A Dishonorable Knight (36 page)

"He's the king. That's all there
is to it." Gareth bent and took Elena's mouth in a thorough kiss that
erased all thought of kings or princesses from her mind.

Some time later, Elena brought up a
related topic. "What will we tell the king when we return? How will we
explain why we've been gone so long?"

Gareth chewed his upper lip for
several seconds before answering. "I think we should stick as close to the
truth as possible." He paused in thought before continuing. "We'll
tell them we became separated from Richard's party in the ambush and thinking
we were still being followed, we led the bandits away from Richard's route,
west into Wales. We'll say Cynan was wounded--"

"Why Cynan?"

"Or Bryant. It doesn't matter.
We'll simply use that as an excuse for going to Eyri Keep. We'll say we stayed
there until we were able to return to England."

Elena shook her head. "No, that
won't work. Richard will ask why we didn't just drop off the wounded man and
then return. Why don't you tell him I was injured and my horse
killed.
That will explain why I no longer have it and why we
weren't able to leave sooner."

She was pleased by the impressed look
on his face. "Very good." Gareth's countenance dimmed as he sat in
thought. "If Richard would be sharp enough to determine that we could
return without Cynan or Bryant, wouldn't he ask why we didn't simply stop at
the manor of one of the border lords?"

"Do you know where any of their
keeps are?"

"Not really. I usually travel as
the crow flies and miss all the towns and manors."

"There you go," Elena said,
delighted that Gareth was not only letting her help plan their story, but
applauding her sharpness.

"That, my sweet lady, deserves a
kiss."

"Just a kiss?" she asked
coyly.

***

By noon the lovers were famished,
though both were loath to leave the sanctuary of the small room. A gentle knock
on the door stopped their whispered plans to get food.

"My lady? '
Tis
I, Bryant.
Are you alright?"

"Of course I am."

"Of course," Bryant
repeated and then paused. "I grew worried because you haven't left you
room all morning."

"Well, I've been sleeping and
attending private matters."

Gareth mouthed the words
"private matters," and grinned wickedly. Elena slapped him playfully
on the shoulder.

"Is there anything I can do for
you?" Bryant's solicitous voice interrupted their play.

Stifling a laugh, Elena responded,
"Actually, I am rather hungry--starving, actually. I feel like I could eat
enough for two."

"Shall I bring you something to
eat or would you like to come out. I could set up a cozy table for you."

"I believe I would prefer to
dine in here."

Disappointment evident in his voice,
Bryant acquiesced.

"Oh, and Bryant?"

"Yes, my lady?" Hope sprang
eternal.

"Please bring big portions. I'm
very hungry."

"Of course, my lady."

Elena and Gareth listened to Bryant's
footsteps recede. "You know he fancies himself in love with you, don't
you."

Elena shrugged. "I had long
suspected as much."

"You're not surprised?"

"'Tis not the first time a man
has been in love with me and 'twill not be the last, I am sure," Elena put
a sardonic emphasis on the word “love.”

Gareth shook his head and grinned.
"You don't believe in the word 'modesty,' do you Elena?"

"Modesty? Of course I believe in
it. I'm very modest."

"Then how about humility?"

"What good does humility
do
a woman? It merely gets her wedded to a man of her
parents' choosing long before she's ready to suffer the chores of marriage.
Or," she continued, heedless of Gareth's prodding smile. "Or it gets
her sent to a convent where she spends her days on her knees praying and
scrubbing floors."

"Scrubbing floors?" Gareth
asked, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Do you realize the heresy
you speak? It would do you no good should the wrong people hear you speak
such."

Elena laughed. "What 'wrong
people'?"

"Oh, let me think. Parents,
husbands, brothers, noblemen, clergymen."

"Worry no longer that I will be
locked away for my insanity. Besides Catherine and Margaret, the only person
I've quoted such blasphemy to is you."

“Who are Catherine and
Margaret?"

"Two of the other
ladies-in-waiting."

"And how do they respond to your
opinions?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "Well,
Catherine thinks I am incredibly brave and destined for greatness. Margaret
simply disdains me."

Gareth frowned. "Why should she
disdain you?"

"Since she is one whose
'humility' is leading her to a convent, she regards me as nothing more than a
self-centered, money-hungry schemer who has no interest in love and little
thought for the hearts of others."

"And do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you have no interest in
love?"

Elena paused, suddenly wary.
"Well of course I do.”

“It's just that, well, there are
other things to consider," he finished. “Like money and power."

Elena did not know how to confess
that such things no longer seemed to have the sway over her decisions they once
did. The realization was still rather new to her. "They do help make life
more secure," she prevaricated, refusing to meet his eyes.

"But if you were faced with a
choice: to marry for power and wealth or to marry someone who loved you more
than life itself, which would you choose?"

Feeling as if she were trapped, and
not at all ready to admit her budding feeling when she knew not if they were
returned, she said, "I detest hypothetical questions. The king has already
made his decision regarding whom I shall marry.”

Gareth persisted. "But what if
you are successful in convincing Richard to break your engagement? What if you
do face that question in the future? What would you choose? Love or
money?"

Elena’s heart was pounding in her
chest. The trap was beginning to close. Panic and fear replaced her carefully
honed poise and confidence. She gazed into his eyes. The emotion she saw in
them was intense, focused solely on her. She fancied she saw his deepest
emotions in them. Deciding to take the biggest risk of her life, Elena drew a
breath to speak—

A knock at the door interrupted her.

"Who is it?" she asked
instead, unsure if she were relieved or disappointed by the interruption.

