A Dishonorable Knight (32 page)

Gareth laughed. "No point except
to populate the world."

"Well, besides that, of course.
I know I must have them some day, but I haven’t been around them. I was an only
child, you see, and children are not kept at court."

Gareth was silent for several seconds
as they walked down the narrow street. "Elena, you know we may have
created a child last night." She did not respond and continued looking in
the shop windows they passed on the widening street, trying to think of herself
with a child.
Gareth’s child.

"Elena?"

She stopped in front of a window in
which their figures were clearly reflected in the many thick panes of glass.
Elena stared at her reflection for a moment and then turned to face Gareth.

"I'm sure we didn't."

"How can you know.
"
Gareth's eyes widened with embarrassment and he
stammered, " I mean…”

Turning to Gareth, she saw the
concern on his face and she forced a smile. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worried. I--"
Gareth pushed his hair out of his eyes impatiently. "I just want you to
know that if you were...with child, I would marry you and, well, take care of
you both."

Elena felt her heart lurch. That he
would mention marriage not three hours after she envisioned
him
as her husband was startling. But she did not want a marriage based on obligation.
She wanted him to want to marry her. Or, at least, she thought she did. She was
still so confused over what exactly she did feel for this frustrating man.

Needing to not think for a while, she
dismissed his concern with a breezy, “Let’s not fill this beautiful day with
worries of any sort. I want to see all the sights this quaint city has to
offer." Taking his hand, she squeezed it and pulled him after her as she
turned a corner and headed for the center of town, acting as if she had firmly
put all thoughts of their lovemaking and subsequent conversation about it out
of her head.

***

For Gareth, he could not stop
thinking about the subject. Now that the subject had come up, there were so
many things he wanted to ask her: did she regret that it had happened? Did she
feel anything at all for him, because he was fairly certain now that he loved
her.
Gareth wished he had Cynan's brashness when it came to
blurting out whatever came to mind, but fear of what she might think of him for
asking those questions, and fear of what she might answer kept him quiet. Fear!
An emotion he had scorned to indulge in since he was in leading strings.

As if they truly were brother and
sister, he held her hand as she climbed up steps, answered her endless
questions about Aberstwyth, and bought her food when she was hungry.

They spent the entire day traipsing
through the shops of Aberstwyth, even talking about their childhood and
families, but Gareth never got over the feeling that they were avoiding the
most important topic and that was their feeling toward one another. Finally, as
their feet were sore and their legs weary from so much walking, they discovered
the
book seller
's shop, only to find it had closed for
the night.

"Is that not just my luck,"
Elena said dejectedly as they sat on a carved log strategically placed in front
of the shop.

"We have all of tomorrow free.
We'll come back and you can browse to your heart's content."

"Really? Don't you have business
to attend to? I mean, some sort of plan to work out or something."

Gareth valiantly ignored the twinge
of guilt at lying to Elena as he said, "I told you,
I've
decided not to join their cause, after all. I'm just returning to England, the
same as you."

"Well, I know, but don't you
have to convince everyone here that you won't betray their intents?"

"No," Gareth said, more
sharply than he had intended. "They know that whatever my feelings, I
won't betray their lives. With or without a few Welshmen, Henry and Richard
will come to battle. All I can do is return to my king and offer what service I
can."

They sat quietly for minutes, each
absorbed in his thoughts, Gareth suffering under the burden of deceit
;
deceiving Elena now and deceiving Richard's entire court
upon returning to England. With a humorless grimace, Gareth reflected on his
perpetual guilt. Just a few weeks ago, he was suffering at the thought of
abandoning his knightly vows to his king, despite his awareness that Richard
was not the sovereign he should be. Then when Elena nearly died trying to reach
them, he suffered overwhelming guilt that he had dragged her into their messy
plans. And don't forget, Gareth reminded himself, how guilty you felt when you
first turned Lord Stanley down for this distasteful task. Gareth sighed and
adjusted the chip on his shoulder. Elena thankfully distracted him from further
gruesome thoughts.

"Are you certain there will be a
war?"

Gareth shrugged. "There will at
least be a battle."

Elena nodded, watching Gareth
closely. "Will you fight in it?"

Her question made Gareth's stomach
clench. Of course he would fight in it, but how would he fight for his side? Go
along with Richard's troops and then start massacring them from behind? It may
be effective for a moment or two, but he would quickly be hacked to pieces. Not
that he was afraid of dying, simply that he did not relish the idea of rushing
to death's cold embrace without first kicking and screaming.

"Will you?" Elena's
strained voice finally registered on Gareth and he realized that she was
worried.
For him?
Did she not want him to die?"

"Undoubtedly. Does that bother
you?"

Elena frowned and hesitated before
answering. "Well of course it bothers me. I...I don't have any black
clothes to wear for your funeral and I won't dye my new houppeland just so I
can pay my respects."

"Hoope--land? What in the living
world is that?"

"Not hoopey, houppe. A
houppeland. That's what my new dress will be."

"What is it?" 

Elena laughed at his apparently
stupid question. "It's just a style--high waist, full skirt, big sleeves.
Started in Germany, I believe. Surely you've seen them on ladies at court. Men
too, actually."

Gareth looked at her in horror,
hoping this was not a style knights would be required to wear. "Men are
wearing houppelands?"

"Of course. Although not as
full, and sometimes quiet short."

Gareth longed for his childhood in
Wales where a rough tunic and comfortably worn leggings got him through year
after year. "Who invents these ridiculous fashions?" Gareth asked
peevishly, imagining himself trussed up in velvet, scarcely able to breath for
a tight collar, sitting through an interminably long court.

