A Dishonorable Knight (11 page)

***

By nightfall, Gareth and Elena were
riding into the quiet bailey of a small stone and wood keep. Despite her
weariness, Elena noticed how immaculate everything seemed, even for a keep of
this size. Firewood was stacked in neat rows against one wall; the hard packed
dirt around the keep was swept clean of any clutter or debris; a trim hedge
encircled what looked to be a well kept garden and arbor; and the pale stone of
the keep gleamed warmly in the pearly light of dusk. A guard approached them
with a pine torch and cried, "Ho! Stand and be known!" Recognition
dawned in his voice as he shouted over his shoulder, "'Tis Sir Gareth!
He's home!" Within moments, the bailey was alive with activity. The door
to the keep swung open with a loud creak and several men poured out, among
them, Cynan and Bryant.

"Are we glad to see you!"
said Cynan. "Did you take the scenic route?" he joked.

Helping Elena down, Bryant asked,
"My lady, are you alright?"

"Yes, of course." Elena
suddenly felt flustered and conspicuous with all of the people crowding around
them.

"Gareth!" Gareth and Elena
both turned at the booming voice behind them. An older version of Gareth was
pushing his way through the small crowd. When he reached Gareth, he hugged him
tightly and muttered what Elena could only guess was a Welsh prayer.

Gareth and his father spoke
animatedly for several minutes before Gareth remembered Elena. Turning, he
switched back to English and said, "Father, this is the Lady Elena de
Vignon. I'm afraid she's our reluctant travel companion."

"Blessed St. Dafydd! You don't
mean to tell me you've abducted her. I'll grant you, she's a beauty,
but--"

Laughing at Elena's incredulous stare
and his father's mistaken conclusions, Gareth interrupted. "You need not
begin praying for my blackened soul, father. Lady Elena was traveling with King
Richard when his party was attacked. She was separated from the group and we
were going to escort her to an abbey or one of the border lords' keeps,
but..."

"But you've forgotten every
Welsh method of tracking and traveling you used to have to find them and here
you are, where you least expected to be, eh?"

"In truth, this was my final
destination, but I doubt the Lady Elena ever hoped to visit this far into
Wales."

Turning to Elena, Gareth's father said,
"Welcome, my lady, to Eyri Keep. I am Morgan
ap
Cyryth. I am honored to have such a fair lady in my humble home. Please come
inside so you can bathe, rest and eat."

This was more like it Elena thought.
She wondered why Gareth had no manners when his sire was so courtly, but she
was not about to waste another moment on the son while thoughts of a bath and
clean clothes were foremost on her mind. Placing her hand in Morgan's, she let
him lead her into the main hall, a large room with polished wooden walls and
freshly strewn rushes on the stone floors. The tables were grouped in a large U
shape and each had a pitcher and several loaves of bread placed in the center.
Large chairs, complete with embroidered cushions were gathered near the one
large window that was open to the beauty of the summer day. The entire hall
bespoke hospitality and comfort and Elena was immediately at ease. There was
more grace and warmth to this hall than in Middleham, or Nottingham, or even
her parents own manor.

"Enid!" Morgan yelled. A
small round woman hurried across the hall.

"You needn't shout
,
I'm not deaf. Although if you keep yelling as such, I may
soon be so," she nagged good-naturedly.

"Enid would you help dear Lady
Elena be as comfortable as possible in this drafty place? Lady Elena, this is
Enid, Cynan's most tolerant wife." Enid was shorter and older than Elena,
but energy and efficiency radiated from her. Her black hair was pulled back
from her head with a blue kerchief and fell in a lavish cascade down her back. Although
she was not beautiful in the conventional sense of the word—her face
being too round and her complexion too ruddy—her sparkling dark eyes and
smiling mouth, along with the extravagance of her long hair combined to make
her very attractive nonetheless.

Elena smiled at the woman and
followed her up the staircase. "Is this your first time in Wales?"
Enid asked.

