A Dishonorable Knight

Chapter 25

Elena spent her next few days enjoying the comforts of velvet gowns, down-stuffed pillows, hot meals, sweet deserts, music in the background, and hours spent embroidering with the other ladies. After she had entertained them with a carefully constructed story of her adventures, they had returned to the normal court gossip of flirtatious intrigue and fashion faux pas--or so it seemed. Elena could not help but suspect that the old rumors surrounding her virtue were resurfacing. Though she seemed to have resumed her position as cherished handmaiden, there was something different about the entire court's attitude toward her, especially the other ladies-in-waiting. As Elena worked on embroidering a tapestry one afternoon, she wondered if perhaps it was her attitude towards them that had changed. Mayhap both. Certainly she tired more rapidly of the inane banter the women often indulged in. The political machinations of court seemed somehow more vulgar and blatant than she remembered them. And lately, when she had been attending Richard, she seemed to feel an odd repugnance. He was constantly in a foul mood, yelling at his advisors, attendants, and serfs alike. At one time or another during his daylong meetings with advisors, he accused everyone in his court of conspiring to dethrone him. Whenever Elena brought refreshments into the map-strewn study where he spent hours each day planning his defense against Henry Tudor, Richard regarded her warily, as if he suspected her of eavesdropping or snooping through his papers. No more did he have flattering words for her. Not once did he ask after her family, bidding her send his regards to her mother when next she wrote as he had before they left Middleham castle all those weeks ago.

Elena paused to rethread her needle, judging the effect of the tapestry. Its base was of heavy gold fabric and onto it she was working an intricate design of pomegranates, vines, and lions in rich jewel-colored silk threads. Returning to her work, her reflection of her present life resumed.

More and more she seemed to be spending time alone, sewing or staring out the window at the men practicing for war. During those times, like now, she did not have to decipher the veiled hostility of the other women of the court and she was free to let her mind wander. More often than not, her mind led her willingly to thoughts of Gareth and his last-minute declaration of love. Over and over she replayed that scene in the bailey. She saw the intense look on his face as he realized they were about to be separated. She could hear his voice, low and hoarse as he said, "I love you!" In her mind she stared at his face as her skittish horse was dragged away and she was lifted from its saddle. Sometimes, when she was feeling particularly alienated from the other members of court, she would rearrange that last scene. She would have Gareth proclaim his love right before they reached Nottingham castle. Then, instead of entering the great gates, they would turn and ride as fast as they could across the landscape and not stop until they reached Eyri Keep where they would marry.

Other times--times that made her cheeks flame with embarrassment and excitement--she would imagine the words escaping him in the heat of passion. Or in the tender quiet afterwards when they lay in each other's arms. Regardless of how the scenario began, it always ended the same: with their return to Eyri Keep. Eyri Keep had become an ideal in her mind where she was cherished without having to manipulate others, where she was admired without hostility, where Enid and Elen had proven themselves to be true friends who did not pretend to like her one moment and disdain her the next. And Eyri Keep was the place where she would look forward to her husband's return. As it stood now, she was dreading word of Brackley's return to Nottingham.

Catherine, the previously timid kitten, had somehow grown claws in the intervening weeks and had informed Elena that her fiancée had not been overly dismayed to learn of her disappearance and that he had, in fact, shown her, Catherine, undeniable partiality of late. Catherine had rambled on a great deal about the questions that were arising concerning Elena's good name after having spent so much time alone with a man. She had also made it quite clear that she felt she was infinitely more suited to being the earl's wife than was Elena. Elena had long ago learned the value of keeping her mouth shut on certain topics and she knew that should she say anything regarding her reluctance to wed the earl--especially to Catherine--the words would quickly find their way into Richard's ear.

Elena would have liked nothing better than to see Catherine wed to the repugnant man instead of herself, but considering Richard's mood of late, she knew that she must be very careful about how she broached the subject of her betrothal lest he grow enraged and wed her to Brackley immediately out of spite.

Her hands shaky at the thought of the earl, Elena stabbed her thumb with her needle as she took a stitch.

"Damn!" she exclaimed, dropping the thread and squeezing the offended digit. A bright red drop of blood welled out of the prick and she moved instinctively to put her thumb in her mouth. She paused, hand in midair as she remembered her mother telling her that blood from a seamstress's hand rubbed into a seam brought good luck to the wearer of the garment. Elena found a bright red flower on the tapestry and rubbed her thumb on it. The cloth would not be worn, but perhaps if hung in her room, would bring her good luck. At this point, she reflected, she needed all the good luck she could get.

A knock at the door was quickly followed by a page who brought word that the new Countess of Salisbury was in residence and King Richard charged his ladies-in-waiting to attend her on a horseback ride about the castle grounds.

Elena left her needlework and the privacy of the large sewing room to quickly change her clothes and join the small group of women gathered in the great hall. Amongst the women were Richard and another well-dressed man Elena assumed was the Earl of Salisbury. Presently they were joined by a regal looking woman of perhaps thirty who was closely attended by a smug looking Catherine. Elena wondered again when Catherine had grown so cocky but with a mental shrug of her shoulders, attributed it to life in the court. Thank my stars I have never been so worried about my position in Richard's court, she thought, with only a touch of irony.

Richard presented the small group of ladies to the Countess and Elena suppressed an instinctual feeling of danger when Richard merely mentioned her name to the countess and moved on to the next lady. Every other time Elena had attended his noble guests, Richard had made a special emphasis when introducing her. He had told this Duchess or that Lord that Elena was his prized attendant, or that as they were his favorite vassal, so must they have his favorite lady attend them. As a result, Elena had been showered with gifts and had been privy to many conversations she would have otherwise been excluded from had Richard not made a point to recognize her value and importance. That he was now ranking her with the group of ladies who were only trusted to prepare trays of edibles and help arrange skirts was unnerving.