"I don't know. The loomsmen, I
suppose. It seems each new fashion requires more cloth than the last. There no
doubt will be a day when it will require fifteen lengths to make a decent gown."

Gareth thought of the money he had
spent on eight lengths of wool and fervently prayed that he never had
daughters.

Elena stood and stretched.
"Well, Sir Gareth, either we return to our temporary abode or you will be
forced to buy me one of those lamb sticks from the square."

Gareth stood also, realizing that the
sun was hovering just above the horizon. "Da said he was arranging for the
evening meal tonight, so we'd best be heading back."

"Your father cooks?" Elena
asked, incredulous.

"He cooks about as much as I
do."

Elena wrinkled her nose. "That
doesn't mean we're having that horrid dried beef, does it?"

Gareth laughed. "I think Da
meant he was arranging for someone to cook food for us. I'm sure he's sparing
us from dried beef since that's what all we'll be eating in a few days."

Elena moaned as Gareth took her hand
and led her up the street. "Isn't there anything else you can take on a
journey to eat besides dried beef? That stuff has no taste and is the
consistency of worn boot leather."

"So you've told me every time
we've eaten it. I'll see if Samuel has anything else we can take when we leave,
but don't get your hopes up. Whatever we take has to last a good week without
spoiling."

"Let's hurry home then,"
Elena said, picking up her pace. "I intend to gorge myself on edible food
just in case dried beef is all we have for the next week."

Gareth laughed and allowed her to
pull him along, content for the moment to concentrate solely on the feel of her
hand in his, her smile as she turned her head to urge him along, and her
wind-tousseled hair.

They reached Samuel's shop as the sun
was slipping into the ocean, just visible in the distance from his doorstep.
Gareth paused to watch it flatten and slowly sink, feeling the last rays warm
his face with a golden glow possible only at this time of night. As soon as the
uppermost edge had slipped away, the evening took on a cool blue light that was
somehow suddenly quiet and peaceful. Closing his eyes, Gareth inhaled deeply,
forgetting his burdens and absorbing all the peace of the moment. Elena was
going to miss real food for a week, but he was afraid he was going to miss this
feeling of utter peace for a great deal longer. He opened his eyes and looked
up to see the first star of the evening twinkle above him. "Please be a
good omen," he whispered before following Elena into the warm house.

Elena lay awake for several hours,
waiting for Gareth to join her. She had no doubt he would, after the previous
night and the whole day spent pleasurably in each other's company. To pass the
time until he came, Elena thought of her new dress, wishing she had her
mother's garnet necklace to wear with it once it was finished. When she had
exhausted every seam and hem on that topic, she went over all the sights she
and Gareth had seen today, noting their differences from the shops she had seen
in London, or one of the smaller towns and villages throughout England she had
visited as a lady-in-waiting. She wondered what kind of books the bookseller
would have and if Gareth possibly had enough money to purchase one for her.
Probably not, she thought, only slightly disappointed. What with fabric, and
hiring the seamstress, that alone was probably enough to wipe out a new
knight's means.

Elena yawned. Did knights earn any
money? She suspected very little. They, like ladies-in-waiting basically lived
at the expense of the king in exchange for their services. I wonder how Gareth
is expected to attract a wife if he has no means of supporting her, she
wondered as she snuggled deeper under the covers. Of course, there was that
cozy little keep, nestled in those harshly beautiful mountains. She wouldn't
mind living there…she refused to examine that rampant thought and instead
allowed her mind to replay the events of the previous night. Once she had
decided what she was going to do, she had suffered no apprehension, no qualms.
And in his embrace, she had found no discomfort or embarrassment. Gareth's warm
hands and drugging kisses had made her feel worshipped. She had never felt so
vitally alive as she had during their lovemaking. And Gareth had lost any
boyish awkwardness and had expertly wrung from her such
pleasures
as she had never anticipated. And was there a more deliciously comfortable way
to sleep than nestled in his arms, her back pressed to his chest, their legs
tangling, his arms cushioning her head and wrapping snugly around her waist?
She seriously doubted it. Turning on her side, Elena imagined Gareth was
pressed up against her. With a deep sigh, she felt her body relaxing
languorously, preparing itself for Gareth's attentions.

Elena awoke to bright sunlight
pouring in the small window. Disoriented she pushed herself up to her elbows
and looked around. She had only just been thinking that any moment Gareth would
be entering her room and now it was daylight. Looking at the candle, she saw
only a puddle of wax melted onto the small table. Oh dear. Not even in
Richard's well-furnished castles were candles a thing to be wasted. But the
candle occupied her mind for just a moment before the larger reality sank in.
Gareth had not joined her! Elena sat fully up and pounded the bed with her
fist. What in the world was he thinking? Had she not smiled meaningfully at him
last night as she left the dining table, bidding everyone good night? Had she
not left her door cracked invitingly so that the candlelight would guide him to
her? Had she said aught to lead him to believe that she had not found their
night of passion enjoyable? Certainly not!

"You dolt!" she cursed as
she threw back the covers and rapidly dressed. She would certainly give him a
piece of her mind, she thought as she ran a borrowed comb through her thick
hair. Elena paused in mid-stroke. How, exactly, would she go about bringing up
the subject? "Where were you last night, Gareth? I waited for you for
hours." No. "Why didn't we continue our lessons last night? Aren't I
an apt pupil?"
Absolutely not.
Well, she decided,
something will come to me. She’d never before been at a loss for words.
Marching down the narrow hall, she came into the main living area where Gareth,
his friends, Morgan, and Samuel were talking. The discussion stopped the
instant Elena entered the room and she had the distinct impression that she was
the topic.