"I used to visit Newport with my
parents when I was younger."

"Och, south Wales is like a
whole different country. I'm sure you'll like it much more up here! But tell
me, how did you come to be traveling with the boys?"

Elena hesitated. Morgan had spoken to
Enid familiarly, yet he had asked her to wait on Elena. Was she a servant or
wasn't she? She certainly wasn't going to gossip with a serving woman, and yet
she was Cynan's wife...The Welsh were a most disconcerting people, Elena
thought. Without quite knowing why, Elena found herself telling Enid the entire
story of their journey since leaving Middleham, even about Lady Elizabeth's
flight. When the story was finished, the women chatted about English and Welsh
beauty secrets as Elena bathed in a large wooden tub. Enid built a small fire
for Elena to sit in front of while she dried and combed her long hair. When she
was dressed in a clean kirtle, Enid made her sit while she wove her hair into
an intricate knot. As Enid rambled on about everything from how she came to
marry Cynan to Gareth's boyhood foibles, Elena wondered at the ease and
enjoyment she felt at Enid's company. She never spoke so casually to the women
in Richard's court--not even Catherine and Margaret. Remembering Marared,
Bryant's cousin, Elena wondered what was so different about these Welsh women
that made them so likable.

"That gown suits your coloring
just so," said Enid when they were done. Elena rubbed her hands over the
soft linen. It was a rich shade of cinnamon and as beautifully made as any she
owned.

"My thanks for lending it to
me," Elena said.

"Now, let's get you something to
eat before you faint."

***

Gareth was sitting next to his father
at the head table enjoying his second mug of honey mead when his eyes alighted
on Elena as she descended the steps into the main hall. As she paused to glance
around the crowded room, he was reminded of the first time he saw her, less
than a month before. She'd been wearing velvet, he remembered, and he had been
sure she wouldn't deign to speak to him. Taking a large gulp of mead, he
mumbled to himself, "And she didn't!" In fact, she was rude and self
absorbed. Well, she was still both of those, but perhaps tonight with no kings
or earls about, she'd be more inclined to dance with him than she had that
first night.

Enid guided Elena to a seat at the
end of the head table, next to Bryant. Calling to one of the serving girls, she
handed her Elena's empty plate and clapped her hands to make the girl hurry.
Before long, Elena was stuffing herself on fish, lamb, and rough bread spread
thick with butter and honey. As her hunger began to abate, Elena started
listening to the conversation of the men at the table. Her command of the Welsh
language was still a little rusty, but the words she did grasp told her that
they were speaking of King Richard and Henry Tudor. Not again, she silently
moaned. Although she and Gareth had argued heatedly over the politics of
Lancaster and York--Gareth was the first man who had ever condescended to
discuss politics with her-- she was heartily sick of the whole subject. Tonight
she wanted to relax and enjoy the comforts of a lord's manor, even a small one
such as this.

"Is something wrong, my
lady?" Bryant asked politely.

"What?"

"You sighed rather mournfully.
Is the food not to your liking?"

"It's quite good. Of course,
sticks and mud would have tasted good after that horse hide you fed me this
fortnight past," she said with a rueful smile. "Actually, I was
hoping for some lighter entertainment than another discussion of political
intrigue."

"Did I hear a call for lighter
entertainment?" Cynan broke in. "Gareth! Show some manners for once
and ask the Lady Elena to dance. She grows weary of this dull chatter."
Turning to Morgan, he asked, "May I call for the musicians, sir?"

"Indeed," Morgan replied
with an amused smile.

"Wake up you lazy beggars,"
he bellowed across the hall. "I've not seen my wife in months and I mean
to dance with her right now."

Those who played instruments
good-naturedly scurried to tune them while others broke down the trestle tables
to make room for dancing. Cynan stalked down the reluctant Enid and dragged her
to the newly created dance floor.

"A rousing tune, lads, with lots
of spins and turns!"

