go as you might hope once you return to Richard's court, you can rest assured that Gareth will do all he can to protect you and help you. Should you wish, he will even bring you back to Wales where you would have your choice of husbands."

  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 peop
le 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.

  Chapter 21

  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.

&nbs
p; 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.