A Dishonorable Knight

Chapter 19

Elena opened her eyes to the late morning sun pouring in the small, high window. She stretched lazily, feeling like a cat full of cream and napping in the sunlight, so content was she. Gareth's warm back was pressed against her side and she rolled over, sliding her arm around his waist and pressing her breasts to his warm skin as images of the past night flashed through her mind. A smile warmed her lips as she thought of the heretofore unguessed-at pleasures Gareth had treated her body to. Never again would she be able to hear a young bride warned against the unpleasantness of the wedding night without laughing. Unpleasantness indeed!

The thought of a wedding night dimmed Elena's smile. Once again she worried she would not be able to convince Richard to break her betrothal to Brackley. She had thought to beg him to betroth her to Lord Edgeford, but the thought of marriage to the pasty young lord was suddenly as distasteful as that to Brackley had been.

Elena's hand eased itself down along Gareth's hip, her nails absently scratching the muscled thigh. She inhaled sharply, a vision of herself as the lady of Eyri Keep filling her mind, and this time she did not fight it. Unbidden, a series of images paraded through her head: the keys of Eyri Keep at her belt as she instructed servants on the renovations of the stone lodging; Enid and she laughing at the antics of Gareth and Cynan as they played with children (Children? a disbelieving voice in her head asked); Gareth coaxing the peasants at her parent's estate into producing more than her father had ever been able to wheedle; endless nights spent just like the previous one.

Elena sighed. She had never in her life experienced uncertainty. Fear, yes--had not the last month taught her that emotion well?--but never uncertainty. She had no idea how she would even go about making those visions reality. From his derision of her engagement, she was most certain Gareth would insist on loving his wife and she really had no idea if he cared for her in that way at all. She had been making men fall in love with her since she was barely a woman with a smile here, a look there, but Gareth was different from all those men. Had she not had that very thought a hundred times before? He was different and she wasn't sure she could make him love her as she had all those others. She was beginning to realize that what she had heretofore thought of as love was in fact nothing more than empty infatuation.

Elena pressed her lips to Gareth’s warm, smooth back. The wild thought that she should simply admit her feelings to him and propose marriage made her heart pound so that she feared he would feel it beating against his back. No, she could do that! Perhaps if she implied that since he had taken her virginity, he was not obligated to marry her.

With a newfound maturity, Elena realized that she would not coax Gareth into marriage simply based on their two nights spent together. She had given herself to him freely and to backtrack and say that he now owed her something was not honorable. Besides, she wanted a man who felt obligated to wed her even less than one who saw her as a witless prize to be won.

Wishing her problems would simply solve themselves and determined not to spoil the present by worrying over them, Elena pushed herself to her elbow and began nibbling on Gareth's ear. He swatted lazily in the general vicinity of his ear before slipping back into a deep slumber. Elena giggled as she wiggled up further on the bed to gain a better position. Taking a strand of her long hair, she tickled his nose with the end of it, straining not to laugh as he wiggled and rubbed it. Finally unable to stand it any longer, Elena rolled Gareth onto his back and climbed on top of him, tickling him and poking him playfully.

Gareth squinted at the bright light and groggily raised his head.

"Wake up, you slug-a-bed, wake up! Or I shall tickle you until you do!"

"You think so, do you?" he grumbled, his voice deliciously deep and raspy with sleep.

"Aye, that I do!" she said with a laugh.

So quickly that she did not even realize what was happening, Gareth bucked her off of him and rolled over to smother her with his weight, his fingers tickling her ribs, her ears, and the tender skin behind her knees. Elena's short scream of laughter was swallowed by Gareth's mouth. Immediately, Elena's mirth subsided as she gave herself over to the languorous pleasure of his kiss.

A knock on the door caused them both to jump guiltily and move to opposite sides of the bed, clutching the covers between them. "Yes?" Elena called out. The door, which never quite latched all the way, was open a crack.

"Pardon, good lady," came Samuel's voice through the door. "I was wondering if you were alright. We heard you yelp."

Elena's experience at fabricating excuses for Lady Elizabeth quickly rose to the surface. "Oh yes, I'm quite alright. I stubbed my toe as I was getting back into bed, that's all."

"Oh, of course, my lady. We have some fresh milk and early berries if you will be arising soon."

"Thank you but I'm not feeling well this morning. I think it must have been the mead last night. I believe I will remain abed this morning if not all day." Elena smiled mischievously in response to Gareth's raised eyebrows.

"Ah, um, very good." The voice paused hesitantly. "My lady?"

"Yes?"

"You wouldn't have happened to know where Gareth disappeared to, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Elena said, enjoying the look of horror in Gareth's widened eyes. "He knocked on my door earlier this morning to check on me and he told me he was going down to the dock today to see if he could sail out with one of the fishermen."

"Fishermen, my lady?"

"Yes, I believe he is thinking of becoming a fisherman, should his career as a knight not prove lucrative."

Gareth bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"Oh," said Samuel. "Well, uh, I'm sorry to have disturbed you. Thank you." They could hear Samuel shuffling from foot to foot outside the door. "Sleep well, Lady Elena."

"Thank you Samuel."

"If you need anything, just holler, er, call."

"I will do that. Good bye Samuel."

"Er... goodbye."

Elena pushed the door closed again, wedging her boots against it to keep it from opening again, and flopped back down onto the bed, her arms cradling her head as she looked at Gareth with a cocky grin.

"Remind me not to believe a word you say through a closed door," Gareth said before he bent down and kissed her on the nose.

"You don't know how many times I had to tell King Richard that Lady Elizabeth was ill, when really all she wanted was to avoid his continuing attempts to convince her to marry him."

"Was he that persistent?"

"Oh yes." Elena said, preoccupied. She wondered if Elizabeth had viewed wedding Richard with the same distaste she viewed wedding Brackley. Against her will, Elena thought of the other complaints against King Richard. There were the missing nephews, of course. She had always avoided thinking of them because if Richard had caused them to be done away with, what might he do to a mere lady-in-waiting should she displease him?

"Why do you think he was so adamant that she marry him? Did he love her?" Gareth asked.

"I don't see how. They rarely spent any time together and she was always exceedingly cold to him."

"Then what made him continue his pursuit?" Gareth asked as he lay down beside her and ran his hands over her smooth stomach.

"I imagine he thought marrying her would quiet any speculation that he didn't belong on the throne."

"Don't you think that was wrong of him?"

"I suppose." The subject of Richard on her mind, Elena asked, "I still don’t understand why you have decided to return to him? I thought you disagreed with everything he stands for."

Gareth was obviously uncomfortable and toyed absently with her breast, apparently unaware that her breathing was growing more ragged.

"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.

"I believe I enjoy baiting you almost as much as Cynan loves to rile me," he said with a wicked grin.

Elena's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. She concentrated on giving Gareth her most thorough look of supreme displeasure, waiting for him to squirm and apologize for taunting her. To her utter chagrin, Gareth's smile only broadened. Afraid her facial muscles could not hold the grimace one more minute, she allowed Gareth to kiss her back into a good mood.

"Just a warning, Gareth ap Morgan: I detest merely arguing for the sake of arguing. Don't play the devil's advocate with me."

"You have my word. I shall only provoke you when I truly disagree with you."

Elena shook her head as she snuggled against the curve of Gareth's chest. "For some reason, that does not comfort me."