A Dishonorable Knight(119)
"Oh he don't mean it and I'm so fast that he usually never catches me. All the same, he never answers my questions."
The girl rattled on for another ten or fifteen minutes while she braided and twisted Elena's hair into three buns--one over each ear and another at her nape. When each section was secured with the new wooden hairpins, Mary handed her the comb. "There's a mirror downstairs you can look in, yer ladyship. I hope you like it."
Elena patted her hair, judging the style. "I'm sure I will. Thank you."
Mary grinned broadly. "Oh yer welcome, lady. Yer husband awaits ye out back when yer ready."
Elena left the small room and went downstairs. There was a smoky mirror hanging in the small dining area and she judged Mary's work to be quite acceptable. She smoothed her collar and shook out her full skirt before exiting the back door into the small stable area. Gareth was securing the last satchel on their packhorse when she approached him.
"Good morning Gareth."
Gareth whirled around and the appreciative look in his gaze warmed her cheeks. "Good morning. I thought we could stop at that pub and break our fast before continuing on to the castle."
Elena nodded, thinking that in a few hours, they would be separated--she to the quarters of the other ladies-in-waiting, he to join the other knights no doubt training for the imminent battle. Looking to the horse he had purchased in Aberstwyth, she thought of their entrance into the bailey of Nottingham castle. Though she had grown accustomed to riding in the saddle with Gareth, she knew they must not arrive pressed together on one horse. It would be difficult enough to convince everyone at court, especially those who envied and despised her, that she was not a fallen woman. Nodding to the horse, she said, "It would probably be best if I rode that horse today."
Gareth frowned and then, as if realizing what she meant, nodded and looked away. "Of course. I'm just used to--"
"I know," she interrupted, wishing she could explain that it would go harder for him if Richard discovered Gareth had taken the virtue of one of his attendants, especially one who’d been bestowed on a supporter; knowing that she could never explain the nuances of court life in a few words.
Gareth quickly rearranged the leather satchels so that Elena would be able to ride her horse. When he was finished, he helped her into her makeshift sidesaddle. Taking the reins of both horses, he led them out of the narrow alley and down the cobbled street to Henry Billingsley's pub. As he turned to help her down, he paused. With her hair intricately arranged, her back straight, and her new gown spread over her horse's back, she looked every inch the noblewoman. She looked nothing like the impudent lass he had made love to beneath the star-sprinkled velvet of the summer night's sky in Wales. Intimidated against his will, he carefully helped her down and stiffly escorted her into the pub.
Henry Billingsley remembered them from their previous meal and he bid them a hearty welcome, bringing mugs of ale and a plate of cold meats.
Elena ate the meat but avoided the ale. She had felt a definite change in Gareth's attitude toward her since she had bade him good morning and she was at a loss as to how to bring back the smiling, teasing Gareth of just a few days ago.
They ate in uncomfortable silence and left the pub as soon as the platter was cleared. Gareth lifted her into her saddle and paused, his hand on her knee. "My lady," he began.
"Yes Gareth?" she asked, hating that he had not called her by her name.
He looked up into her eyes. "I--you will be back in the comfort of His Majesty's court before dinner." Elena had the distinct impression that was not what Gareth had intended to say, but he quickly turned and mounted Isrid.
They made their way slowly out of the city, content to let the horses choose the easy pace. They exchanged comments about the weather and the scenery they passed as they made their way towards Nottingham castle, which loomed on the horizon.
Silently, Gareth chastised himself, hating that he hadn't taken advantage one of the hundreds of appropriate times to tell Elena that he loved her, to beg her to marry him. What was pride now, he thought? What matter if she had rejected his love from that first day? 'Twould have been better to suffer the temporary misery of wounded ego than to forever wonder if they might have made a life together if only he'd had the courage to speak.
His reverie ended as sentries on the parapets of the castle wall spotted them and called out for identification.
"Lady Elena de Vignon handmaiden to King Richard and Sir Gareth ap Morgan, knight of His Majesty's realm," Gareth yelled back to the sentries. "We are only now reunited with the king after becoming separated from His Majesty's entourage near Middleham." One of the soldiers left the parapet and within minutes, the great wooden castle gate was creaking open.