"Bryant, my lady. I have your
dinner."

Elena scrambled to her feet and
tugged on her chemise. "Just a moment," she called. In a whisper, she
asked Gareth, "Where are you going to hide?"

He pointed to the door and gestured
that he would hide behind it while she opened it. Nodding, Elena smoothed her
hair and slowly opened the door, careful not to open it too wide and bang
Gareth in the face. Smiling at Bryant who was staring in embarrassed shock at
her chemise she took the heavy tray from him. "You are an angel, Bryant.
This looks delicious," she said as she sniffed the thick stew. She turned
and set the tray on the small table, noticing with chagrin Gareth's breeches
lying on the floor. Whirling around, she started to close the door, only to
have Bryant stop it with his hand. Sure that he was going to ask
who
else was in the room with her, she scowled at him,
hoping to intimidate him into leaving.

Bryant flushed and stammered,
"I--I'm sorry, Lady Elena. I just wanted to make sure there was nothing
else you required."

"No, nothing. I'm well supplied
now. I believe I will continue to rest this day as Gareth mentioned we would be
leaving tomorrow. 'Twill not be long before I'm missing the comforts of a soft
bed and watertight roof."

Bryant nodded, but kept the door
propped
open,
despite Elena's gentle pushing.
"Have you seen Gareth today?"

Trying to remember what she had told
Samuel earlier that morning, Elena shook her head. "Nay, I haven't seen
him, though he did knock on my door this morning to see if I needed
anything."

Bryant seemed relieved by her news
and said, "I hope you enjoy your meal. Rest well, my lady and simply call
out if you need anything at all."

Elena smiled sweetly. "Thank
you. Be assured I will do so." She tried to close the door but Bryant held
it open again. Elena quickly switched from a smile to a questioning glance, her
left eyebrow raised imperiously in an expression she had long perfected. As
always, it worked immediately.

"Excuse me," Bryant said,
quickly removing his hand from the door and stepping back. "Good
day."

Elena nodded and firmly closed the
door. Turning to Gareth, who was holding his shirt clutched to his waist, she
suddenly felt uncomfortable, her unspoken confession hanging heavily in the
air. Whirling around, she threw herself onto the bed, hoping to regain the
seductive playfulness in which they had been swathed for the past twelve hours.
As if sensing her plan, Gareth pulled on his shirt and moved to bring the tray
to the bed. Setting it on the soft mattress, he carefully sat on the end of the
bed opposite Elena.

"What have we here?" he
asked, as casually as if they did this all the time: dining half naked in bed
after having just made love. Gareth sniffed the stew appreciatively and pulled
back a linen cloth to reveal a large chunk of cheese, a half a loaf of bread,
fresh fruit, and some sort of desert tart.

Elena picked up the spoon. "I
should have asked for two utensils."

Gareth laughed. "No, that would
not have looked suspicious. What would you have given for an excuse?" In a
falsetto voice, he joked, "Dear, angelic Bryant, I am so hungry I need two
spoons so that I may shovel in my food with both hands."

The awkwardness of a few moments
before quickly dissipated.
Affecting mock offense at Gareth's impersonation, Elena
broke off a bit of bread and pelted him in the face with it. Surprised at the
attack, he hesitated only a moment before snatching up the missile and
launching it back at her. The ensuing bread fight was accompanied by whispered
threats and laughter smothered into pillows. It ended abruptly when Elena took
a handful of juicy berries and crammed them into Gareth's laughing mouth. His
eyes widened as he tried to swallow the mouthful, sweet juices running down his
chin. Transfixed, Elena grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, leaning over
the
tray which
separated them, to kiss the juice from
his mouth and chin.

When the kiss finally broke, the food
was nearly forgotten but for an indignant rumbling from the depths of Gareth's
stomach. They both laughed and Gareth said, "Pray forgive me, sweet lady.
I would gladly satisfy your appetite--" he raised his eyebrows
suggestively-- "but I fear I will faint with hunger if I do not first
satisfy this hunger," he finished, patting his stomach.

Elena rolled her eyes. "Heaven
forbid the ever strong and valiant Sir Gareth should do something so weak and
detestable as faint! Hey there! You need not devour everything before I get a
bite! I have been without food as long as you, now hand over that spoon."

A good while later,
their
several appetites satiated, they lay in comfortable
companionship on the narrow pallet comparing stories of their childhood.

"You mean to tell me,"
Elena asked incredulously. "That you did not learn to read until you
became a squire?"

Gareth frowned defensively.
"'Tis not that uncommon for a lad to wait until his training to learn his
letters. When did you learn to read?"

Elena squinted her eyes in
concentration. "I must have been six or seven."

"Six or seven? You are pulling
my leg."

"No, no. Truly, I learned to
read and write when I was but a young child."

"Well that is more unusual than
me not learning until I was a young man. Besides," he argued, a thought
occurring to him. "There are many a churchman who would say it was wrong
of your parents to teach you to read at all, you being a girl and all."

"And what would be their
reasoning for such a claim?" Elena asked, baiting him.

Gareth shrugged. "Ask a
churchman. I just listen to what they preach and most of them say women should
not read."

"Then perhaps 'tis time for a
new church."

Gareth laughed aloud before catching
himself and pressing his hand to his mouth. "Now I know you are pulling my
leg. A new church indeed."

"It could happen--"

“Now, now, you would claim it is
God’s will that women are granted the same intelligence as men? What an
unwomanly notion!”

Elena was torn between screeching at
him or hitting him over the head when she caught the glimmer in his eye and a
twitching muscle near his mouth that belied his antagonistic remarks.