As the ladies were helped onto their horses and began riding around the bailey, Elena ignored Catherine's inane chatter to the countess. She instead mulled over the loss of her status as the king's favorite. To her surprise, she found it did not bother her, but she did worry at Richard's reasons for it. Had he merely grown weary of her or were there greater reasons for his recent coldness towards her. Elena was not oblivious to the fact that people disappeared from court, never to be seen again. She was also aware that if Richard thought she had gained any sympathies to Henry Tudor during her stay in Wales, if he had somehow found out that she was in the very house where Tudor plans were being laid, her life would be very short indeed. All her protestations of innocence, all her vows of loyalty would mean nothing, for Richard dealt quickly and harshly with those suspected of betraying him from his highest advisor to the lowest serf.

Elena thought of the court she had attended just a few nights past. She had held her breath while Richard had questioned Gareth for she knew that Richard would have never wasted court time questioning a knight unless he doubted that knight's loyalty. That he had not charged Gareth with any crime did not relieve her of that worry. Should Gareth have any enemies in this court, or should anyone discover that they had been to Aberstwyth, his life would be forfeit quicker than hers would.

The small group of women rode around the perimeter walls to the far corner of the bailey where men were training with swords, shields, and pikes. While the other ladies chatted and laughed with the countess, pointing out the most handsome knight or the most adept with the sword, Elena sat still on her horse, mesmerized by the sight of Gareth, who leaned against a cart on the far side of the training soldiers. Bareheaded, shirt sleeves pushed past his elbows, arms crossed lazily over his chest, he laughed at something an older knight was telling him. One of the practicing knights called out to him and Gareth nodded and bent to pick up his helmet and shield. Elena studied every detail of his appearance, memorizing it for future daydreams.

"Elena!" Catherine called shrilly. "Isn't that the handsome knight you spent a month with alone?"

Elena dragged her gaze from Gareth and turned to Catherine who, with her question, had gained the attention of the countess and the other three ladies. Though Catherine's face appeared blandly innocent, Elena saw straight through her ploy. "Indeed, that is Sir Gareth who rescued me from the brigands who attacked us and escorted me into the safekeeping and protection of his noble father."

"But how humiliating," Catherine persisted, "to have no privacy while traveling through the dark woods of Wales, spending every night with this man you hardly know."

Elena refused to let Catherine get the best of her. "Surely you are exaggerating, Catherine. You will have the good countess here fearing for her very life when near one of His Majesty's knights. Sir Gareth was a paragon of chivalry and virtue as he escorted me to safety. I not once encountered an unsavory moment in his company and I would trust my life and the life of my mother into Sir Gareth's hands without hesitation." Ha! Elena thought, you'll have to be in this court a few more years before you can think to make me look bad, Catherine.

"What adventure!" the Countess of Salisbury said, obviously intrigued by Elena's experience. Deciding to show Catherine exactly what she was up against, Elena turned on her favorite-lady-in-waiting charm and set out winning over the visiting noblewoman.

"Indeed it was. And as for the Welsh forests being dark and ugly places, I must tell you I have never seen such lush beauty. They are quite peaceful and I would vouch that they are less plagued by villains and robbers than are our own English woods. I am sure your ladyship would find them most pleasing."

"I would love to visit them," the Countess avowed. “But tell me, weren't you afraid? From what Lady Catherine has told me, I had feared for your virtue and soundness of mind after such an excursion."

Elena smiled smugly at the furious Catherine. "I've no doubt you did. But as usual, Lady Catherine worries herself far too much about my virtue. Why, I would not have felt more comfortable in the presence of a priest and a host of nuns. Not once did Sir Gareth initiate an unwanted advance. It would do Lady Catherine a world of good to go through such an adventure as I had so that she might realize not everyone is as wicked as she seems to fear they are."

The countess nodded and urged her horse closer to Elena's. "But tell me, what of sleeping in the forest at night? Weren't you frightened of goblins and evil spirits?"

Elena described the Welsh landscape to the intrigued countess, being careful not to vary from the story she and Gareth had so far told. She answered question after question, delighting in watching Catherine fume.

"My lady, perhaps you would like to see the flower gardens now?" Catherine finally interrupted.

"What's that?" the countess asked. "Oh yes, of course. I suppose we are making these poor lads nervous with our continued observance, aren't we?" The countess laughed and the other ladies followed suit, tittering behind their hands. Elena smiled, but her eyes were drawn to the practice field where Gareth was battling another man in armor with mock swords. Though his opponent stood a head taller than him, Gareth bested the man's strength and knocked him to the ground, holding the mock sword to his throat a second before leaning down to help his opponent up. When both men were standing, they took off their helmets, laughing and comparing battle techniques. Gareth slapped the man companionably on the shoulder before turning to leave the battlefield. Elena's breath caught as he glanced up and saw her watching. The grin left his face and he stared at her, his eyes burning hotly as his gaze scanned her face, her figure. The other ladies were leaving and Elena knew she must follow but she could not escape his gaze.

Finally Margaret turned her horse and rode back to Elena, "Elena! Are you coming? We're off to view the flower gardens."

"Yes, I'm coming," Elena murmured. She urged her horse to slowly follow the others, but kept her gaze locked onto Gareth. Twisting in the saddle, she watched as Gareth lifted his hand to his lips. She returned the action, wishing with all her heart she could stop and speak to him. But with what excuse? She could not risk stopping with Catherine and who knew how many others watching, hoping for a reason to cast suspicion on their relationship. Turning back around, she urged her horse to a faster pace and caught up with the group of women as Catherine was describing how instrumental she was in helping Richard have the most beautiful castle gardens. Elena rolled her eyes and allowed her mind to wander back to Gareth.