A Dishonorable Knight (58 page)

"What? Of course I--"

"No, no," Elena
interrupted, "think. Are you really the same or have you changed in any
way?"

Gareth stared at her as he thought of
her question and Elena had to suppress a giggle. At times, he really was so
easy to maneuver and she loved him for it.

"I suppose I have changed in the
way I think and act. Certainly in the way I feel about you. I used to hate you,
you know."

"I know," Elena said
ruefully. "Now don't you think I have changed in many ways as well?"

"I don't know, you still seem to
demand--and get--your way continuously," he said wryly.

When Elena merely glared at him in
response, he said, "Yes, you have changed considerably since first we
met."

Placated, Elena continued with her
strategy. "Yes, I have. And part of that change has been to realize just
what is important in life. I've come to learn that love and happiness mean more
than wealth or power.
You've
taught
me those things." Elena began to think that Gareth was going to force her
into saying exactly what she meant and she didn't know if she could be
that
humble. Thinking of how much she
loved him, she decided she could, but before she could open her mouth, he
spoke.

"Does that mean you could settle
for a drafty Welsh keep with a beautiful view of the mountains?"

Elena laughed at his non-proposal
but decided it was better than no proposal. "Do you come with it?"

"Of course."

"Then I can settle for a mud
shack."

Gareth grabbed her into his arms once
again and swung her off her feet. She stifled the urge to squeal in delight for
fear that the men at the campfire would come running. When he finally put her
back on the ground he kissed her firmly and Elena felt herself growing warmer
with their shared passion.

"How is it that in just a few
hours I could go from complete despair over Cynan to ecstatic joy?" she
asked when their lips finally parted.

"Because Cynan would have
preferred us to be joyful," Gareth replied solemnly. "He found joy in
everything and it is only right that we celebrate that joy and remember him for
it."

Elena nodded in agreement. As she
hugged her fiancée tightly, she looked to the night sky and gasped.

"What is it?" Gareth asked.

"I just saw a shooting star. Do
you think it is a bad omen?"

"No. I think it was Cynan."

"Gareth?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

An eagle screamed high above the
mountains that sheltered Eyri Keep. The last of the snow covering the shallow
valley in which the keep sat had melted and pale green grass shoots and crocus
buds were peeking out to inspect the soft spring day. Inside the keep, a woman
screamed in pain.

"I hate you Gareth ap
Morgan," Elena shouted, twisting the bed linens as another strong
contraction swept over her.

"That's what you said when
little Meg was born, darling."

Elena panted shallowly. "I mean
it this time."

"Of course you do my love."

Enid entered the bedroom with a stack
of clean linens. "Really, Elena," she teased, "you're scaring
poor Bryant. He can hear you all the way downstairs. He's beginning to feel
guilty about what I'll be going through soon." Enid smoothed her wool gown
over her swelling abdomen and smiled.

"Well he should feel
guilty," Elena said, gritting her teeth and trying to breathe through the
pain. "And you would too, you oaf," she said, addressing her grinning
husband, "if you had any feelings whatsoever."

Gareth leaned down and kissed her
sweaty brow. "I have more feelings than you know."

The door opened again and a
three-year-old boy stuck his head in. "Momma," Cynan's son said,
"Papa Bryant just threw up."

Enid rolled her eyes and after
ordering her son out of the room, said to Gareth. "You can either stay
here and take your wife's abuse, or you can go down there and help my husband
get some fresh air."

"What a choice!" Gareth
said.

"Make sure," Elena said in
between breaths. "Make sure Meg is alright, too."

"As you wish, sweet."

Gareth kissed his wife's forehead
again stared at her damp face with worry he refused to voice. Leaving the
sunlit room, he went in search of his queasy friend. He found Bryant just
outside the front door, sitting outside on an overturned barrel, his head in
his hands.

"Don't tell me the man who
marched into battle without flinching has been brought to his knees by a
woman's labor pains."

Bryant lifted a pale face.
"Don't you tell me her pains don't affect you!"

