A Dishonorable Knight

Chapter 20

Late that afternoon, their lungs crying out for fresh air, their muscles longing for a position other than supine, Gareth and Elena dressed and snuck out of the house, Elena going first to determine if anyone would be about to see Gareth leaving her room. Like a couple of children, they ducked out the shop's front door and ran down the street towards the rocky beach they had briefly visited their first night in Aberystwyth. Once there, they continued their child-like behavior, chasing seagulls down the shore, skipping stones across the water, and dispelling the slumberous clouds that had filled their heads during their lazy day in bed.

The day was bright and sunny with high white clouds dotting an otherwise flawless blue sky. Despite the vigor of the sun, a stiff breeze off the ocean gave the air a tangible briskness that tingled in Elena's cheeks and occasionally brought the sting of tears to her eyes. The beach was deserted and Elena gave no thought to hiking her skirts to her knees as she ran the length of the shallow cove in which the ships docked at Aberystwyth. The coarse sand and smooth rocks went unnoticed beneath her thin-soled boots as she ran. Her blood sang in her veins and she inhaled the crisp air in great, heaving breaths, feeling totally and completely alive. Glancing over her shoulder, Elena was delighted to see Gareth giving chase behind her, his own cheeks ruddy, his unruly hair for once completely off his forehead as the wind caught it and tugged it behind him. Though he could have easily caught her, he remained at her heels, playfully grabbing at her skirts and her hair, which had come, unbound and now streamed out behind her. Long before she reached the end of the cove, she slowed to a stop and flung herself down on a patch of coarse grass, winded and warm, despite the cool breeze. Gareth joined her on the earthen bed, stretching out beside her, his hands behind his head, his breathing only slightly labored.

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 himself 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 large 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."

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 people 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.