As the musicians began playing,
Gareth rose and approached Elena. "Would you care to dance, my lady?"
he asked politely.

Elena glanced up in surprise; she'd
been watching the dancers. Though she had seen that he had bathed and changed
when she entered the hall for dinner, she only now noticed how handsome he
looked. His face was freshly shaven and the ornery lock of hair temporarily
smoothed out of his face. His green wool jerkin flattered the width of his shoulders
and the narrowness of his waist. Elena did not allow herself to scrutinize too
closely his snug woolen hose that clung to his muscular legs. "I'm rather
tired. I think I'll sit this one out."

Gareth raised an eyebrow, his hand
still extended to accept hers. "This is no king's court, my lady. There
are no earls or earls to impress. In fact, I'm the only knight among the lot of
us. Wouldn't you just like to dance and have fun for once?"

Elena thought for less than a second.
"Yes, I believe I would."

Dancing had heretofore been a means
of flirting to Elena. She had used it to show off her grace and poise: to allow
her suitor his fill of gazing at her. Now as Gareth whirled her effortlessly
about the room, she laughed with delight, enjoying the quickening music, the
swirling skirts, her partner's firm grip on her hands and waist. When the dance
ended and Gareth made to escort her back to her chair, she refused, making him
dance again and again. When he finally begged off claiming his still-healing
leg was sore, Elena forgot all manners of modesty and asked Bryant to dance.
Bryant flushed beet red, but obligingly danced two more songs with her.

"Quite a spirited girl,
there," Morgan noted to Gareth. "Are you sure you didn't bring her
home for other reasons? There were, after all at least four abbeys between
Nottingham and here."

"Would that I had known of
them," Gareth said, his eyes never leaving Elena, who was with her fourth
dance partner. "She was not so biddable on the road as she is on the dance
floor."

Morgan glanced sideways at his son
who was still watching the young woman. "And were you as biddable as you
would have had her been?"

Gareth finally looked at his father.
"Perhaps not," he said with a grin. Turning back to the dancers, he
saw Elena making her way back to the table. Pouring her a goblet of wine, he
handed it to her as she sat down.

"My thanks," she said
breathlessly.

"I'm amazed you have energy
enough for so much dancing after our long journey."

"But this is so much more fun
than English court dancing! Bryant said they were country dances...."

Elena continued talking animatedly
about the dancing, but Gareth was distracted by the high color in her cheeks
and the tendrils of chestnut hair that had escaped her intricate coiffure. Her
warm brown eyes and creamy complexion gave off a golden glow in the fire and
torchlight. When Elena paused to take a draught of wine, the droplet left on
her lip, which she dabbed away with her finger, mesmerized him. As he leaned
closer to her, he caught the scent of cloves, his whole being caught in the web
of her beauty and spirit.

"Don't you agree?" she
asked, turning her wide eyes toward him.

"Of course," he murmured,
suddenly catching
himself
and shaking his head to
clear it of its delusions.

***

Elena sucked in a breath at the
slumberous look in Gareth's eyes. She was well practiced at knowing when a man
was staring at her and she knew Gareth had watched her dance the last quarter
hour. She had been absurdly pleased by that fact. But now as she stared back at
him, all thoughts of coquetry and flirtation, in which she was so well versed,
evaporated and all she could remember was the way his lips felt as they had
explored hers. When Gareth shook his head and leaned back, Elena felt as if
someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her head. Was he telling her that
he would not deign to kiss her again? Telling her that, no, he did not find her
as attractive as she seemed to find him? Angry with herself for romanticizing
this crude Welshman and furious with him for stirring up these emotions, Elena
stood and said coolly, "I believe I will retire now."

Elena avoided Gareth as much as
possible over the next few days and Elena passed much of her time with Cynan's
wife, Enid, discussing everything from mundane matters to her dreaded fiancee.
As she talked with Enid, she discovered that more and more of the Welsh she had
learned as a child came back to her.