Gareth's grin faded. "Of course
they do." Sitting on the stone steps into the keep, Gareth sighed. "I
guess I forgot how much pain she went through having Meg. Once the baby is born
and all is well, the bad parts just seem to fade."

The two men were silent for several
seconds before Bryant spoke. "Gareth, do you think it's alright that I
married Enid?"

"What?" Gareth asked.
"Of course it's alright. Why would you think otherwise?"

"I sometimes feel guilty about
it. As if I had loved Enid even when Cynan was alive and that I just took
advantage of his death and her helplessness."

Gareth laughed and then quickly
smothered it at his friend's worried expression. "I'm sorry, Bryant, but
the thought of Enid helpless is amusing."

"You know what I mean,"
Bryant said with exasperation.

"I know. But what I also know is
that you never thought of Enid as anything more than a friend until last year.
And I also know that Cynan would have chosen you above all others to be a
father to his son."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes."

As if embarrassed by the intimacy of
their conversation, the two men fell silent for several minutes. Finally,
Bryant said, "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

A loud crash behind them was followed
by a small child's loud wail. Both men quickly stood and entered the hall.
"It's mine," Gareth said when he saw his daughter sitting on the
floor in a puddle of honey. The metal pitcher that had held the sticky stuff
was overturned at her feet. "Oh Meggy," her father said. Crossing to
her, he picked her up under the arms and held her away from him as blobs of
honey dripped off of her. "Cleaning you up aught to take all day."

Cynan's young son ran into the main
hall to see what
all the
racket was. Pointing to the
sticky mess, he said to his stepfather, "Meg made a mess!"

"Yes she did," Bryant
agreed, his mood visibly lightening.

***

That evening, Gareth knocked lightly
on the door to his bedchamber and then entered. A bank of candles gave the room
a soft golden glow and bathed his wife in their radiance. As he entered, he
decided that is was her radiance that lit the room instead. She was propped up
on several pillows, her glorious hair spilling over one shoulder as she held
their new baby against the other. "Hello my love," he said.

She looked up and smiled. "Come
meet your son."

He carefully eased himself onto the
bed beside her and curled his arm around her. Pressing a kiss to her
sweet-smelling hair, he looked at the tiny sleeping face that was pressed
against her breast. "He is beautiful."

"I rather think so," she
agreed, smiling at the man who had given her the richest gifts in her life,
starting with his love.

Turning his attention back to her, he
traced her satiny cheek with his forefinger, relishing its softness. Losing
himself in the cinnamon-warmth of her eyes, he said, "Do you still
hate me?"

"I never did."

"Do you still love me?"

"I never stopped."

Yes its true, Michelle did marry her
very own knight in shining armor. Years ago (read, "before kids"),
Michelle's love of medieval history and all things Brittish led her to the SCA,
a medieval re-creation group. There she got to see how sword and shield battles
occurred first hand, and learned just how hard it was to camp and cook with a
train and big drapey sleeves. But she also met her future husband there and the
rest, as they say, is history.
Writing has always been a part of Michelle's life and it was love of writing
that led her to graduate magna cum laude with a degree in Professional Writing
which she then used to write and edit technical manuals and reports for Los
Alamos National Labs and Sandia National Labs. Needless to say, such writing
left her craving something
....jucier
. Around this
time, she read her first historical romance (by the amazing Judith McNaught)
and she was hooked!
Her first book (which hopefully you will
never read!) was soon followed by other, much better manuscripts
(which
hopefully you will read!).
Today, in addition to writing novels, Michelle is owner of a dance studio,
dance instructor (belly dance, if you must know) and director of a professional
dance company (Farfesha Belly Dance). She has also produced three instructional
videos and teaches workshops around the world.
Michelle is married (see above, KISA) with two beautiful daughters (one of whom
is a budding novelist herself) and one very spoiled, but very sweet Labrador
Retriever
. She lives in Albuquerque, NM.

If you liked this book, check out
The King’s Rebel
, also available on
Amazon!